“I followed Byzu. Caught him in the service tunnels with Sema Braynor.”
Dayn's jaw clenches. His eyes flicker between suspicion at my nighttime wanderings and unease. “Jeron's brother.”
“The very same. Still quite bitter about you killing his little brother, by the way.”
“Hardly unexpected.” His expression darkens. He leaves the bed and reaches for the rest of his clothes. “What exactly did you hear?”
I pace the length of the room, recounting every whispered threat, every mention of allies in noble houses, the repeated phrase “by blood and fire.” With each detail, Dayn's face grows more still, more resigned.
When I finish, he turns away, fully dressed. “I've been aware of these undercurrents for some time,” he murmurs, shoulders tensing. “And I've been working to prevent exactly this scenario.”
“Well, your prevention is failing. They're recruiting Arrynth now. If dragons attack the surface, both our kinds will tear each other apart.”
Dayn faces me, exhaustion carving lines around his eyes. “Do you imagine I don't understand what's at stake?”
I step toward him. “What's your plan? What's our plan?”
“Act normal,” he murmurs, already moving toward the door. “We're newlyweds. The ritual is evidence enough. If anyone asks?—”
“Wait. Where are you going?”
“To handle this. Trust me, Esme, ignorance is your only protection right now.”
Before I can protest, the door whispers shut behind him.
22
DAYN
The northern tower's bells reverberate through the breakfast room as I enter, their resonance settling like a weight in my gut. Across the chamber, Anees hunches over a steaming cup, methodically tearing bread into precise morsels before baptizing each in a golden pool of butter and honey.
“Brother,” he says, glancing up with a smile that falters when he catches my expression. “Joining me so early?”
I remain standing. “We need to speak. Now.”
“Can it wait until after we've eaten? Surely last night's... activities have left you famished.”
“Anees.”
With a sigh that seems to empty him, he abandons his ritual, wipes sticky fingers on linen, and follows me into the corridor. We stride through marble hallways, my eyes scanning each intersection.
“Byzu's chambers are empty,” I say.
Anees matches my pace. “He could be anywhere. What's happened?”
I stop abruptly, forcing him to face me. “Byzu is plotting with Sema Braynor. He's part of the insurrection.”
The blood drains from Anees's face. His jaw slackens, eyes widening. “Impossible.”
“I have confirmation.”
“From whom?”
“A reliable source. They met in the tunnels last night.” My voice drops lower. “If Father discovers Byzu's betrayal?—”
“Our house shatters,” Anees whispers. He rakes fingers through his hair. “Gods below, what madness has taken him?”
“My thoughts exactly. Where would he go this morning?”
