The Queen sat regal in her chamber as the door slid open announcing captain Delan.
She did not look up."Is it still circulating?" she asked."The prophecy?" Delan stood with his hands behind his back. "Yes, Majesty. Chalk on walls. Whispers in market lines. A boy or two to carry it farther."
"And the crime scene?" She was careful not to mention names."Dressed," he said. "We lifted the panel before the watch arrived. Ash was salted, logs exchanged, hinges replaced. Nothing that leads back to us."
Her pen paused over a clean sheet. "You're certain?"
"As certain as a man can be," Delan said. "If someone took a page, they'll think it's a prize, without knowing it would lead to a dead end."
The Queen set the pen on her hand aside. "This 'Wolf' is the only person the streets believe could challenge me."
"A ghost," Delan said. "If he ever lived, he is long dead. We encouraged that truth, remember?"
"After the present wolf, how many of them referred to, by that title still remain?"
"Just One your Majesty and he is of no consequence as the others before him."
"You'll leave that for me to decide the Queen countered sternly, catching the captain off guard."
"Yes your majesty." he quickly responded afraid of incurring her displeasure.
She turned a ring around her finger. "Encouraged truths tend to walk on glass. They crack in no time." Then her face went cold.
"The fixer had to intervene and derail my plans, both of their days are numbered."
Delan gave a small bow. "Then we watch for seven days. We let the rumor breathe. At noon on the seventh, scaffolds will be ready.
The decree naming him will have done its work. Anyone who thinks himself heir will show his teeth."
"And if they don't?"
"Then the city will have spent its anger on a story. We go back to counting grain."She didn't smile.
"The crime scene and the fixer?"
"Planted. Her forged mark in Harrow's ledger is glaring. We made sure that page was difficult to find. The wolf would have seen it already, if they've gone there, I have men on watch."
The Queen lifted a thin packet from her desk, a rubbing of a seal: sharp V, clean as a cut. She studied it the way a tailor studies a pattern."After the wolf is hanged, her residence would be searched for the concealed evidence and the rest would be history."Delan blinked.
"Majesty"Delan inclined his head. "And the Caliphrast watch?""Leave it," she said. "Let the house breathe like nothing happened.
The Wolf and the fixer will test its doors. They seek to exonerate themselves within seven days"She picked up her pen again. "One more thing."
"Majesty?"
"If the boy carrying chalk goes missing," she said softly, "The people will take that as a sign. I prefer signs I write myself. Keep him… unharassed."
"As you wish."Delan turned for the door.
"Delan," the Queen called.
He stopped.
"If you are wrong and it turns out to be the actual Wolf she said, God save your soul."
He bowed and left her to the rain and the pen and the seven days she had set counting.
********
Back at Lyra's estate.
Kaelen and Lyra reached her room without looking like they'd ran. Lyra shut the door. "Sit," she said."I'm fine," Kaelan said."You're bleeding on my floor. Sit."
He sat on the storage chest by the window. Big man, small room. She set the lantern low and took out spirits, clean cloth, a small needle already threaded."Strange, you have these in your possession" he observed.
"People are always breaking.""You fix them?"
"When I can."She rinsed his cut.
He didn't hiss, but his jaw did tighten hard. She held his arm steady and cleaned around the edge."Deep?" he asked."Angry," she said. "Hold still."He held. She stitched. Three neat bites. Knot tight.
Then a clean wrap. Close work made them close. She could feel his heat and he could count her breaths.
"Tell me again," he said. "Straight through."
"Harrow's desk stripped. Hearth too clean. Two burns. The panel. The ledger." He waited to hear "A page with my seal. Not my hand." but it never came.
The mistrust that was planted was taking roots. He nodded. "The boy."" Said the murders are a cover. Said the Wolf is not a monster. Gave us a coin. Old glassworks at moonset. Only us.""Sounds about right, when do you want us to go," he said."Let's fix you first."
"I don't kneel to prophecies, you'll do well to remember that." he repeated again to her.
"Then don't. Just walk next to me."
He watched her fingers test the wrap. "Neat work.""It'll scar.""Good addition to my collections." he said grinning.A bell tolled in the distance.
Then again. Paper boys would be out soon, pasting orders to walls."Seven days," she said. "By noon."
"We won't have seven, if we're stupid tomorrow and don't make headways," he said."Then we won't be."
He looked at her for a moment, then nodded. "We go. Early. We leave a path out. Assume every door belongs to someone else.""Agreed."
He caught her wrist as she reached for the cloth. "About the page."Her pulse ticked under his fingers. "What page?""The one you tucked against your skin."
She met his eyes. Of course he'd seen. "If I showed it to you there, it would be a different talk.""Shorter," he said, mouth tipping. He let her go. "Keep it. It's safer with you."
"You trust me?""You don't make it easy," he said. "I only trust you to hate being framed."She almost smiled.
"You do know me."He stood. The room felt smaller. "I'll sleep down the hall.""You'll sleep in my bed," she said. "I need to watch for fever.""I don't get fevers."
"You also said you weren't bleeding." She pointed at the chair by the hearth. "Shirt."He raised his brows."For more bandage."He worked the buttons free.
The sleeve stuck to dried blood, he eased it off. Light caught old scars. Thin silver lines. Rougher marks."What did those teach you?" she asked before she could stop herself.
"That people who promise clean fights lie," he said.
"And that I could concentrate and spar better when I'm not thinking about your mouth."Her breath hitched.
He watched it."Do we say it?" he asked, softer. "Or keep pretending we can't feel it?"
"We don't have the time for this nonsense," she said, turning away.
A desperate attempt to hide the color coming up her cheeks.
"We have all night."
"That's a mistake." Her voice shook and she hated it.
"Tomorrow, we do what must be done to save our heads." she made to get up, thinking she had the final say, closed doors.
He stepped closer to her and held back her wrist from putting a distance between them. " Maybe we burn it down and get clean."
"You're been reckless." she said, as he tried to cup her face with one hand.
"And you?"
"I want both of us alive at moonset."
Something in his face eased. He set the lantern lower. The light warmed. The world was just them and the chair and the quiet.
"Lyra," he said.
"Kaelan." She responded as he bent his head lower, slow enough for her to stop him.
She didn't. His mouth met hers, careful at first, then sure. He tasted like spirits and rain. She felt her hands lift of their own accord and press to his back. He drew her closer with his good arm, and for a breath she let herself fall into it.
The noise in her head went quiet. The ground felt simple."No." She protested, still dizzy from the kiss, she knew she needed but most deny.
As she broke the kiss, she took one step back. Then another. She reached for the bandage like she needed to fix something that wasn't broken.
"You need to rest," she said, eyes on his shoulder, not his face.
"If that tears, I'll have to stitch it again."
"Lyra." He called softly.
"We leave early. We bring ink. We leave the copies. We don't linger if it smells wrong."
Words and more words not feelings. She kept talking because she was avoiding the silence that would force her to look at him.
"Lyra," he said again, softer. She kept her gaze on the table.
"Chair," she said pointing at it and added "Please."
The chair was comfortable enough for him to sleep and be monitored. She was no longer confident the both of them could survive the fires that would engulf them, if they dared spend the night in her bed together.
He obeyed. The chair scraped. He sat where he could watch the door and the window both. She blew the lantern down to a small orange eye.
"Tomorrow," she said, still not looking at him. "We go together.""Together," he said.She turned away, cursing herself in her head.
Weak, stupid, and lay down with her back to the room so he wouldn't see her face.
Behind her, the chair creaked once. Then it was quiet.She stared at the dark until the dark stared back, mouth still warm, heart too loud, and wished she were the sort of woman who didn't stop. She wasn't a regular woman after all, she was the sort who wanted them both alive. So she stopped.