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Her brother never got tired of living. Even the slow parts, he said, he didn’t want to miss a second.

He was still sharp, with more than enough laurels from all his many adventures to rest on.

Still, his general disdain for common niceties and people in general had, over the years, shifted the public’s perception of him as merely eccentric to outright senile.

“People are worried that you haven’t taken a rest,” she said.

“Just because Lord Ainsley decided to whisper in a few of his fellow bootlickers’ ears—”

“It’s not just Lord Ainsley. He was merely preying upon fears that already existed.

The islanders know you. They trust you, but the nobility—all they have are stories and conjecture and pre-established bias.

I told you there would be consequences to completely removing yourself from the rest of the world. ”

Ivain didn’t answer right away. He stared into his tea, as if expecting it to hold an argument strong enough to refute hers. It didn’t. “I’m not sure what exactly you want me to do about that right now.”

“For one, you could act your age.”

He eyed her but sat up. He put on a better front for the children. When they were alone, the walls came down, and she could barely tell the difference between him and the boy she used to know with yellow hair.

“And I’m not saying you need to do anything except to have a bit more care for the things you do and say. You have a brilliant mind. If you would just get out of your own way, others would see that.”

“Now you’re trying to butter me up.”

Yes, because appealing to his ego was about the only thing that still worked on the old coot—that or getting Taly to ask him. Ivain always caved in the face of those big, gray eyes.

He reached to refill his tea. “Kalahad was being possessed by Aneirin last night,” Sarina said, and his hand slipped. He cursed as hot tea splashed his hand. “Possession magic. We’ve got ourselves a jumper.”

It was a shadow mage’s spell. Aether was the underlying substance of all things, so some advanced practitioners were capable of shaping and shifting their consciousness from one location to another.

Ivain wiped at his sleeve. “You did that on purpose,” he grumbled.

Sarina didn’t bother arguing. “He had Taly cornered last night.” Her brother tensed. “Nothing happened, thankfully. Though I daresay, we have our answer on whether he was complicit in sending Vaughn. We need to decide what we’re going to do with this information.”

It was the one victory of the evening. And considering the precarious position they now found themselves in—that of trying to accuse a man deemed innocent in that all-important court of public opinion—they needed a sound strategy before barging in.

Ivain’s fingers tapped nervously against the table. “What are you doing right now?” she asked. “What’s with that face?”

Indeed, she knew that face. That grim, wary expression accompanied by a slight tensing in his shoulders as his eyes flicked to the nearest fire douser.

“Spill it.”

Her brother sighed. “I’m sorry to throw a wrench in all your grand machinations, of which I’m sure you already have a few.”

“A couple,” she said. “Twelve.”

“I have news.”

Sarina’s stomach dropped. “Oh no…” How had that wily bastard managed to outsmart her now?

Had he saved a baby from a burning building?

Or done something equally precious … It’s what she would’ve done.

Build off the momentum of the evening. One rumor would spark another, and before you knew it the people would be proclaiming him a saint.

“Kalahad fell ill early this morning,” Ivain said. “I received word first thing.”

Sarina blinked. It took a moment for the words to register. “ Ill ,” she finally managed. “What do you mean ill ?”

“He fell into a dead faint as the last of his guests were leaving. Then he started spasming and choking up blood.”

“So, he was poisoned.”

“No. His private physician ruled that out.”

“But that…” Sarina snatched the letter from his hand. Maybe her brother wasn’t as sharp as she gave him credit for. “That doesn’t make any sense. Highborn don’t fall ill .”

“Not often, I’ll agree. But he’s also not native to the island, and… I don’t know. I always feel a little funny during Solnar. So do you. Dawn Court pansy probably just has a weak constitution.”

“You don’t really believe that.”

“No. Maybe. Either way, we won’t know anything until he wakes up. His physician put him in a healer’s sleep. It’s unclear when he’ll come out of it.”

“Well, isn’t that convenient ,” Sarina murmured as her eyes scanned. “Fever… delirium… poison ruled out…” She snarled softly. “Damn. That bastard really did think of everything.”

Whether he was faking or not, if he was in a coma, he couldn’t be questioned. He was a dead end with a sparkling reputation, the legend of which was only growing by the second. And the longer he remained on his sick bed, the more his allies would rally around him.

“We know he’s working with the enemy. What if they try to retrieve him?” she asked.

“I have the house under guard.”

“No… no, that’s not good enough. Before the Schism, that house had its own private entrance to the underground airtram tunnels. I’m uncertain if it was cleared during the renovation. You need to pull him out.”

“The only long-term medical care facility we have right now is the healing park.”

That… wasn’t bad, actually. “A tent in a field would be much easier to guard than a house.”

Ivain’s expression turned thoughtful as the idea took root. “And we could monitor any communication going in and out…” He sighed and shook his head. “There’s no way this doesn’t turn into a political incident. His people won’t take kindly to what’s essentially an arrest.”

Sarina took a slow sip of tea, the corner of her mouth lifting upward. “You just leave that to me.”

“Where are they taking him?” Taly asked two days later, standing on the street outside the townhouse with Sarina and Skye and watching as, at the bottom of the hill, people crowded around Kalahad’s front gate.

“Somewhere I’m sure he’ll be very comfortable,” Sarina said, arms folded neatly. Smug satisfaction flickered in her eyes as she observed the chaos below.

Kalahad’s grand townhouse was a hive of commotion. His household was causing quite the scene, shouting and gesturing in a frantic attempt to prevent his removal.

Sarina tsked her tongue. “Can you believe his healer faked his credentials? It’s a good thing we stepped in when we did. Poor dear…”

Kalahad’s unconscious form was being carried out on a stretcher, his face pale, as if he were already halfway to the grave.

“Was the healer actually a fake?” Skye asked.

Sarina’s smile sharpened. “I wouldn’t say fake . But he does have a reputation of malpractice and patient abuse, so I doubt anyone will mourn the loss.”

The wind shifted, tugging at their cloaks. A figure approached, making his way up the hill—a courier, and he was heading straight for them.

He stopped in front of Taly. “This is for the human.”

The box was large, ornate, and made of deep mahogany inlaid with silver filigree. Taly reached for it, frowning. “Uh, thanks? Who is it—”

But the courier had already turned, starting his journey back down the hill.

She shook the box. Something inside jangled.

She lifted the lid—and her breath stalled. Nestled on a bed of red velvet was a necklace of intricately woven gold threads, its pendant a fiery ruby that blazed with its own inner light.

It must’ve been worth a fortune. Not just in gold, but in history. This was the necklace High Queen Lysara had worn at her coronation. Taly remembered reading it on the little plaque in the display.

Skye let out a low whistle. “I think I’m going to have to step up my game.”

Taly barely heard him. There was a note. Her fingers trembled as she flicked the seal off and snapped the paper open.

My dear,

I noticed you admiring this the other night. So, I thought I’d send it ahead—just a little something to keep you company.

Distance changes nothing. I see you still.

Yours truly, always watching…

Taly stared at the words—stared and stared, as if the meaning might shift on the fourth or fifth read.

Sarina saw her face, the blood draining. “What’s wrong, Taly? Who sent it?”