“They’re not myths.” I crossed my arms. Giulia hailed from an Ambran background—she likely didn’t believe in the old gods. “Most of the old gods died in the final battle against the Oskir and dark forces of fae and monsters.”
I turned to Moira. “The surviving humans united under one common tongue and faith after Vornfall, with Solric, god of light, as the mightiest of the surviving gods. Ragnor Ederyn founded Lirien’s kingdom afterward, and was granted divine right.”
Giulia’s lips thinned, her eyes frosting with annoyance. “Then why don’t the gods have anything to do with us? Why abandon us when we fought for them? Really, Seren. You can pretend to be a scriptrix all you want, but you’re Vangar. Don’t confuse my pupils.”
I drew a slow breath. Because the gods no longer wanted to intervene directly. Because they gave their gifts to humans and the king then stole them from most people with the Bloodbinding. Moira should be taught this. Every Viori ought to know their history—it was what made our cause just.
But proving my knowledge wouldn’t win me an ally.
I pressed my lips together. “I’m not sure,” I said, my tone conciliatory. “It doesn’t make sense, does it? Maybe you could find out and tell me.”
After a moment, Giulia dipped her chin. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Thanks again,” I said, then offered her a smile before slipping away. My mouth could get me in more trouble. One of these days I’d fill in the blanks Moira’s educator refused to—or better yet, tell Ciaran to do it.
The repository encounter rattled me.
Every moment I waited, giving Seth more time to make his own moves. If I didn’t learn how to survive the Skorn, we’d be walking into a slaughter.
And if I swallowed my pride, maybe Darya had more information to share.
I wasn’t about to walk into Emberstone blind, and I wasn’t leaving my fate to chance. If I wanted to protect Rykr and myself, I needed a way to tip the scales in our favor—including learning if there was a way to break the bond that tied our pain, and our deaths, together.
Dusk bled into the sky as I headed back to my tent.
Rykr sat at the entrance, wrists resting on his knees, irons still locked around them. Red marks ringed the skin surrounding them. Underneath would be worse.
He looked exhausted.
“How’d it go?” Rykr asked as I reached him. I’d told him my plans before I left.
Not wanting to get into the obstacles I’d faced, I shrugged. “Fine. Got a few books. Since you can read, we should go through them tonight.”
I led him inside. “We don’t have to go to the festivities tonight. I can ask Tara to bring us food.”
Rykr lifted those piercing blue-green eyes toward me but when he blinked, it was as if he looked through me. Distant. Lost in thought.
“Rykr?” He didn’t seem well. Was it still the vuk’s bite—or the news about the king?
“Go without me. I have no appetite and want to be alone.”
His words shouldn’t bother me, but they did. He didn’t see us as allies or me as a friend to console him. Darya’s warning echoed in my mind—Seth would be watching. But I wouldn’t force him.
“You understand you won’t be able to wander without me?—”
“Understood. I’m a prisoner until the Skorn. Until then, I’ll just enjoy the view of your ‘free’ people crucifying their enemies.” Bitterness laced every syllable.
Damn him.
I tried to remind myself that if the roles were reversed, I’d feel the same. But that didn’t make his contempt any easier to hear. Especially when I wasn’t sure if he was wrong.
When I didn’t answer, he stood and held out his wrists. “Any chance you’ll free me to be more comfortable while you’re gone?”
I pressed my lips tightly, the weight of the decision heavy on me. But trust wasn’t a luxury I could afford—not without proof he wouldn’t run.
“I can’t,” I said at last, keeping my voice steady. “Not yet. But I’ll find a way to make things easier for you if you give me time.”
“Right.” He shuffled toward the bedroll. “Your sister gave this to me.” Without warning, a dagger flew, burying itself in the post behind me with a soft thunk. My heart kicked hard in my chest. I forced myself not to flinch, meeting his gaze steadily, even as tension coiled tight in my shoulders.
