Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
Isat forward on the plush velvet couch, elbows braced on my knees, heart pounding with truths that didn’t feel like mine but settled into my bones all the same.
“Is my bloodline connected to the Virelith Crystal?” I asked, the words slow, deliberate.
Alahathrial’s lavender eyes met mine. He didn’t blink.
“It was rumored to have been created by an ancestor in your bloodline,” he said carefully. “A powerful fae woman whose magic was said to rival the very stars. But I cannot confirm it is true. Those stories were old when I was young.”
I leaned back, breath catching.
The stories. The rumors. The king’s obsession.
“The Blood Fae are looking for me,” I said softly. “They’ve already tried to acquire me. Sent emissaries. Assassins. I don’t know what they want, but I can feel them circling.”
Alahathrial’s expression darkened. “Then they believe you can unlock their power. Or access something they cannot. But be wary, Ashe.” His voice turned to steel.
“They will use you. Discard you the moment you have served your purpose. They know no love. No loyalty. Everything they do is to increase the Blood King’s power. ”
“I figured.” I let the bitterness twist into my voice. “I don’t want anything to do with them.”
He tensed in his seat. His hands folded tighter, his spine going ramrod straight. “Be wary, still. There are those within Warriath who would aid the Blood Fae if it meant securing power for themselves.”
My eyes narrowed. “The Blood Fae will turn on anyone who helps them. Surely even traitors know that.”
Alahathrial was silent for a long moment.
Then, finally, he said, “That is not entirely true.”
My breath caught. “What do you mean?”
“They need Warriath,” he said. “They need the dragons to continue breeding. Without access to the dragon eggs… their future is crippled.”
I sat in stunned silence.
“They don’t want the kingdom destroyed, Ashlyn,” he continued. “They want access. To the nests. To the eggs. When required.”
My stomach twisted.
“The dragons would break the treaty,” I said, my voice low. “If their eggs were taken. If they were stolen.”
Alahathrial’s expression didn’t change.
“Only,” he said, “if they believed the crown had anything to do with it.”
The chill that ran down my spine had nothing to do with the cold stone around us.
Because in that moment, I realized—
There were worse things than war.
And betrayal was one of them.
Alahathrial’s words lingered like smoke, clinging to skin, to breath, to memory.
We sat in that stillness, the flicker of enchantment light glinting off the curve of the crystal decanter beside him, untouched.
Tae spoke first, his voice low. “So that’s how you’d run it, then? Warriath. You’d allow just enough Blood Fae incursions a year to keep them quiet? Feed them a few eggs, a few lives… and make it look like the wards are holding?”
Alahathrial didn’t flinch. “If I were your king and my sole purpose was preserving power, then yes. That is precisely what I’d do.”
I shook my head slowly, disbelief bleeding into anger. “The warders are supposed to keep the Blood Fae from entering Warriath. That’s their whole damn purpose.”
“They do,” Alahathrial said calmly. “But it takes many to maintain the outer ring of protections. The deep wards are ancient, and they are faltering. Fewer and fewer of your kind are taking the tower vows. The spells weaken as the old warders die off or burn out.”
My stomach turned as understanding settled in my gut like rot.
“That’s why they allowed commoners to enter the academies,” I whispered. “It wasn’t about equality. It wasn’t about opening the guilds.” I looked up, heart thundering. “It was about the warders. They needed fresh blood. More minds.”
Alahathrial inclined his head. “They don’t care about the other guilds, Ashlyn. The swords, the healers, the riders, they’re useful, yes. But not essential. Not like the warders are.”
“But commoners bonding to dragons,” Tae said carefully, “that’s not something the king wants.”
Alahathrial’s smile was thin, almost sad. “It is the last thing he wanted. But he could not publicly put out a call for warders only. That would raise questions. Suspicions. The guilds had to be opened all at once, and framed as an act of compassion. Unity.”
He glanced toward me, eyes as sharp as ice.
“Besides,” he added, “commoner swordsmen die quietly. And healers follow orders.”
I clenched my jaw, the pieces falling into place so fast I felt dizzy.
The new structure. The sudden recruitment. The rapid shift in guild culture.
The illusion of reform hiding a war machine running on desperation and manipulation.
“I fucking hate politics,” I muttered.
Alahathrial’s expression didn’t change. “Get used to it,” he said softly. “You’re in the middle of a war.”
A sharp shout echoed from the hallway; booted footsteps thudding closer.
Alahathrial exhaled a soft sigh, the serenity never leaving his expression. “It seems our time has come to an end.”
He stood, smoothing the front of his robes with elegant ease, and looked at me with something warm in his lavender eyes.
“Please come back soon. You are always welcome, Ashlyn.”
Then he raised his hands and murmured something in a language I didn’t recognize, old and laced with power, the words curling like mist around us.
I turned to Tae just as his features shimmered. His armor deepened in tone, his shoulders broadened, and suddenly, I was staring at one of the guards we’d seen earlier, the very one Tae had scattered with that strange ability.
Tae blinked. Then stared at me like I’d grown wings.
“Wow, Ashe.”
“What?” I asked, frowning.
He motioned to the mirror beside the bookshelf.
I turned—and froze.
Gone was the white hair, the flight leathers, the wary eyes of a soldier on edge.
Staring back at me was a tall brunette woman with cascading curls pinned elegantly around a crown of silver.
I wore a floor-length gown in the deepest amethyst, the fabric clinging to curves I didn’t have, embroidered with tiny glimmering stars that shifted when I moved.
My sleeves hung off the shoulder, sheer and threaded with silver filigree.
My neck glittered with a sapphire choker, and even my lips had deepened into a berry gloss.
It was… extravagant.
Obvious.
Alahathrial smiled faintly. “You appear as my consort. Just walk out the front gate. Once you cross the castle wards, the illusion will fall, and you may return to your rooms.”
The door opened suddenly, and a real guard stepped inside, catching us mid-turn.
He glanced at me, eyes widening slightly. “I’m sorry, Alahathrial. I wasn’t aware Sheri was visiting tonight.”
Alahathrial gave a dismissive wave, his tone languid. “That’s quite alright. She just stopped by to make arrangements for a… special evening.”
He gestured to Tae, now a castle guard, who stood stiffly at my side.
“Roberto will escort her out.”
The guard gave a knowing smirk, nodding as he stepped aside. “Of course. Enjoy your night, my lord.”
Tae and I moved quickly but smoothly, exiting the suite and climbing the narrow stairwell. The glamour shimmered around us, catching the torchlight just enough to make me look like a woman who belonged to velvet cushions and whispered secrets, not stolen missions and ancient bloodlines.
It was working.
Everything was going perfectly.
Until we rounded the last bend near the dungeon exit—
And the real Roberto, the very guard Tae was impersonating, came striding straight toward us.
His eyes narrowed.
Tae tensed beside me, one hand flexing.
And I smiled, lifting my chin, preparing to lie through my teeth with the voice of a courtesan in love with danger.
The real Roberto froze mid-step at the top of the stairs, eyes locking on me. His face twisted with confusion, then fury.
“Imposter!” he barked, pointing straight at Tae.
Tae didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, mirroring Roberto’s expression perfectly and shouted in the same voice, “He’s the imposter!”
The two identical voices echoed off the stone walls, sharp and commanding.
I blinked between them, panic prickling beneath my skin. “What do we do?!” I whispered, pressing my hands to my face.
The guard who’d escorted us out turned, uncertainty flickering across his face. He looked from Roberto to Tae, clearly overwhelmed, until his grip tightened on his sword.
He drew it and leveled the blade at Roberto.
The real one.
Tae followed suit instantly, his own sword sliding free with a practiced, fluid motion. I stepped back, unnoticed behind the chaos, my fingers curling around the hilt of the dagger hidden in my skirts.
Roberto snarled. “You’re making a mistake, that one’s the changeling!”
The guard thought Tae was a Blood Fae. Changeling magic was reputed to be dark.
The guard took one uncertain step toward him—
And I acted.
I darted behind him and cracked the pommel of my dagger against the back of his head. He crumpled instantly, his sword clattering to the floor at my feet.
And then chaos erupted.
Steel clashed against steel as Tae and Roberto lunged at each other, blades ringing in the narrow stairwell. Sparks danced where their swords collided, and the sound echoed like thunder in the stone hall.
Tae fought defensively, parrying, ducking, weaving with agility and precision, but it was clear he didn’t want to hurt the man. His blows were meant to disarm, not maim.
But Roberto?
He was out for blood.
Every strike was vicious, aimed to kill; thrusts to the throat, slashes at the gut. His blade kissed Tae’s side in a sudden, brutal arc, cutting through the illusion-glamour and crimson staining his shirt beneath the guard’s armor.
“Watch out!” I shouted.
He gritted his teeth, twisting away from the next strike, and with a sharp pivot, he slammed his hilt into Roberto’s temple. The man crumpled with a grunt, falling hard onto the stone.
Tae staggered back, hand pressed to his bleeding side. “We need to go.”
I nodded, adrenaline surging like wildfire. We bolted through the corridor, slipping down the nearest servant passage as I yanked the unconscious guard’s keyring from his belt.
Still cloaked in our illusion, we stormed through the castle like nobility with a mission, no one daring to stop us.
Once we crossed the outer ward of the castle, the glamour peeled away like mist burned off by the sun.
My skin shifted, shimmered, and suddenly I was me again, white-haired and leather-clad.
Tae stumbled beside me, breathing heavily.
“This way,” I said, looping my arm under his to support him. “We’re going to the Healers’ Quadrant.”
We ducked down the winding alley behind the mess hall, slipping through the east entrance just as the pain caught up with him fully.
The glamour may have vanished—
But the wound was very, very real.
We moved quickly through the quiet moonlit grounds, slipping into the soft hush of the Yarrow Gardens, the air thick with the scent of blooming herbs and dew-drenched petals.
The winding paths were lined with silverleaf trees, their branches swaying in the breeze, and medicinal flowers that would be plucked come morning.
Tae leaned heavily against me, his steps uneven, the blood on his side staining the hios tunic. I kept my arm tight around his waist, guiding him through the carved archway into the Healers’ Quadrant.
It was silent—too silent.
The stone halls echoed beneath our boots as I passed through the dim corridors. Cots were empty, lanterns extinguished. Most of the healers were asleep.
But I knew she’d hear me.
“Meri!” I called softly but urgently. “Meri, I need you.”
For a breath, there was no answer, just the drip of water somewhere in the distance.
Then soft footsteps came from down a narrow hallway, and she appeared.
Meri looked like something out of an old tale, her long red hair unbound and rippling down her back, her white nightdress glowing in the low light, bare feet padding silently across the stone. Her bright-green eyes fixed on Tae, her mouth already pressing into a concerned line.
She looked like an angel.
Without a word, she motioned for me to follow and led us down the corridor into her private chamber. We obeyed, keeping our voices low, the air thick with exhaustion and urgency.
“Here,” she said gently, gesturing to the small cot tucked near a wall lined with salves and tinctures.
Tae groaned as he sat down, and Meri knelt in front of him with quiet efficiency. Her fingers moved quickly to unbuckle the bloodied armor and peel back the leathers to reveal the wound beneath.
She hissed softly. “It isn’t deep. The blade mostly deflected off the armor. He’s lucky.”
Tae leaned back, head resting against the wall, his breath shaky.
“I need twenty minutes with him, Ashlyn,” Meri said. “Then you can take him home.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, and touched her arm.
She gave me a reassuring smile before placing her palms gently on either side of the gash.
Tae’s entire body relaxed in an instant. His eyes fluttered closed, and a low sigh escaped his lips.
“God, that is soothing,” he murmured, staring up at Meri like she’d descended from the heavens just to heal him.
She didn’t blush. Just kept working.
I slipped out the door, the scent of lavender and copper lingering in the air, and left them to the quiet magic between healer and wounded soldier.
I turned to the sound of boots echoing behind me.