The days blurred together after that.
We worked constantly, mapping the network, connecting evidence, preparing for the meeting Terrik had
mentioned. Every courier we tracked, every payment we documented, every witness we found added another
thread to the web we were building.
Joss handled the surveillance, coordinating with Sael's men to watch known drop points and safe houses. Maer
worked the streets, using his scout training to follow targets without being seen. And I compiled everything,
organizing the chaos into something coherent, something that could be presented as irrefutable proof.
Three ministers. A dozen brokers. Houses Rothera, Merent, and at least five others. And somewhere above it all,
someone in the palace pulling strings.
We were close. So close I could feel it.
But something was wrong.
It started small. A courier who changed his route at the last second. A drop point that went unused. A broker who
didn't show up for a scheduled meeting. Little adjustments, barely noticeable on their own, but together they
formed a pattern.
Maros Welle was moving.
"He knows," Joss said on the fifth day. "He knows we're watching."
We stood in my room at the Cracked Bell, maps and notes spread across every surface. I stared at the marks
we'd made, the routes we'd traced, looking for the error.
"How?" I asked. "We've been careful. We haven't intercepted anything major, haven't arrested anyone who
could warn him."
"Maybe we don't need to. Maybe he's just paranoid enough to adjust on instinct." Joss pointed to the map.
"Look at the pattern. He's not running. He's adapting. Changing routes, moving operations, but not shutting
down. Which means he doesn't know exactly what we have, but he suspects something."
"Then we move faster. We finish mapping what we can, and we wait for Terrik's information about the meeting.
Once we have Maros in person, none of this matters."
"And if Maros doesn't show up to the meeting?"
"Then we use what we have and present it to Edrin. It won't be perfect, but it'll be enough."
Joss didn't look convinced, but he nodded.A knock at the door interrupted us. Maer entered, his expression grim.
"We have a problem," he said.
The problem was a body.
One of our informants, a merchant who'd agreed to testify about broker intimidation, had been found in an alley
near the river docks. Throat cut, pockets emptied, made to look like a robbery.
But we knew better.
"They're cleaning up," Joss said as we stood over the covered body. The city guard had already been by, made
their notes, declared it a common crime. They'd left the body for the undertakers. "Getting rid of anyone who
might talk."
"How did they know?" I asked. "We were careful. We kept the witness list small, only people we could protect."
"Maybe not careful enough." Maer crouched beside the body, examining the wound. "This was professional.
Quick, clean, no hesitation. Whoever did this has killed before."
"Maros's people."
"Or someone hired by the houses. Either way, they're moving to protect themselves." He stood. "Ryn, we need
to get the other witnesses somewhere safe. Now. Before they're all silenced."
He was right. We had four other people who'd agreed to testify, merchants and clerks who'd seen enough to
corroborate our evidence. If they started dying, we'd have documents but no voices to verify them.
"Get Sael," I said. "Tell him we need safe houses, somewhere outside the merchant district where the houses
can't easily reach. And tell him we need them today."
Maer nodded and left at a run.
I looked down at the covered body and thought about the price of testimony. About how many people had died
because they'd tried to do the right thing.
About how many more might die before this was over.
By evening, we'd moved three of the four remaining witnesses. The fourth, a clerk from the treasury building,
refused to leave.
"I have a family," he said when I found him at his home. "I have a position. If I disappear, they'll know I talked.
They'll come for my wife, my children."
"If you stay, they'll come for you. And then your family anyway."
"You don't know that."He stood in his doorway, fear and stubbornness warring on his face. Behind him, I could hear children's voices,
a woman singing softly.
"I can't run," he said finally. "I won't. But I'll testify. When you're ready to present your evidence, send word. I'll
be there."
"That might be too late."
"Then I'll take that risk. For my family."
I wanted to argue, wanted to force him to see reason. But I understood. Sometimes the choice between duty and
family wasn't a choice at all.
"Stay vigilant," I said. "Lock your doors. Trust no one."
He nodded and closed the door.
I walked back to the Cracked Bell and added his name to the list of people I might not be able to save.
The summons from Edrin came that night.
Not a messenger this time, but a palace guard in full armor, carrying a sealed letter marked urgent. I broke the
seal and read.
Come immediately. Private matter. Use the east entrance.
No signature. Just the prince's crest pressed into red wax.
I armed myself and went alone.
The east entrance led to a private wing of the palace, away from the grand halls and public chambers. A servant
met me at the door and led me through narrow corridors to a sitting room I hadn't seen before.
Edrin stood by the fireplace, a glass of wine in his hand. He looked tired, shadows under his eyes, his hair less
perfectly arranged than usual.
"Captain," he said. "Thank you for coming."
"Your message said urgent."
"It is." He set down his glass and crossed to a desk, pulling out a stack of papers. "I've been doing my own
investigating. Quietly, using resources my father doesn't know I have. And I found something you need to see."
He handed me the papers. I scanned them quickly. Payment records, similar to what we'd found, but these were
different. More recent. And they included names we hadn't seen before.
"Where did you get these?" I asked."A clerk in my father's office. Someone who's been watching the ministers, noticing discrepancies. He came to
me three days ago because he didn't know who else to trust."
"Why come to you?"
"Because everyone knows I want reform. Everyone knows I'm impatient with the way my father runs the court."
He paused. "And because I'm the only one with enough authority to act who isn't already compromised."
I studied the papers more carefully. "These show payments continuing even after we started our investigation.
They're adjusting, but they're not stopping."
"Exactly. Which means they're confident they can weather whatever we throw at them. Or they have protection
we don't know about."
"Protection in the palace?"
"Maybe. Or protection from someone who controls the palace." He met my gaze. "Ryn, I need to know. If we
present this evidence, if we accuse ministers and houses and possibly people close to the Emperor himself, are
you prepared for what comes next?"
"I came here to get justice. Whatever that takes."
"Even if it means tearing the realm apart? Even if it means the court turns on you, the houses call for your
arrest, the Emperor himself questions your loyalty?"
"Yes."
He studied me for a long moment, something unreadable in his expression. Then he stepped closer, close
enough that I could smell the wine on his breath, see the exhaustion in his eyes.
"You terrify me," he said quietly.
"Why?"
"Because you actually mean it. You'd burn everything down for justice, even if it cost you your life." He
reached out, his hand hovering near my face but not quite touching. "Most people I know would take the
evidence, leverage it for personal gain, negotiate their way to safety. But you, you'd walk into the fire just to
make sure it burned hot enough."
"Someone has to."
"Do they? Or do you just need to believe that because the alternative is admitting you don't know how to live
any other way?"
The words hit too close to Maer's, too close to truths I didn't want to examine.
"We should focus on the evidence," I said.
"We should. But I can't stop thinking about you." His hand finally touched my face, fingers tracing my jaw with
deliberate slowness. "About what drives someone to sacrifice so completely. About whether you even realize
what you're giving up.""I want to help you. Not just politically. I want to give you what you need to finish this. But I also want you to
understand that once we start this, there's no going back. The people we're going after, they won't forgive. They
won't forget. And they'll come for you with everything they have."
"I know."
"And you still want to proceed?"
"Yes."
His thumb brushed across my cheekbone, the gesture intimate and deliberate. "Then I'll arrange the
presentation. One week. Select audience, controlled environment, direct access to the Emperor. We present
everything, all at once, and we force action."
"And after?"
"After, you'll have enemies. Powerful ones. You'll need protection, patronage, someone with enough authority to
shield you from retaliation." He leaned closer, his voice dropping. "You'll need me."
I caught his wrist, the same gesture as before, and moved his hand away. But this time he didn't let go. His
fingers curled around mine, warm and insistent.
"Why do you keep pushing me away?" he asked.
"Because this isn't about you and me. It's about the investigation."
"Is it? Because from where I'm standing, it feels like you're afraid of what might happen if you let yourself want
something."
"I want justice."
"That's not what I mean, and you know it." He pulled me slightly closer, not forcing but testing. "You're allowed
to want more than duty, Ryn. You're allowed to want someone who sees you, who understands what you're
doing, who can give you the power you need to actually change things."
"And that's you?"
"It could be. If you let it."
I looked at him, at the intensity in his eyes, the way he held my hand like it was something precious. And I felt
the pull. Not love, not even affection, but something darker. Recognition. The understanding that we were both
willing to burn things down to get what we wanted.
It would be easy to lean into it. To let him offer protection and power and the illusion of partnership.
But I knew better.
"I appreciate the help," I said, pulling my hand free. "And I'll work with you to present the evidence. But that's
all this is. A professional alliance."
"For now.""Forever."
He smiled, but there was something sharp in it. Something wounded. "We'll see, Captain. People change.
Circumstances change. You might find you need me more than you think."
"I'll take that risk."
"I'm sure you will." He walked to the desk and gathered the papers. "Take these. Add them to your evidence.
And be ready for the presentation. One week."
I took the papers and left, his gaze heavy on my back the entire way.
Outside, the night air was cold and sharp. I walked quickly, putting distance between myself and the palace, and
thought about power and protection and the price of accepting either.
Edrin wanted me. Not just as an ally, but as something more. Something he could possess, control, shape to his
vision.
And the terrifying part was how tempting it was. Not him, but what he offered. Security. Authority. The ability
to finish what I'd started without constantly looking over my shoulder.
But accepting meant giving up something I couldn't name. Some part of myself that was still mine.
So I'd keep refusing.
And I'd hope it was enough.
When I returned to the Cracked Bell, Maer was waiting.
He stood when I entered, his expression carefully controlled. "We need to talk."
"About what?"
"About the fact that you're drowning and won't let anyone pull you out."
I set down the papers and turned to face him. "Maer, I don't have time for this."
"You never have time. That's the problem." He crossed the room, stopping just in front of me. "Ryn, I've
watched you for weeks now. Watched you push yourself harder and harder, take bigger risks, ignore every
warning. And I've tried to be patient, tried to give you space to figure this out on your own. But I can't
anymore."
"Can't what?"
"Can't watch you destroy yourself." His voice cracked slightly. "You're chasing something that's going to kill
you. And when it does, you'll die thinking you did the right thing, never realizing you could've had more."
"I have what I need."
"No, you don't. You have duty. You have evidence. You have a mission. But you don't have anything for
yourself. No joy, no peace, no future beyond the next fight.""That's not true."
"Isn't it? When was the last time you laughed? When was the last time you let yourself feel something that
wasn't guilt or duty or anger?"
I didn't have an answer.
He stepped closer, his hands gentle on my shoulders. "I love you. I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I love
you enough to watch you walk away if that's what you need. But I also love you enough to tell you the truth.
You're not saving anyone, Ryn. You're just punishing yourself for surviving when others didn't."
"That's not fair."
"It's completely fair. And you know it." He pulled me closer, his forehead resting against mine. "Please. When
this is over, when you've delivered your evidence and exposed your conspiracy, promise me you'll stop. That
you'll let yourself rest. That you'll remember there's more to life than dying for a cause."
"I can't promise that."
"Then promise you'll try. Just try. For me."
I looked at him, at the pain in his eyes, the love that was breaking him. And I wanted to promise. Wanted to tell
him I'd stop, I'd rest, I'd let someone take care of me for once.
But I couldn't lie.
"I don't know how," I said quietly.
He nodded slowly, resignation settling over him like snow. "I know. That's why I have to go."
"Maer..."
"Not now. Not tonight. But soon. After the presentation, after you've finished what you came here to do. I have
to leave, Ryn. Because if I stay, I'll watch you burn out, and I can't survive that."
"You don't have to go."
"Yes, I do. For both of us." He kissed my forehead, soft and final. "But until then, I'm here. I'll watch your back,
I'll keep you safe, and I'll hope that somewhere in all this, you find a reason to keep living that isn't just duty."
He left before I could respond.
I stood alone in the room, surrounded by evidence and maps and the weight of choices I couldn't undo.
One week until the presentation.
One week until everything changed.
I just had to survive that long.