When she finished, Nyra's expression darkened. "If Merek's involved, you need to be careful. He's beloved by half the army. If Kaelion moves too soon…"
"It could start a civil war," Elira finished quietly.
Nyra hesitated. "You should leave this to the Crown Prince."
"I won't be a girl in a tower," Elira said. "Not anymore."
—Kaelion's Chambers, That Night—
He didn't expect her at his door. Not with her hair still loose, her cloak barely fastened.
"Elira?"
She stepped inside, holding the scroll with Merek's name.
"I want to help," she said.
"I already am."
"No." She looked up at him, gaze steady. "We do this together. Or not at all."
He stared at her for a long moment. Then nodded once.
"Then you'll come with me. Tomorrow night. No guards. No titles. Just us."
"To where?"
He met her gaze. "To the flames that built this empire."
—Elsewhere, Deep in the Court—
Lord Merek watched the fire crackle in his hearth, sipping spiced brandy. A raven sat on his window.
In his hand was a silver ring—a ring once worn by the Queen of Velanthia.
He smiled.
"She's starting to ask questions."
The raven cawed.
"And when she finds the answers," he said softly, "she'll wish she hadn't."