“You knew that would work?”
I keep my eyes forward, but I let myself smile.
“No,” I say. “I knew it had to.”
CHAPTER 37
TYROK
The quiet doesn’t last.
It never does.
Not after something like that.
The chamber empties slowly, not in disorder, not in panic, but in something more deliberate, more controlled, like every person walking out of that room understands they’re stepping into a different version of the world than the one they walked in with. The air feels heavier now, not with tension, but with weight, consequence settling into place where structure used to sit unquestioned.
I don’t move right away.
Neither does she.
“They’re not arguing,” Stacy says beside me, her voice low, observational, her gaze still fixed on the space where the council had been seated.
“No,” I reply.
“They’re thinking,” she adds.
“Yes.”
That’s more dangerous.
And more useful.
I exhale slowly, rolling my shoulders once as the residual tension from the confrontation finally starts to bleed off, not disappearing, just shifting into something more contained.
“They’ll test it,” I say.
“Of course they will,” she replies.
“They should,” I add.
That draws a slight glance from her.
“You want that?” she asks.
“I need that,” I correct.
She studies me for a moment, then nods once, understanding settling into place without needing further explanation.
“Because if it works under pressure,” she says, “it becomes real.”
“Yes.”
“And if it doesn’t,” she continues.
I meet her gaze.
“Then it was never worth building.”
