Anees nods, adding, “Colonel Rogon himself admits she's becoming formidable. The combat arena has never seen a darkblood move like Esme does.”
Arrynth leans forward, a cool grin spreading across his face. “I heard you gave Leena Braynor quite the thrashing. Good. Those Braynors need humbling. All muscle and no mind.”
“Colonel Rogon stepped in before I could finish the job,” I reply, my lips curving slightly. “But she got the message. My abilities have... evolved since the blood exchange. Wouldn't you agree, Dayn?”
The scrape of his knife against the plate is his only response. He carves another slice of food, seemingly fascinated by the task. His family's eyes dart between us, the silence stretching uncomfortably.
“LordDaynthazar?” I press, my voice sharper.
Nothing. The deliberate silence burns under my skin. Why does his indifference affect me so much?I'm not some silly schoolgirl desperate for validation.
“The wedding arrangements,” Bemmar interjects, “how do they progress?”
“On schedule,” Dayn finally speaks. “We marry in two weeks' time.”
The bread I'm lifting freezes halfway to my mouth, then tumbles back to my plate with a soft thud. Every eye at the table swivels toward me. “Excuse me?”
Dayn meets my gaze directly for the first time. “Everything proceeds exactly as planned.”
My mind races. This wasn't our plan—not the one I knew about. I force a neutral expression. “Perhaps we should discuss certain details privately?”
“Unnecessary,” he dismisses. “Nyssa oversees all bridal preparations.”
My fingers tighten around my fork, the metal bending slightly. I imagine the satisfaction of launching the entire plate at his arrogant face. Instead, I inhale slowly.
“My lord,” I say through clenched teeth, “there are matters requiring your personal attention.”
His expression remains impassive. “Speak with Nyssa.”
My fork warps between my fingers as I grip it tighter. Anees's knee nudges mine under the table, and when I glance at him, he gives a subtle shake of his head. The warning only makes my blood simmer hotter.
“Perhaps you'd like to see me spar today?” I flash Dayn a razor-edged smile. “Leena Braynor requested a rematch. It should be... educational.”
Arrynth leans forward. “Count me in. I'd pay good coin to watch another Braynor humiliation.”
“Then you go, brother.” Dayn rises abruptly, chair legs scraping against stone. “I have matters requiring my attention.”
As he strides toward the door, he casts a fleeting glance back—too quick to read, too deliberate to ignore. My chest tightens in a way that confuses me.
Bemmar clears his throat. “My son juggles many responsibilities beyond wedding preparations. Political matters demand his focus.”
“What Father means,” Anees murmurs beside me, “is don't take it personally. Dayn is... preoccupied.”
“We used to be preoccupied together,” I reply tersely. “When did I become excluded?”
“When your shadow energy became priority.” Anees's eyes flick to my still-bent fork. “He believes your abilities deserve undivided attention.”
I offer a single, curt nod.
The feeling settles like ice in my stomach. To Darkbirch, to Draethys, even to Dayn… I'm not Esme Salem. I'm just a darkblood weapon with convenient powers. And it seems nothing more.
18
DAYN
Idrum my fingers against the council table, waiting for the other houses to arrive. My mind drifts to Esme for the third time this hour. I catch myself mid-thought and force my attention back to the documents before me.
“You're scowling again,” Anees says, settling into the chair beside mine.
