19. Rylan
19
RYLAN
T here are many ways to kill a man.
A blade to the throat is the simplest. Poison, slower but more insidious.
And then there is doubt.
Doubt can rot a man from the inside out, a slow, creeping decay, unraveling everything he thought was certain.
I tell myself I’m immune to it.
That I have always been able to see through the lies, the manipulations, the games.
But when Lartina’s message arrives, carried by one of her trusted servants—I feel it.
That first, sharp sting of something dangerous.
I read the letter twice, then a third time, before I slowly set it down.
The fire beside me burns low, casting deep shadows against the walls of my study, but it does nothing to chase away the cold settling in my chest.
Lartina is clever. Too clever.
And she plays her games well.
I know she’s trying to get inside my head.
I know this is bait.
But that doesn’t stop the words from sinking their claws into me.
You’re losing your edge, Rylan.
You let a human get too close.
And now she’s leading you exactly where Nhilian wants.
I exhale slowly, rolling my shoulders, forcing the tension out of my body.
I won’t let her win.
I won’t let her words take root.
But the problem is—I don’t know if she’s lying.
—
An hour later, I still haven’t moved.
The letter sits where I left it, taunting me, whispering things I’m not interested.
I press my fingers against my temple, shutting my eyes for a moment.
She’s always been a question I haven’t been able to answer.
Too bold, too fearless, too damn comfortable in my presence.
And now, I begin to wonder… Was that strength real? Or was it just another carefully crafted lie?
The thought shouldn’t hurt. But it does.
"Are you avoiding me?" Seraphina’s voice is even, but there’s something off in it as she lingers in the doorway.
Something too aware.
She knows something is wrong.
I keep my back to her, staring into the fire. "Why would I?"
"I don’t know," she says carefully. "You tell me."
I smirk, but it feels hollow.
"Don’t flatter yourself, little thief."
The name should make her bristle, should pull that familiar fire from her.
It doesn’t.
She just watches me.
Waiting.
Testing.
I exhale, finally turning to face her.
And gods help me.
She’s standing in the center of the room, arms crossed, brow slightly furrowed. Her hair is still messy from whatever restless night she had, her tunic slightly wrinkled, like she had thrown it on in a hurry.
I force my expression into something unreadable. "What do you want, Seraphina?"
Her lips press together. "You tell me."
My jaw tightens. "Don’t play games with me."
She tilts her head slightly, searching my face.
And I hate that she notices the shift in me, the hesitation, the doubt.
Doubt is weakness.
And I have never been weak.
Finally, she exhales, rubbing a hand over her jaw.
"If this is about earlier?—"
"It isn’t."
I cut her off too fast, too sharp.
Her eyes narrow.
"Then what?"
I don’t answer.
The moment I do, the moment I say the words Lartina planted in my head, I won’t be able to take them back.
I step closer.
Her breath catches.
She doesn’t step away.
I don’t know why that makes something worse inside me.
"You trust too easily," I murmur.
She blinks, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"
"You trust me." I tilt my head. "Don’t you?"
She hesitates.
And that’s the worst part.
If she were truly a spy, she wouldn’t.
If she were working for Nhilian, she wouldn’t have saved my life.
She wouldn’t have kissed me back.
And yet—I still hear Lartina’s voice in my head.
"You let a human get too close. And now she’s leading you exactly where Nhilian wants."
I step closer. Close enough that the fire casts its glow across her face. With our closeness I feel the warmth of her body.
"If I gave you a blade," I whisper, "would you drive it into my heart?"
Her breath hitches.
She doesn’t look away.
I almost want her to.
This would be easy.
But she meets my gaze head-on, unflinching, unreadable.
"If I wanted you dead," she murmurs, "I wouldn’t need a blade."
A slow, curling smirk.
Gods.
She’s either telling the truth—or she’s the best liar I’ve ever met.
And I can’t decide which is worse.
The silence stretches between us, something thick and tangled wrapping itself around my ribs.
A war is happening inside me.
One I never meant to fight.
But the truth is simple.
Either I trust her… or I don’t.
If I don’t… I will have to kill her.