The silence in the catacomb chamber was a suffocating weight, heavy with the smell of blood and shattered trust. We were at a stalemate. I held the proof of his court's betrayal, and he held the power to snap my neck in a heartbeat.
"You are correct," Rhyian said finally, the admission seeming to cost him dearly. "You don't trust me. And after tonight, I find I have questions about trusting you. But the fact remains, this is not the place for this discussion."
He didn't try to take the sack from me. Instead, he took a step back, a calculated move to de-escalate.
"Joric is on his way with a clean-up crew. We need to be gone before they arrive. They will not be pleased to learn of your... hidden talents."
He was right. Explaining my skills to the furious Captain of the Guard was not a conversation I wanted to have in a tomb surrounded by dead bodies. My survival depended on controlling the narrative, and right now, I was the only one who knew the full story.
"Fine," I said, my voice clipped. "We go back. We talk. But this," I clutched the burlap sack, "stays with me. It doesn't leave my sight."
A muscle feathered in his jaw, but he gave a curt nod.
"An acceptable, if irritating, condition. For now." He gestured toward the tunnel I had entered from. "Follow me. We will take a more direct route back."
I hesitated, my instincts screaming that turning my back on him was a fool's move. He seemed to read my mind.
"Walk beside me, Carys," he said, his voice laced with weary exasperation. "I have no intention of attacking you in a dark tunnel. If I wanted that sack, I would simply take it. I am attempting to show a modicum of respect for what you have accomplished tonight."
It was a strange, backhanded compliment, but it was enough. I fell into step beside him as we navigated the dark, silent tunnels. The journey back was a tense, suffocating parody of the walk to the cemetery. This time, we were equals in a way, both armed with dangerous knowledge about the other. The Aethel in me was a live wire, acutely aware of the immense, coiled power moving beside me. He was walking with a rigid control, but I could feel the fury and suspicion rolling off him in palpable waves.
He didn't ask me any more questions. The silence was his interrogation. He was letting me stew in it, waiting for me to make a mistake, to reveal something more. I remained silent, my face a mask of neutrality, my mind racing.
Silas. It kept coming back to Silas. The kind old man, the gentle scholar. Had it all been an act? The understanding in his eyes, the conspiratorial smile, the way he led me to the prophecy—was it all a performance designed to gain my trust? Or was there something more complex at play?
We emerged not in a service corridor, but directly into the private elevator of The Obsidian Gate. The doors opened into the command center where this disastrous mission had begun.
Joric was there, standing over the holographic map, his face a thundercloud. He looked up as we entered, his eyes immediately going to the blood spattered on my jacket and the grim look on Rhyian's face.
"Sovereign!" he barked, his eyes then moving to me. "What happened? The comms feed was chaotic. The camera went dark several times. We saw her engage, but the resolution was... unclear. Did the target escape?"
"The target did not escape, Captain," Rhyian said, his voice flat and cold. "Carys secured the package and eliminated all five hostiles."
Joric froze. The arrogant certainty on his face dissolved into pure, unadulterated disbelief. He stared at me, then back at Rhyian, as if expecting a punchline.
"Eliminated? All five? That's impossible. She's a human."
"It seems we have all been operating under some... misconceptions... about Carys's capabilities," Rhyian said, his silver eyes flicking to me, laden with meaning.
I met his gaze, my expression unyielding. I walked past both of them and placed the burlap sack on the central holographic table.
"The package contained this," I said, pulling out the carved wooden box and the severed hand with Silas's ring.
Joric stared at the gruesome display, his face paling slightly.
"Gods..." he breathed. "Is that...?"
"It is the signet of House Varen," Rhyian confirmed, his voice like chipping stone. "The traitor is Silas."
The revelation hit Joric like a physical blow. He looked from the ring to Rhyian, his military mind struggling to process the sheer magnitude of the betrayal.
"Silas? But he's... he's been with your family for a millennium. He taught you."
"And it seems he has taught us all one final lesson in deception," Rhyian said grimly. He looked at me. "She handled your 'suicide mission,' Captain. She succeeded where your intelligence failed. She identified the traitor your security protocols missed. Do you have anything to say to her?"
Joric's face was a mixture of humiliation, fury, and grudging disbelief. He looked at me, at the blood on my clothes, at the confidence in my stance that hadn't been there a few hours ago. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He couldn't bring himself to apologize or admit he was wrong.
"She got lucky," he finally bit out, the words sounding weak even to his own ears.
I almost smiled.
"Four times," I said softly. "And I knocked the fifth one out. Your Sovereign was the one who lacked the self-control to keep him alive for questioning."
Joric's eyes widened. He shot a shocked look at Rhyian, who didn't even deign to respond to my barb. The tension in the room was so thick I could taste it. I had not only proven Joric wrong, I had openly challenged the Sovereign's actions in front of him. I was rewriting the rules of this tower with every breath I took.
"Joric," Rhyian commanded, his voice pulling the Captain's attention back. "Seal the library. No one enters or leaves. Place Silas under house arrest in his quarters. Do not engage him directly. Just seal the room. I will deal with him myself. Go. Now."
With a final, conflicted glare at me, Joric spun on his heel and marched out of the room, his authority in tatters.
Once again, Rhyian and I were alone.
"You enjoyed that," he stated, his voice devoid of emotion.
"I enjoyed surviving," I corrected. "His humiliation was just a bonus." I picked up the burlap sack. "I'm taking this back to my suite. And then you and I are going to have a real conversation. Not as Sovereign and 'guest.' But as two people who just learned they can't trust anyone but each other."
I started for the elevator, but his voice stopped me.
"One more question, Carys," he said. I turned. He was holding up the small, flesh-colored earpiece. "The distress signal. A double-tap. Why didn't you use it?"
I looked him straight in the eye, letting all the defiance, all the fury, and all the pride of the last seven years show on my face.
"Because I was never in distress."