Kael woke to find Lyra gone from his arms and the smell of something burning.
He stumbled into the kitchen to find her attempting to cook eggs, looking deeply uncomfortable.
"Don't say anything," she warned, not turning around.
"Wasn't going to."
"You're thinking it loudly."
Kael sat at the table, watching her struggle with the pan. "Do you remember last night?"
Lyra's back stiffened. "Define 'remember.'"
"You said some things."
"Drunk things. Things that don't count." She finally looked at him, her expression guarded. "Can we not make this weird?"
"Little late for that."
"Kael—"
"You almost told me you loved me."
The words hung in the air between them. Lyra's face flushed, but she didn't look away.
"Almost doesn't count," she said finally.
"Doesn't it?"
"Not in this conversation." She turned back to the eggs, which were definitely burning now. "Besides, being drunk doesn't make things true. It just makes you say stupid things."
"Was it stupid?"
Lyra was quiet for a long moment. Then she turned off the stove, abandoning the ruined eggs, and sat across from him.
"No," she admitted. "It wasn't stupid. It was true. I just... wasn't planning to say it while drunk and probably covered in wine stains."
"So you do—"
"Love you? Yeah." She met his eyes. "I do. I'm terrified of it, and it's incredibly inconvenient, but there it is. I love you, Kael Voss. You and your cursed sword and your death wish and all of it."
Kael felt something in his chest loosen, something he hadn't known was tight. "I love you too."
Lyra blinked. "Just like that? No dramatic speech?"
"Do you want a dramatic speech?"
"No, I just... I thought you'd make me work for it more."
"You've been working for it since the day we met," Kael pointed out. "Saving my life, helping me fight Julian, keeping me human when the sword wants me to be a monster. If that's not earning it, I don't know what is."
A smile tugged at Lyra's lips. "You're being romantic. It's weird."
"Should I stop?"
"Absolutely not." She stood, moved around the table, and kissed him. It was soft, sweet, and tasted like wine from the night before. "But we're still not telling Ethan. He'll be insufferable."
"Too late," Ethan called from his room. "I heard everything. You two are disgusting, and I love it."
Lyra closed her eyes. "Great. Just great."
Despite everything—the danger, the uncertainty, the impossibility of their situation—Kael laughed. Real laughter, coming from somewhere deep and genuine.
Lyra started laughing too, and then Ethan joined in, and for a few minutes the cramped apartment above the baker's shop was filled with the sound of it.
When they finally composed themselves, Lyra made tea—something she was significantly better at than cooking eggs—and they sat together planning their next move.
"Julian's gone to ground," Lyra said. "But he can't hide forever. He'll need resources, allies, money. When he reaches out to any of his old contacts, we'll hear about it."
"And then?" Kael asked.
"Then we finish this. Once and for all."
A knock at the door made them all freeze.
Lyra's knives were in her hands instantly. Kael stood, Soulrender ready. Ethan moved toward the back exit.
"Who is it?" Lyra called.
"Message for Lyra Thorne," an unfamiliar voice replied. "From the Merchant's Guild."
Lyra and Kael exchanged glances. The Merchant's Guild was Julian's domain.
"Slide it under the door," Lyra said.
A sealed envelope appeared under the door. Footsteps retreated.
Lyra waited a full minute before approaching. She picked up the envelope carefully, checking for traps, then broke the seal.
Inside was a single card bearing an emblem Kael didn't recognize—a silver dagger crossed with a quill.
"What is it?" Ethan asked.
"It's an invitation," Lyra said slowly. "To a private auction. Exclusive, high-value items. Attendees by invitation only."
"Why would the Merchant's Guild invite you?"
"They wouldn't. This isn't from the Guild." She turned the card over. "This is from House Roe."
Kael frowned. "House Roe? The noble family?"
"One of the oldest in the capital. They deal in information, artifacts, rare goods. Very powerful, very secretive." Lyra studied the card. "They're neutral in most conflicts. They don't take sides."
"So why are they inviting you to an auction?"
"I don't know. But House Roe doesn't do anything without a reason." She looked at Kael. "This might be important. They might have information about Julian. Or..." She hesitated. "Or about the sword."
"It could be a trap," Ethan pointed out.
"Everything could be a trap," Lyra replied. "But House Roe's reputation is built on neutrality. If they're reaching out, it's because they want to trade information. And right now, we need information more than anything."
"When is it?" Kael asked.
"Five days from now. Evening. Formal dress required." She raised an eyebrow at Kael. "Think you can play wealthy merchant for one night?"
"If I have to."
"You have to. This auction, it might be our best chance to find out where Julian went. Or to learn more about how to control the sword." She set the card down. "Plus, House Roe's vault is legendary. If there's anything in this world that could help you—artifacts, knowledge, magic—they'll have it or know where to find it."
Kael looked at the invitation. Five days. It felt too soon. He wasn't fully healed from the fortress fight, and the memory of losing control still haunted him.
But Lyra was right. They needed information. They needed allies. And sitting in a safe house waiting for Julian to surface wasn't a plan.
"Okay," he said. "We go to the auction."
"We'll need proper clothes," Lyra said, already planning. "New identities. Background stories that'll hold up to scrutiny. House Roe vets their guests carefully."
"Can you handle that?"
"Please. I've been forging identities since I was twelve." She stood, energized by the challenge. "This could be good, Kael. A real lead."
Or it could be another disaster. Another fight. Another moment where the sword tried to take control.
But what choice did they have? Hiding wasn't living. And they'd come too far to stop now.
"Five days," Kael said. "We better start preparing."
Over the next five days, Lyra worked her network. She acquired formal clothes—expensive but not too expensive, wealthy but not noble. She created background identities: Lyra became Lady Thorne, a wealthy widow from the eastern provinces. Kael became Lord Voss—close enough to his real name that he'd respond naturally, but common enough not to raise suspicion.
She drilled him on etiquette, on how to move in noble circles, on what to say and what to avoid.
"Don't mention the sword," she said for the tenth time.
"I wasn't going to mention the sword."
"And don't start fights. House Roe has strict rules about violence at their events."
"I know."
"And if you see Julian—"
"I won't kill him in the middle of an auction," Kael finished. "I understand."
Lyra studied him. "Do you? Because you have a history of not controlling yourself around Julian."
"I'll control myself," Kael promised. "This is too important."
She seemed satisfied with that.
On the evening of the auction, they dressed in their formal clothes. Kael barely recognized himself in the mirror—he looked like one of the nobles he used to envy, back when his father was alive.
Lyra looked stunning. The dress was deep blue silk that brought out her eyes, and her hair was styled in an elaborate arrangement that probably took hours.
"You clean up well," she said, adjusting his collar.
"You're beautiful," Kael replied.
She smiled. "Save the compliments. We need to be professional tonight. No kissing, no hand-holding. We're business associates only."
"That'll be hard."
"I know. But necessary." She stepped back, all business now. "Ready?"
Kael checked that Soulrender was secured—hidden in a walking stick that passed inspection without revealing the blade inside. "Ready."
They left the safe house as the sun set, heading toward the noble quarter and House Roe's estate.
Whatever waited for them there—information, danger, or something else entirely—they'd face it together.
One way or another, tonight would change things.
Kael could feel it.
* * *
END OF CHAPTER 30