The lockbox still sat on the dresser, unopened since Kaelen handed it to me.
I hadn't touched the gun since. Not because I was afraid of it.
Because I wasn't.
It wasn't a weapon anymore. It was a symbol.
Of his trust.
Of how far we'd come.
Of how far we could fall.
The knock at my door came at the exact moment I stopped staring at it.
Three sharp raps. No hesitation.
I opened the door expecting a guard.
Instead, it was a maid—eyes wide, breath fast, like she knew she wasn't supposed to be here.
She looked past me, then held out a folded envelope.
"This was left in the library," she whispered. "In the Valtore folio."
I frowned. "Who left it?"
"No one saw." Her voice dropped. "I didn't see anyone come or go."
I took the letter and nodded once.
She disappeared down the hall.
I closed the door. Locked it.
And opened the envelope.
No wax seal.
Just handwriting. Familiar.
My father's.
The paper smelled of ash and cedar—his study always did.
There was no greeting. No emotion.
Just a sentence.
"The enemy I feared most wears your husband's face."
My heart stopped for a moment
No date. No signature. Just that line, and one more scribbled at the bottom in almost frantic haste.
"If this reaches you, it means Cassair failed."
My knees hit the bed.
Failed.
Cassair had been meant to protect me.
He was supposed to be loyal to my father, loyal to the deal, loyal to Dravik's survival.
But if he failed—
Then what the hell had he been doing?
My pulse roared in my ears.
Kaelen had just opened his vault to me.
Give me a gun.
Spoken to me like I was the only truth he had left.
And yet…
My father's voice echoed louder than Kaelen's ever had.
I stared at the letter.
And for the first time—
I didn't know who I feared more.
Cassair poured Kaelen a drink as I entered the chamber.
The map table was cleared. No weapons tonight. Just crystal glasses and flickering light.
"We're not at war?" I asked lightly.
Kaelen looked up. "For once."
Cassair gave me a nod. "Would you like one, Lady Valtore?"
"Dravik," I corrected again, same as always.
Kaelen smirked at that.
Cassair raised an eyebrow. "My mistake."
He left the room soon after, excusing himself with some lie about the west gate needing a status report.
I didn't trust his exits.
Kaelen watched me closely once we were alone.
"You've been off today," he said.
"Define 'off.'"
"Distracted. Quiet. Dangerous."
"Is that a complaint?"
"No," he said. "It's a warning."
He stood, crossed the room, and stopped just in front of me. Close enough for the heat of him to override the chill in my chest.
"You said you didn't hate me," he murmured.
"I don't."
"You said you didn't want this life."
"I didn't."
"But you're still here."
I looked up at him, heart thudding. "So are you."
Kaelen touched my hand. Not possessive. Not dominant. Just… there. Warm. Human.
"Sometimes I forget this house taught me how to survive, not how to feel," he said. "You remind me there's a difference."
The words should have landed softly and softly, they didn't.
Because my father's letter still sat under my pillow, whispering that this man—this man right here—was my greatest threat.
And still…
I didn't pull away.
"I don't know what this is between us," I whispered.
"Neither do I," he said.
"Then why keep trying?"
His answer came fast.
"Because every time I see you, I remember I'm not my father."
That cracked something in me.
And gods help me—
I wanted to believe him.
But belief was dangerous.
Especially when I didn't know if the monster I feared was standing in front of me…
Or the man trying to hold my hand.
Talon found me in the west garden just before dawn.
He didn't speak right away. Just stood beside me like a sentry, arms folded, eyes scanning shadows.
"You look like you haven't slept," I said.
"I don't when Cassair starts burning things."
That got my attention.
I turned. "Burning what?"
"Files. Letters. Documents. He told the staff it was 'old intelligence' from the Syndicate war. Said it was time to clean house."
"Do you believe that?"
Talon gave me a look. "Do you?"
I shook my head.
He handed me something wrapped in a black cloth. Folded carefully. Still warm.
"I pulled this from the edge of the incinerator before he could torch it all," he said. "Half of it's ash. But one page survived."
I unwrapped it slowly.
The paper was curled at the edges. Smoke-stained. But legible.
A list.
Twelve names.
Two houses.
Half of them were already dead.
Three were listed as targets pending.
One of those names was mine.
I stared at the word.
Just Sereya.
No title. No date. No emotion.
Just a name on a death list.
"What the hell is this?" I whispered.
Talon was watching me closely now.
"I think it's a cleanup order," he said. "For witnesses. Or loose ends."
I folded the paper, every bone in my body going cold.
"Kaelen doesn't know?"
"No," Talon said. "And if he did…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't have to.
Because the Kaelen I was coming to know—the man who looked at me like I was his last anchor—he wouldn't survive knowing Cassair had ever put me on a list like that.
I closed my fist around the page.
"I need more," I said. "I need proof he's still working with them."
"Then you'd better move fast," Talon said. "Because whatever Cassair's cleaning up… he's almost done."
Cassair found me in the corridor outside the strategy room.
He wasn't supposed to be there.
The lights were low. The hall quiet was not just quiet, Too quiet.
He stepped out from the shadows like he'd been waiting. Not rushing. Not threatening. Just... existing.
Like a ghost with good posture.
"Late night?" he asked.
I kept walking. "You know how it is. Marriage. War. Assassins."
He chuckled. "Ah, youth."
"Something on your mind?" I asked, still not looking at him.
He fell into step beside me.
"I burned some old files today," he said. "Clearing space. Dust makes the place feel heavier."
"Didn't know you were sentimental."
"I'm not."
We stopped at the corner, light from the window striping the floor.
Cassair looked at me.
Not with malice.
Not with fear.
Just... calculation.
"You ever notice," he said casually, "how ash lingers? No matter how hot the fire, how complete the burn—something always survi
ves."
I didn't answer.
He smiled. "You should be careful what you touch, Lady Valtore."
And then he walked away.
Just like that.
Not a threat.
Not a warning.
Just a reminder:
He was watching me now, too.
And unlike Kaelen...
Cassair never played games he couldn't win.