Page 52 of Fire and Silk

“She needs to renounce her legacy herself. Until she does, she’s a beacon. A claim waiting to be filed. You can’t protect her from what she doesn’t understand.”

“She will,” he said, voice hard.

I studied him for a moment—chest heaving slightly, pulse pounding at his temple, the room’s low light painting every shadow deeper on his face.

“That’s where you’re mistaken,” I said.

“You don’t know her!” he yelled.

He was still breathing hard, nostrils flaring slightly with each exhale. There was heat behind his eyes, the kind that hadn't burned out yet. It clung to him, smoldering just beneath the surface. He looked ready to tear the room apart, but the weight of my calm was starting to work on him. He was listening. And listening men could be led.

I lifted a hand to my chest, brushed a speck of lint from the edge of my lapel, and let the silence stretch.

Then I said, “Let’s make a deal.”

His eyes narrowed.

“If you can convince her to renounce her legacy,” I continued, voice smooth as silk over steel, “I’ll let you leave this place alive.”

The words hung between us like mist.

“I’ll even forget about the punch,” I added, rolling my shoulder with a slight wince. “We’ll call it... an unfortunate turn of events.”

Mico stared at me, jaw clenched, every muscle in his body drawn tight like wire under strain.

“You’re playing a losing bet,” he said. “But let me humor you. What do you get if I lose?”

I tilted my head and made a show of thinking. Eyes to the ceiling. Lips pursed slightly. Then I shrugged with a faint, deliberate pout.

“I’ll leave it to her to decide.”

He blinked. “What?”

I stepped closer. Just one measured pace. Enough to cut the space between us in half. The corner of my mouth curved upward—slow, creeping, unrepentant.

“When she chooses her inheritance,” I said, gaze steady, “and you lose... she’ll decide how best to punish you for wagering her.”

His breath caught.

We stood like that, locked.

He held the stare with everything he had, his chest rising and falling with the weight of held-back words. Rage trembled in his hands, but he didn’t move. I saw the calculations shifting behind his eyes, the panic underneath the defiance.

He hated me for enjoying this.

Good.

I waited.

And when he finally spoke, the words came slow, pushed between clenched teeth like a warning fired through gritted steel.

“I want to see her. Now.”

My grin widened.

“Of course.” I gestured to the door, voice light with triumph. “She’s just down the hall.”

Chapter Nine - Lira