Page 40 of A Court of Darkness and Dragons

His gaze didn’t waver. “Solei would kill me and take my seat if I broke my oath. She has never forgiven me for ordering your death. I made a mistake, one I will not make again. And you know this.”

I studied him, reading the truth and the shadows behind his words. While I believed Cyran wasn’t opposed to killing me if it served his purpose, I also knew he wouldn’t break an oath, especially not one bound by the Order. And as much as I hated to admit it, I believed him about Solei. She had risked her life to expose Veyna’s true identity. If she’d been wrong, she would be in the dungeon… or dead.

“I believe you,” I said finally.

His brow furrowed. “Then why was I summoned? Why did you suspect me?”

“Because the assassin used the numbing compound on me,” I replied. “It’s highly regulated in the Order. A novice can’t get their hands on it.”

Cyran stepped forward, his voice lower now. “You are certain it was⁠—”

I held up my hand, cutting him off. “I’m sitting because I’m still recovering from its effects. Had my squadmates not come to my rescue, had my dragon not alerted them…” My voice hardened. “…I would be dead.”

Cyran’s expression darkened, his jaw set. “Only senior assassins have access to that compound. If they went against my orders…” His voice dropped to a dangerous rumble. “…they are dead.”

“What if one of them sold it?” I asked.

He huffed, the sound low and furious. “Worse than dead.”

I thought about his words, the tight knot of unease pulling in my gut. “Maybe someone got access to the tunnels that shouldn’t have. Is there any chance you were robbed without your knowledge?”

“That compound is made off-site,” Cyran said, shaking his head. “And few in the Order have access to it at all.”

“The Crimson Sigil is marching against us,” I said slowly. “Perhaps they commissioned my death.”

His eyes blazed for a moment, and when he spoke, there was steel in every word. “I was fooled by the false banner of the Crimson Sigil. But I will not work against the crown again. Many of the Orders have fallen, and I am unsure who still lives.”

I arched a brow. “The irony is not lost on me. You sided with a faction openly hostile to the crown, and now your own seat is in jeopardy. You require our help to keep it.”

Cyran’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I am well aware of my predicament. But I guarantee you, I will find out who attained that compound. I would offer you the assassin, but we both know if your sister finds him first…” His mouth curved in a grim smile. “…nothing I say will stop her.”

I returned the smile edgier than his. “I don’t want to stop her. I just want information first.”

My voice hardened. “Specifically, whether he’s working for Severeth.”

Cyran’s expression didn’t soften, but his tone carried a grim certainty. “Anyone who finds the assassin will extract the information needed. And if any member of the Order is caught aiding the Blood Fae…” His voice dropped to something cold and final. “…they will die in the most horrible way imaginable.”

I believed him. The only thing worse than betraying Cyran’s Order was assisting the enemy.

Zander, still seated on the throne, motioned toward the doors. “You may go. Report back to me once you have tracked down the origin of the compound.”

Cyran inclined his head and turned to leave. But when he reached the massive doors, he stopped, one hand resting on the carved wood. Slowly, he turned back to meet my gaze.

“Considering your proximity to the throne,” he said, his voice calm, almost conversational, “I would never try to execute you.”

A short huff escaped me. “I know. You’ll try to exploit my position instead.”

Cyran’s mouth curved into a thin, knowing smile. “Of course.”

And then he was gone, the heavy doors shutting behind him with a deep, echoing thud.

I rose from the bench, stretching my legs. The lingering heaviness in my limbs was gone, replaced by a slight headache pulsing just behind my eyes, but otherwise, I was back to normal.

Zander stood as well, the throne looming behind him like a silent witness. “I did not have the best childhood,” he said, his tone dry but edged with truth. “And I pretty much resent my father more than anyone.” His gaze flicked toward the closed doors Cyran had just walked through. “But it’s possible your father is worse.”

I laughed, the sound short and knowing. “You haven’t even seen his mean side yet. He wasn’t kidding. If one of his own betrayed him…” I trailed off, shuddering.

“What would he do?” Zander asked, brows pulling together.