Page 46

M y heartbeat stuttered in my chest as I stared at Gavriel. In the dying firelight, I could see the silver glint of his bracer beneath his sleeve—the one that concealed the Seal of Veritas.

"You're supposed to be in custody," I said, hating the tremor in my voice.

Gavriel's smile was indulgent. "Come now, Isolde. You know better than that. Men like me don't stay in cells."

I remained frozen on the stairs, calculating. If I shouted, would Gruha hear me? Were the others even in the house? And Ellie—my baby was sleeping just down the hall, unprotected.

With a cold clarity, I realized I couldn't risk it. Not when Gavriel's hand rested so casually on Dora's shoulder, not when his eyes held that dangerous light.

"What did you do to her?" I asked, nodding toward Dora's rigid form.

"Nothing permanent." He stroked Dora's hair like she was a doll. "As you figured out, the Seal allows for temporary... adjustments to perception. She'll remember opening the door to check something outside. Nothing more."

I took another step down, careful to keep my movements slow, unthreatening. "Let her go. This is between us."

"Of course it is." His voice was reasonable and soothing—the tone he'd always used when explaining why I was wrong and why I should trust his judgment. "But I needed a way inside, and your little friend was kind enough to assist."

Gavriel's fingers flexed slightly on Dora's shoulder. My stomach twisted.

"Now," he continued pleasantly, "why don't you come down here? We have much to discuss."

I knew what would happen next, even if I hadn’t understood it before—the insidious warmth of the Seal's magic slipping beneath my thoughts, making his words sound reasonable. Making me doubt myself. I braced for it, hands tightening on the banister.

But nothing came.

No pull. No haze. Just my own breath in my lungs and the steady pounding of my heart. I took another cautious step, testing for the shift I remembered so well—the soft erosion of will. Still nothing.

I didn’t understand. Something had changed. Or something was in the way. Whatever the reason, I was still myself. And that meant I still had a chance.

I made a split-second decision. If he realized it wasn’t working, he might resort to violence. Might hurt Dora or go upstairs searching for Ellie. I couldn't let that happen.

So I pretended.

I let my shoulders slump slightly. Let my expression go blank, like Dora's. I took the remaining stairs slowly, moving as if in a dream.

"That's it," Gavriel murmured as if to a skittish animal. "Come to me, my love."

I wanted to vomit at the endearment, but I kept my face still. Docile. Defeated. I crossed the room until I stood before him, close enough to smell the spiced cologne he always wore. Close enough to kill him if I had the means.

"You've been so confused," he said, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "But that's over now. We're going home."

My skin crawled at his touch, but I didn't flinch. "Yes," I said, voice flat. "Home."

His smile widened, revealing perfect teeth. "Good. Now, where's our child? Go fetch her, and we'll be on our way."

Terror surged through me, but I kept my face still. I couldn't let him have Ellie. Couldn't let him twist her the way he'd tried to twist me.

"She's upstairs," I said. "I'll get her."

A floorboard creaked overhead, followed by the shuffle of footsteps. Someone was awake upstairs, moving around. Gruha, maybe, or Leilan.

Gavriel's face hardened. He released Dora, who swayed slightly but remained upright, still caught in whatever spell he'd cast.

"No matter," he said, voice clipped. "We don't have time for this. Come." He seized my wrist, grip painfully tight. "We'll have to leave without her."

Relief washed through me, so intense I nearly sagged with it. Ellie would be safe. Whatever happened next, my daughter would remain here, protected by these women who had become my family.

"But—" I began, playing my part.

"We'll have another," Gavriel cut in, voice cold. "A proper heir this time. One raised correctly, from the beginning."

The casualness with which he dismissed Ellie—as if our child was replaceable, a flawed draft to be discarded—sent rage coursing through me. But I buried it deep, kept my face blank. I needed him to believe I was under his control. Needed to get him away from this house, from my baby.

"Yes," I echoed, the word ash on my tongue. "Another."

He nodded, satisfied, and tugged me toward the door. "Come. The carriage is waiting."

I let him lead me past Dora's frozen form into the cool night air. As we stepped onto the porch, I heard the Seal pulse again. Gavriel glanced back at Dora.

"Close the door," he commanded. "Lock it. Return to your bed. You saw nothing tonight."

Dora nodded mechanically. The last I saw of her was her small silhouette framed in the doorway as she slowly closed it, cutting off the faint firelight.

Then I was alone with Gavriel in the dark street, his fingers digging into my wrist.

"Walk naturally," he instructed, releasing my arm to place his hand at the small of my back. "We don't want to attract attention."

I nodded, falling into step beside him. We looked like any couple taking a late-night stroll—his posture relaxed, his manner easy. Only I knew the threat that hummed between us, the violence that lay just beneath his polished veneer.

We walked in silence down Tinderpost's narrow street, then turned onto Market Way. The shops were closed at this hour, windows dark. Few lanterns burned this late, and those that did cast only feeble pools of light on the cobblestones.

I cataloged each intersection we passed, each landmark. The baker's with its peaked roof. The guardhouse at the corner, windows glowing faintly—someone on night duty, perhaps Thok. The fountain in the small square, its bubbling water the only sound besides our footsteps.

"You'll feel better once we've left this place," Gavriel said conversationally, as if reading my thoughts.

"It's been toxifying you, filling your head with all these progressive ideas.

" He spit the word like it was dirty. "You were never meant for a place like this. You're too delicate, too refined."

I said nothing, keeping my gaze fixed ahead. We were heading east, toward the Council district. Away from the river. Away from my cottage. Away from Uldrek.

Uldrek. Did he know I was gone? Would he come looking? Or would he think I'd simply left him after our fight, stealing away in the night without a backward glance?

"I was surprised when you testified against me," Gavriel continued, his tone light despite the steel beneath it. "After everything we shared? After I gave you my name, my protection? But I understand now—you were confused. Manipulated."

His words slid over me like oil, leaving a residue of disgust. Once, they would have found purchase. Once, I would have questioned myself, wondered if he was right. But not anymore.

"It doesn't matter now," he went on. "We'll put all this unpleasantness behind us. I have contacts in Riverbend who'll help us start fresh. A new position. A new home. A new family." His voice lingered on the last word, a reminder of the threat to Ellie I'd narrowly avoided.

We turned onto Council Street, wider and better lit.

The grand buildings of Everwood's civic center loomed ahead, their stone facades pale in the moonlight.

At the far end of the street, I could make out an elegant and dark carriage with a matched pair of bay horses stamping impatiently at the cobbles.

Just like the one he'd brought me to Elarion in, all those years ago. My wedding carriage, with its velvet seats and silver lanterns. My stomach twisted.

"There we are," Gavriel said, nodding toward it. "Your chariot awaits, my dear."

For a wild moment, I considered running. But where would I go? If I fled back to Tinderpost, I'd lead him straight to Ellie. If I ran toward the Guard House, would anyone even believe me? Gavriel was persuasive, controlled—and he had the Seal.

No. The safest path was forward. Away from everyone I loved, if that's what it took to protect them.

We reached the carriage. A driver sat on the bench, face shadowed beneath his hat. He didn't look at us as Gavriel opened the door and gestured for me to enter.

"After you," he said, with that courteous smile that had once made me feel special. Now, it just made my skin crawl.

I climbed inside, my movements stiff despite my attempts to appear compliant. The interior was exactly as I remembered—dark blue velvet seats, silver trim, the faint scent of beeswax candles in small glass sconces.

Gavriel followed, settling across from me. The door closed with a soft thud, and a moment later, the carriage lurched forward.

We were alone now, enclosed in this small, elegant prison. His eyes gleamed in the dimness, watching me.

"You're very quiet," he observed. "Not like you at all. The old Isolde would have a thousand questions."

I kept my face blank, hoping he'd think it was the Seal's influence. "Where are we going?" I asked.

"Riverbend, to start," he replied easily. "Then perhaps Elarion, once things settle down. Once people forget this... unfortunate episode."

I nodded slowly. "What about the Council? They had you in custody."

His smile turned sharp, predatory. "They never meant to keep me. Not really. Even the Council is vulnerable to truth when spoken with power." He tapped the silver bracer on his wrist. "The Seal helps them see reason."

So the Council had released him. Or rather, he'd used the Seal to compel them. How many others had he manipulated on his way out of Everwood? How many minds had he twisted?

"The Seal," I echoed, allowing a hint of curiosity into my voice. Perhaps he'd reveal more if he thought I was still under its influence. "They took it from you."

"They tried." His smile widened. "But it was always mine. It just needed reminding."