Every gaze turned to Alaric. He had no words. His Karalynna, the daughter who had never once defied him, who had sworn so young to heal and never to harm... now accused of aiding a traitor. He had tried to teach her detachment, compassion without entanglement. A Healerwho tied herself too tightly to the wounded bled with them when they died. He’d wanted to spare her that grief. But she was too much her mother’s daughter – always heart first. The Lyran in her too hard to train out. And now it seemed she had chosen the opposite of all they stood for.
It doesn’t make sense.
He glanced to Tobias Thorne. The man sat rigid, candlelight catching the silver that now threaded through his once dark hair, hands clasped tightly on the table. He held the look of a man on the brink of war.
Alaric found his voice at last. “No.” The word came out harder than intended. “This cannot be her choice. Karalynna is dutiful, she has never once strayed from her oaths. If she walks beside him now...” He looked directly at Tobias. “Then Sebastian Thorne forced her hand. Twisted her somehow.”
It was the only explanation he could bear.
Tobias stiffened. “My son may be reckless. Stubborn beyond reason.” His voice dropped low, clearly affronted. “But he would never threaten a woman. Never. That is not the Thorne way.”
“Not the Thorne way?” Simone gave a mirthless laugh. “He has already drowned one of my ships, Tobias. Fifty men sank with it. Fifty. Do you truly think someone capable of that would balk at bending one girl to his will? Use whatever leverage he could?”
“She is not ‘one girl,’” Alaric snapped, heat rising in his face. “She is my daughter. She was raised to heal, to obey the Council’s call. If she’s with him now, there must be coercion.”
Galen’s expression was cold and pitiless. “Henry saw no sign of that. When he returned to camp, Sebastian was unbound. Your daughter stood with him, not against him. She made her choice, Alaric.”
Alaric closed his eyes briefly. If that were true–
Then she’s no daughter of mine.
“Perhaps we don’t yet know the full story,” Evelyn interjected. “Words can wound as sharply as any blade. He could have slipped his bonds, threatened her life. Or Henry’s. Even the strongest falter under pressure.”
Alaric’s hands clenched against the table. He wanted – needed – to believe it. That Karalynna had been overpowered, not that she had willingly abandoned everything he had taught her. But the doubt remained.
Merrick’s voice cut through the room like a hammer. “Whether she went freely or not, the fact remains – the daughter of Hale rides besidethe traitor of Thorne. Do you know how that looks to the people? To every House in Vallenna? It reeks of betrayal.”
At that, Elias Lyra stirred, his quiet voice somehow carrying. “I felt doubt in her when we sent her.”
Every head turned.
Alaric felt like someone had doused him in ice water. “Why did you say nothing?”
“I thought...” Elias faltered, looking regretful. “I thought she doubted herself. Her ability to capture him. Not the mission itself. Not her loyalty.”
“But you should have–” Alaric began.
“I made a mistake.” Elias met his gaze. “I’m sorry, Alaric.”
The silence that followed felt louder than shouting. Alaric could feel the weight of every eye in the chamber. Judging. Calculating. Wondering if House Hale also had a traitor in their midst.
“Whatever else Sebastian has done, I will not believe he took her by force,” Tobias said vehemently.
Galen slammed his goblet down. “Then she is a traitor too!”
Merrick rose. “Tobias,” he boomed. “The time has come for action. We should have sent your soldiers from the start.”
Tobias’ gaze was frost. “I would not risk giving an order that killed my son before we knew his reasons. He was to be taken without violence.”
“That plan is gone,” Galen said sharply. “Your son now has three Shards. My son was left bound in nightshade. Hale’s skies are tearing themselves apart – gales ripping through villages. A Navyrian ship lies at the bottom of the sea. How many more lives will you gamble to save one?”
A rumble of agreement rose around the table, nods, grunts, fists banging on wood. Tobias didn’t answer. Didn’t even flinch.
“What happens if he gets the final Shard?” Merrick demanded. The room quieted a fraction. “You all remember Fatàn’s words. What was Written. When the Arcanth is whole... Draknor will rise.”
The words hung heavy in the air.
Alaric’s jaw clenched, his breath coming fast. “Where are they now?”
