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When my eyes cracked open, an ache lingered in every corner of my body.
I didn’t move. Couldn’t. My limbs remained limp, linen sheets lay cool against skin that burned like fire inside. For a moment, I thought I might be alone, just me, the stale air, and green-tinted canvas above.
Then the familiar patter of paws stuck me in the chest. Nyla’s feet dug in like daggers as she sniffed my face and began licking my cheek with a tongue like jagged needles. I couldn’t even move enough to shake her off. But before I could make a fit about it, I heard a rhythmic smack of fists on flesh coming from the far corner.
I managed to turn just enough to catch Lyssa standing barefoot on the rugs, throwing lazy jabs at Dent’s open palms. He called out numbers like it was a game, grinning the whole time. “One-two. One-two-three. Oop, too slow.” He bobbed and weaved like a boxing coach, letting her fists slap against his palms.
She laughed, hooking too wide on purpose, so he could duck under and throw uppercuts just shy of her stomach before popping back up to call out more combos. He was stripped to the waist, movements easy, back straight, shoulders loose, no sign of weakness, only a dark tendril branching beneath his skin, crawling down his back like ink through veins.
That’s new.
Lyssa didn’t seem to notice… or maybe she didn’t care. She just chuckled and punched again, more play than practice. I would have laughed with them, but something told me it’d hurt like hell if I tried.
“That’s all you got?” Dent teased, bouncing on his toes, palms out. “I’ve had squirrels hit harder.”
“Keep talking shit,” she shot back, smile betraying her, “just don’t cry when I hit you for real.”
The smacks came faster and harder until Dent conceded with a laugh, shaking his hand. “Alright, alright, you got me.” Obviously pretending. He seemed faster than before, but not in a way that looked natural. He kept up with the barrage of blows Lyssa laid out with inhuman ease.
They kept close when the jabs ceased, leaning closer until meeting in an awkward but purposeful hug that neither of them pulled away from.
Gods, that is so cute. I thought, watching with an unseen smile. It almost felt like I was invading their privacy, but pain erupted when I tried to get up, like cold knives sliding along my insides. No use, I could hardly move an inch. So I only lay there, basking in the sweetness bleeding off their needlessly long embrace.
That's when Dent’s head jerked like a puppet on strings, eyes meeting mine. “Remy…” he breathed. A shiver ran down my spine as he moved in a near alien-like blur to my bedside. Dropping to his knees beside me.
Lyssa spun on her heels and froze when she saw me awake. Relief flickering into something like tears. “...You’re awake.” She wasn’t far behind, her eyes wide and shining. She didn’t hesitate long, just set her palms against my shoulders, leaned over, and wrapped me into a careful hug. The contact burned, but I didn’t flinch. “I’m so happy you’re okay,” she whispered, voice trembling against my ear before pulling back. “I’ll go get Val and Eshlyn.”
I almost told her no. Almost begged for another minute of quiet, but the words stayed caged behind my teeth, and she was gone.
Dent cupped my hand in his and pressed it to his forehead as if reciting a prayer. “You stubborn little shit,” he choked a laugh. “Had us worried sick.” His grin quickly faded into something softer, heavier. “Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he murmured, still clutching my palm.
“Dent.” My voice came out hoarse and dry.
“Yeah?” He stared, eyes patient, like I was going to say something important.
I swallowed, dry. “Nyla’s tongue is scratching the shit outta me.”
“Oh!” A small grin returned as he slid a hand between her and me, and she continued licking it as if nothing had changed. “She’s happy to see you.”
“Am I bleeding?” I said, half a joke. “My face feels raw.”
“I’m guessing this isn’t the first sparring match she’s had with your cheeks.”
“Cute lil torture machine.” I croaked, trying to lean on my arm, but failing. “Help me up, will ya?”
His grip didn’t wane. “I’m not sure you should be doing that.”
“Dammit, Dent, help me up.” I said, then added, quieter, “Please.”
He did, pulling me to a loose sitting position on the edge of a white, cushioned cot. “Good ol Rem… I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” I said, then looked around the room, finding the medical tent empty apart from the various tools and gauze strewn about. “I’m the last one to wake up?”
“I know what you’re about to ask and…” He immediately looked uncomfortable. “Maybe we should wait for everyone.”
“Shit… how long has it been?” I thought about the tonic Dent swallowed. The one that would slow the infection. “Did everyone make it out?”
“Everyone’s fine, Remy, but…” he said, clearing his throat. “You’ve been out for… six nights. Almost a week.”
A week!? “How are you feeling?” I asked, clarity seeping in like a slow current.
“I’m okay.” His voice came low. “You should really focus on yourself for a second, Remy… Seriously.”
“Yeah, yeah, so I took a shitty nap and my whole body's on fire.” I tried pulling my hands to my face, but they would barely move. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
He laughed a breath before replying. “You nearly died.” He said, squeezing my palm. “Even if you did end up doing something kinda amazing.”
Slowly, everything pieced itself together. The lie I told. The arrows that hit Nico. Lyssa passed out on the ground in that cave. Kael spitting potion down my throat with his final breath. The way he said, “Your grace.” Like he meant it. All of it washed a feeling like numbness mixed with crushing guilt over me. “Still think I’m a good person?”
“Don’t do that, Rem,” he sighed, pulling my gaze back. “You can't blame yourself for everything that happened.”
I slumped, nearly falling off the cot, but he caught me, cradling my whole body with his two hands before letting me lean over his shoulder. “I lied to them, Dent.”
“You didn’t do it alone.” His torso leaned against mine, but no body heat greeted me. His usual radiating warmth was absent. “That’s on all of us.”
A lump formed in my throat. “I knew it was a death trap, and I dragged them in anyway. I gambled with their lives. And Kael… he paid the price.”
“I know…” He pulled me into a gentle hug, silent arms wrapping around my back. “He knew what he was getting into. We all did.”
“You don’t get it.” Grief hit like a hammer against my sternum. “He gave his life, not for us, or me.” My head tilted to face him. “He died for a lie."
“...Remy.” He squeezed me tighter. Still gentle but firm.
“For a lie, Dent,” I whispered into his shoulder.
I could tell he wanted to say something. His muscles tensed ever so slightly. Like he was searching for the right words. Like he’d say anything to ease the growing guilt, but when it came down to it, there was nothing to say. So he only softened, letting the silence simmer.
...
Footsteps skidded outside the tent, and the flap burst open. Light poured in, along with Val, Eshlyn, and Lyssa, followed by a rush of air that tugged at the edge of the cot.
“Remy!?” Val’s voice came sharp with relief, followed by Eshlyn’s. Suddenly, the extra bodies collided into me from both sides. The four of them now forming a prison of limbs, while my own arms dangled limp.
“You’re squishing me.” I managed with a slight chuckle.
“Shut up,” Eshlyn murmured, squeezing me harder. “You scared the hell out of us.”
“No kidding,” Val chimed in, arms thoroughly wrapped. “Lyssa’s been healing you ever since she woke up from her own coma.”
Lyssa let go before they did, placing a hand on Dent and looking at him like he did something she told him not to.
“She made me,” Dent said, raising his arms in submission. “I tried to keep her down, I swear.”
“Mhmm, sure,” Lyssa muttered as Dent let go just enough to give Val and Eshlyn more space to occupy. “Sorry, Remy, it’s best if you stay put for a bit.” She continued. “But Eshlyn prepared something we think will help.”
“Mind handing it to me?” Eshlyn asked, breath warm on my back. “It’s just on the table there.”
Lyssa grabbed a brown tonic from one of the tables nearby, handing it off to Eshlyn as I finally got free of the squeezing chokehold of hugging bodies. Val and Eshlyn still hovered on their knees, a shallow breath away, while Dent moved off a bit.
“Lean your head back if you can, darling,” Eshlyn said, nodding to Val and resting a gentle palm on the back of my neck. “This should allow you to move a bit, if only for today.”
I let my head fall back into her soft hands as she guided the small vial toward my lips. The liquid was bitter-sweet, cold down my throat, but warm when it settled in my stomach. A shiver ran through me, and suddenly my limbs didn’t feel like sacks of wet grain anymore. I could move, even if it was met with radiating pinpricks. “It's only a numbing agent, so don’t go off feeling invincible.”
I flexed my hands as soon as it was finished, “Wow, that is better. Thank you.” Then turned, cupping her chin and leading her into a small but lingering kiss. She smiled when we broke apart, eyes soft, but that's when I finally got a good look at her. She was pale with bags under her eyes to the point she appeared almost sickly. “You okay?”
She only nodded, letting me go to place the empty vial down nearby. When I turned towards the front, Val was kneeling, eyes patient.
I almost laughed. “You want one too?”
He nodded with that smug smile that I loved to hate, letting his palms fall to my thighs as I pulled my arms up to cradle his neck, easing us into a tight embrace. A butterfly was set free in my gut as his soft lips pressed into mine. I couldn’t help but lean into him again as our kiss stretched into something deeper. lingering longer than was probably intended. We both chuckled a breath when we finally broke apart. Eyes longing, but Dent interrupted. “Y'all are so cute, I want to barf.”
“Awe.” Lyssa squealed. “Adorable."
A laugh spread between all five of us until I finally noticed others now funneling into the tent. Sierra, Nico, Tovin, and Bram, all donning light smiles tinged with something like grief. Even Bram seemed to soften a bit at the sight of us.
“You’re all okay,” I muttered, letting my hands fall from Val’s shoulders to take a good, long look at each of their faces. Clean. Healthy.
“Wouldn’t be, without you,” Sierra said, moving into a nearby chair. “Your Grace.”
The final two words sent a visceral chill down my spine, enough to make my jaw clench. Every syllable reminding me of Kael’s last moments. Val noticed, of course, but didn’t say anything.
“We beat the horde?” I asked after collecting myself. I knew the answer, but my memory was still fuzzy in places.
“Thanks to you,” Bram said, voice reluctant but tinged with admiration.
“Me?” The memory resurfaced, but it dragged as if from a dream.
“Don’t try to act all shy.” Nico chimed in with a grin. “The jig is up. We know your secret.”
“Y'all know?” My skin flushed with trepidation as my eyes drifted confusingly between Val and Dent. “They know?”
“Yes, your grace,” Lyssa muttered quickly, then enunciated slowly. “We all know you are a remarkable mage.”
Even if the message was clear, I nearly flinched at the ‘your grace’ part.
“I’m sure you had reason not to tell us, initially.” Tovin moved past Nico. “So we apologize for how quickly word has spread… Your grace.”
My spine went rigid, and I snapped, “Can you stop with that shit!”
The room fell quiet as regret settled into my chest. “...Sorry, I just… ”
“No need to explain,” Lyssa said, cutting in.
“Agreed.” Eshlyn moved between us. “As you can imagine, Remy’s having a hard time and is only beginning to wake up,” she said politely. “Do you mind if we get some privacy? We can catch up later.”
“Of course,” Tovin said, motioning to the group to follow him out, and they did… All but Lyssa.
Val spoke first when the tent flap finally closed. “It’s okay, Rem… We understand.”
I only nodded, unable to draw a full breath. Chest tight.
“I’ll apologize in advance.” Lyssa said quickly, “But I need to say something.”
My head tilted with everyone else's.
“You may hate it, but you have to own this.” She continued. “Kael died believing in that title with his whole heart. That sacrifice and belief has bled into everyone.”
“You knew?” I choked the words out.
“Of course I knew.” She responded. “You told me Dent was your only family.”
My brow furrowed, “Then why play along?”
“That’s not what’s important.” She said, voice firm. “No matter its validity, if you denounce that title, it will be the same as telling them Kael died for nothing… and that can’t happen.”
“She’s right.” Eshlyn stepped up. “The truth is not what matters now.”
“It's true to them.” Val cut in. “And it was true to Kael.”
The guilt returned, heavy as stone.
“Exactly,” Lyssa said.
“Easy for you to say.” I snapped back with more bite than I meant to. “Not like you're the one who has to live with it.”
“I know it's not fair.” She softened, if only a little. “I know it must feel like shit, but you have to… I'm sorry.”
Maybe it is fair. A fitting punishment.
Silence stretched before I finally replied. “Alright… I understand.” Then continued. “ Thank you all for being here. For everything. I mean it, honestly. But… I think I'd like to be by myself for a bit.”
They each passed a glance around the room before Eshlyn squeezed my hand. “Of course, darling… take all the time you need.”
Val pulled me in for one last hug. “I'm here if you need anything.”
“We all are,” Dent said, patting my head.
“Thank you.”
They each hugged or patted me in some way before heading out one at a time. Until finally, only a freeing quiet remained.
...
I sat alone after everyone left, the warm press of company slowly faded from the tent like a held breath. The ache behind my eyes returned, heavier now that the laughter, pressure, and kindness had all gone.
Quiet.
Finally.
The ease settled in as I leaned back against the cot, arm draped over my ribs, watching dust drift through the lanternlight.
Then…
Fwump.
I flinched as a folder dropped down onto the table beside me. Thick. Heavy and stamped with official-looking ink. My body jolted up on instinct, pain flashing in the same moment, but at least I could move now, however reluctantly.
Dagonbord came into view just behind it, stepping from the corner like he’d always been part of the shadow. Hands folded, posture relaxed, and the barest trace of amusement curving his mouth.
“I must say,” he murmured, “your companions are quite devoted. I almost felt bad watching… Almost”
Shit, had he seriously been here the whole time?
I didn’t answer, just stared at the paperwork for a long second, eyes drifting to the label.
Criminal Registry File — Class C Fugitive: IVAN
Everything in me went still. I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
He took a single, unhurried step around my cot. “You do know it’s a crime to assume a false identity. Treasonous even, to claim a noble line. Though I suppose it's only a drop in the bucket, considering a hardened criminal such as yourself.”
My gaze stayed on the folder. To that name, I hadn’t heard in years.
He waited. Patient. Like this was all very civilized. Then read, pacing. “Sixteen counts of burglary, eleven counts of possession of stolen property, twenty counts of resisting arrest, evading capture, racketeering, fencing, conspiracy, arson, and finally… murder of a Watch Official.”
Then sat down in front of me, eyes lurking. “What do you have to say for yourself… Ivan?”
The word hit like a slap, sending pinpricks up my spine like he’d stripped me bare. I met his gaze anyway, heat rising behind my eyes, immediate and burning. My voice was firm and full of fire. “Don’t you dare use that name with me.”
His smile widened, just a little, like he’d been hoping for that response, but he didn’t repeat it. Didn’t need to. He just set another folder down beside him.
Class A Subject Of Interest — Alias: “Remy Elleth”
“This one's new… unofficial and classified… for now.” He cleared his throat while I only stared. “Subject possesses no recorded lineage but has adopted the name of the Elleth family. Displays high-functioning field leadership under extreme duress. Psychological profile shows signs of trauma, anti-authoritarian ideology, and resilience inconsistent with origin and floor status. Suspected natural law anomaly…” He paused there as if waiting for a response.
I had no idea what a ‘natural law anomaly’ was, but it stuck in my mind all the same.
“All that, from an orphan, born with nothing… It’s almost impressive.” Another deliberate pause. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Get to the fucking point already.” I snapped, not caring how it came out. Not like he needed to elaborate further. I knew I was done for the second that file hit the table.
He smiled, all sharp teeth behind silk. “You’re a problem, Remy. An anomaly. A liar, fraud, murderer, I could go on… but the point is you're going to be put away for a long, long time, that is if you're lucky enough not to be executed for murder, and treason.”
Figures. I steadied a breath. “Seems like you have everything you need… So what’s stopping you?”
He didn’t blink. “Well, as it turns out, you have a certain tenacity that my court finds… appealing. A shame you’ve wasted it thus far, but that can be rectified… in time.”
My brow furrowed, genuinely confused at the shift. “What are you getting at?”
“I’m offering you an opportunity.” He steepled his fingers. “A future. One with far fewer consequences.”
I scoffed, “Let me guess. All I have to do is roll over and wag my tail for Queen Aurellene?”
“You’re not a dog,” he said, tone dry. “But dangerous things have a way of getting… put down. Unless, of course, they’re useful.”
“Useful,” I repeated. “You mean owned.”
“Semantics,” he said dismissively. “You’re not stupid, Remy. You know how this ends. What you’ve done… It’s over. There is nowhere left to run, and the noose is tied. You’ve done well to survive this long, but I am presenting you with the only option you have left, so don’t be a fool.”
“Let me get this straight.” I stood up, gritting my teeth as pain flared through my core. “You’re offering me a place in your court and using my record as leverage?”
“I’ll admit, I am as surprised as you are,” he added. “But the queen is willing to shield you from prosecution in exchange for your service and loyalty. Most would jump at the opportunity.”
“Wait, so” I took a step towards him, thighs throbbing with each movement. “...Queen Aurellene… who sat around for a whole week while Dent’s infection ran its course.” Another step. “The same Queen who named me childish for calling out her complete disregard for his life.” My hands hit the table, hard and with a jolt of searing agony. “That fucking queen, who ordered him killed the moment he was deemed a threat, by the very squad she sent to help us.” My gaze burned with fury. “That queen. Wants my loyalty?”
He didn’t answer, but I wasn’t done.
“Maybe my file didn’t spell it out, but I grew up watching people like her trample everyone who couldn’t offer them something, not because they had to, but because they could. Because it was easier than giving a fuck about anyone below their station.”
My voice dropped.
“I didn’t steal because I wanted to. I stole because their polished laws don’t feed street kids. I had no parents. No home. Just the promise of a slow death for being born into a society that kicks kids like me into the gutter… and calls our survival a crime.”
I met his eyes, steady.
“And now that I’m useful, you expect me to kneel to the same machine that has long since wanted to crush me under its heel, just for existing?”
I didn’t look away. “I. Would. Rather. Burn.”
That finally made him pause.
He studied me. Not afraid, but I could see the caution pull behind his eyes. “Perhaps you’ll get your wish then, but maybe another perspective would do you well… You understand, this doesn’t affect only you.”
I froze.
“Your companions are quite visible now, aren’t they?” He continued. “They’re already accomplices to your fraud, whether you meant them to be or not.” His brow raised. “And if you burn, will they not follow you into the flames?”
My blood ran cold. “I don’t think you understand how bad you just fucked up.”
“Oh?”
“Drag them into this, and I swear to the gods…” My voice came low and steady. “You’ll beg for death long before I’m finished carving regret into your bones.”
His expression didn’t change, just a faint twitch of his mouth, like a man watching a storm roll in. “There’s the fire I expected.” Then stood, smoothing the front of his robes. “I’ll give you time to think it over… Prison and capital punishment.” He paused for effect. “...Or purpose. It's up to you.”
His stride paused at the tent flap, looking back. “Truly, I am not your enemy, Remy. I’m offering you a way out… And I trust you’ll come to your senses before long.”
...
The afternoon dragged by in dull, restless agony. Sleep came in fits. Silence pressed in like gauze. Eventually, the stillness became unbearable. I peeled myself off the cot and dressed slowly, ignoring the sharp bites of pain that bloomed with every movement.
My legs felt like borrowed things. Hollow and stiff, barely responsive. But the potion was working, enough, anyway. Enough to walk.
So I did.
I stepped out of the medical tent like a half-finished ghost, the flap sighing shut behind me. The cool forest air hit my lungs like static, too sharp, too real. Light needled through the treetops, scattering across the camp in fractured colors. Bright, loud, and entirely too much. It hit like knives in my eyes.
But I kept walking. Slowly. One boot after the other, tracing familiar paths across the clearings of camp. My heartbeat thudded in my ears, louder than it should’ve been. Then I noticed it. People were stopping. One by one. The first were soldiers, but others began joining, all falling into stillness.
The first soldier froze when I passed. Then another turned to look, mouth half-open. A pair of scholars went still, scrolls in their hands like they'd forgotten what they were doing. I heard whispers. Low, and stunned, like seeing me was some kind of bad omen or miracle.
My steps slowed in recognition. By the time I crossed the halfway mark through the main circle, at least two dozen people had stopped in place. Staring without a word. Like I’d risen from a grave no one expected me to walk out of.
Then the silence cracked, not with a voice, but with rhythm. A single soldier slammed the butt of his spear into the dirt. Once. Twice. Another soldier followed. Then another. Boots stamped. Shields pounded in sync.
The rhythm spread through the camp like wildfire. A grounded thunder, wordless and primal. Celebration born from awe.
Then… it began, soft and from each person as I passed them, “Your Grace.” They said. Those two words. Not shouted, but spoken. Like a prayer. Like reverence given without realizing each syllable sent reverberations down my spine.
The first few rattled my brain. The next stopped me cold. I tried to keep walking, a weak attempt to outpace the onslaught of false admiration. But my vision tunneled, and my legs just… froze.
I couldn’t move. Could hardly breathe. The air caught in my throat like a stutter. The sound echoed too loud. My heart was racing, but the world had slowed, and somewhere beneath the thunder, I could still hear him.
Kael’s voice. Gasping. “...Your Grace.” The blood in my lap. The weight of him collapsing in my arms. His eyes snapping still with all the false hope that it might mean something.
It didn’t. I lied. I had nothing to offer, not for him, his family, or anyone except more lies. More death.
I reached for the closest thing I could find. A tent post, but my leg folded beneath me before I could brace against it. The other bent out, dropping me into a kneel.
Another spear slammed into the dirt, closer this time. The crowd surged in. Faces alight, beaming. Through the fog, I could tell they thought this was some kind of gesture. A bow. Humility. Reverence returned. But my hands started shaking against my chest.
Until finally someone kneeled down beside me. An old frame, but solid. A familiar, steady presence, smelling of leather and steel. A calloused hand rested gently on my shoulder. Warm and grounding.
“Easy,” Gregory said, low enough that no one else would hear. His voice was a slow drawl. “Breathe. You’re alright.” The chorus remained, but his words cut through from beside me.
I tried, but the air was choking. I couldn’t answer, so I leaned in, just slightly, and he didn’t pull away. “Shhh.” He whispered. “You're okay.” My chest stayed tight, but a single breath trembled loose from my lungs.
“Remy!” Another voice cut through the rhythm, sharper, urgent. Val pushed through the crowd like a blade. His eyes found mine as he dropped beside me, and something behind them cracked. “I’ve got her,” he said flatly.
Gregory nodded, stepping forward with practiced force. The crowd parted around him, still slamming in celebration as Val turned back to me, slower now, eyes searching mine. “Can you walk?”
I nodded. It was a lie. But I made the motion as he slid an arm beneath mine, anchoring it over his shoulder, and stood. I rose with him, mostly. My legs dragged a little, but I kept them under me.
To anyone watching, it probably looked like he was helping me walk through the strain of recovery. Gregory led. Val held steady. Neither of them spoke, and I didn’t look back. The crowd parted like I was some war-worn saint, not a girl who could barely stand under the weight of her own guilt.
They guided me forward, slow and deliberate, one hand at my back as if guarding royalty. All the while, the thunder of their celebration poured in around us, until eventually we cleared the main bunch and Gregory disappeared into the shifting ring of soldiers.
My breath returned enough for clarity to peek through. “Sorry,” I muttered.
“I knew better than to think you’d stay put all day,” Val said with a light chuckle. “Where were you headed, anyway?”
“Research tent,” I admitted, then added, “Eshlyn looks like death.”
“Yeah. She’s been working her ass off.” He sighed. “Things have been… different since we came out of that last fight.”
“No kidding.” I leaned into him more now. “What the hell was all that?”
“Rumors spread when you take control of a few hundred undead and fold space with a dying man in your arms.” His voice held something almost… admiring. “So much for laying low, ay.”
“Gods.” I winced, trying to laugh. “I’m so fucked.”
We neared the research canvas, where I expected to find Eshlyn, maybe Alexander, when Val set me down on an overturned crate. “Dagonbord said something to you, didn’t he?”
I looked away. “How’d you know?”
“Lucky guess.” He knelt in front of me. “Wanna tell me what happened?”
My posture sagged in surrender. “He’s got my record… ” I added, quieter, “It’s over.”
“Is it really that damning?”
I hesitated. “You want the truth?”
Val’s jaw tightened. “Mhmm.”
“I’m wanted for murder, Val… among other things.” I let that sink in, but he didn’t flinch. “And with the added treason… I’ll be executed for sure.”
“Damn.”
“If not, I’ll be put away for centuries.” My voice barely rose above a whisper. “That’s why I ran in the first place.”
“I won’t let them take you,” he said, solid, certain.
I let out a dry breath. “Don’t say that.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because… why would you say that?” I asked, genuinely confused. “You heard what I did.”
“Yeah,” Val said. “And I don’t fucking care.” He rested a firm hand on my thigh and met my eyes. “So you spent your whole life doing the wrong things for the right reasons… fine.”
I looked away.
“The tower’s never made space for people like you. People who don’t lie down, no matter who's asking. Who do what they have to and fight like hell to protect what they love.”
My chest tightened.
“And maybe you do deserve to be punished. But not by them. Not by cowards who’ve done worse and call it law.”
I met his gaze again, catching nothing but the stubborn, unwavering belief in his eyes.
“You’re a walking truth, Remy. Proof that their fucked-up system only serves itself. They want to make an example out of you because you’ll spit that truth back in their faces, better than anyone ever has.”
My voice was gone. I didn’t know if it was from guilt or the terrifying, impossible hope that maybe he was right.
“And for that?” He leaned in, voice quiet, solid. “I’ll fight until my last breath.”
My body moved before my mind could stop it. I reached out and wrapped my arms around him, breath gone, chest tight. I didn’t know if I was saying thank you… Or goodbye.
Val didn’t flinch. Didn’t speak. He just pulled me in like it was the most natural thing in the world. One arm around my back. One hand braced at the nape of my neck. Steady. Fierce.
I could’ve stayed there, could’ve let the weight of it all crush me against him, but I forced myself to pull back. Just enough.
“Val…” I shook my head, overwhelmed. “I can’t let you throw everything away for me. I’m sorry, but… You have to let me go.”
His brow furrowed, lips twitching like he wanted to argue. Instead, he said softly, “It’s like you don’t even know me.”
“Val…” I tried again, voice firm.
He didn’t flinch. “Rem.”
I exhaled, not quite a laugh, not quite a sob. “Can we not do this right now?”
He studied me for a beat. Then nodded. “Fine,” he said, squeezing my hand. “But this isn’t over.” Then stood, brushing his hands off against his trousers. “Go check on Esh. I’ll grab us something to eat.”
I nodded, unable to look him in the eye. “Thank you,” I said, quiet, just for him.
...
The flap of the research tent creaked as I stepped inside. The light was dimmer here, filtered through soot-smudged canvas and a forest of paper. The smell of ink and old parchment lay thick in the stagnant air.
Eshlyn was here, of course. Alone and slumped at the low table, one arm curled protectively around a scrawled notebook, her other hand still resting near a viewing-scope. Beneath it lay a stained slide of dark and dried blood. Her cheek was pressed into her forearm, hair tangled and unwashed, strands caught in a wax pool of a half-burnt candle. For how pristine Eshlyn always kept herself, this looked like rock bottom.
I didn’t say anything. Just stood there a moment, taking in the debris of her desperation, open books, vials crusted over, notes circled and annotated with layers of ink.
There was a thin brown blanket folded over the back of a nearby cot. It smelled like dust and herbs, but it was better than nothing. So I draped it across her shoulders slowly, careful as I could be, not to wake her.
She didn’t stir.
For a breath, I just stood there. Watching the rise and fall of someone who hadn’t stopped fighting. Then I sat, not on the cot or a chair. Just on the floor beside her, cross-legged, arms loose in my lap.
A long beat passed before eventually her shoulders twitched under the blanket, and a soft sound escaped her throat, not quite a word, not quite a groan. Her fingers flexed over the stained page as if she were going to continue working even while asleep.
“Esh,” I whispered, gently squeezing her palm. “Hey…”
Her eyes cracked open, dazed and unfocused. She blinked against the low light, breath hitching like she wasn’t sure where she was.
“You’re okay,” I said softly. “It’s just me.”
“Remy?” Her voice was hoarse as she tried to sit up, slow and groggy. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting in medical?”
“Yeah,” I murmured. “But I wanted to check on you.” I interlaced our fingers, steadying her.
She looked down, still disoriented, then frowned at the notes beneath her. “Shit. I fell asleep again.”
“Yeah.” A faint smile touched my lips. “Seems like you could use some more.”
Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, searching. “You’re not even supposed to be out of bed.”
“Don’t worry. I only feel like I got hit by a collapsing cathedral.” I shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”
That pulled a huff from her, breathy, tired, but real. She shifted to face me as I pulled myself into a kneeling position. “Seems like you haven’t eaten,” I added, taking her other hand. “Val’s on his way with food.”
“That’s kind of him,” she muttered.
“It was my idea, but… agreed.” I teased gently.
Another soft laugh escaped her as she wiped the sleep from her eyes. “I missed you, Remy.”
I pulled her in close. “I missed you, too.”
Finally, her shoulders slumped, head resting against my shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Rem,” she whispered. “I’ve tried everything. Every iteration. I’m not… ” Her voice caught. “It’s not enough.”
“It’s okay, Esh,” I said, quiet but steady. “You’ve done more than anyone else could have.”
“That doesn’t save him.” Her arms wrapped around my sides. “I can’t save him.”
“Shhh,” I whispered against her temple. “I know. Just breathe.”
Her arms didn’t let go, and I didn’t pull away. Eshlyn’s head leaned like stone against my shoulder, as I shifted to draw the blanket up high around both of us, tucking us in against the rugs and legs of the table.
We just sat there, tangled in silence, sharing breath and warmth. Air heavy with everything we couldn’t fix but didn’t need to say out loud. For a moment, there was no parasite. No court. No war. Just the smell of paper, dried tea, and her warmth pressed against mine.
Then the canvas rustled at the entrance. Val ducked inside, a bowl in each hand and a third balanced precariously on his forearm, almost impressively. He didn’t comment on how we looked or how close we were sitting, just set the bowls down on the floor and sank cross-legged beside us with a sigh. “Gods,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’d think a war camp wouldn’t run out of good utensils.”
Eshyn gave him a tired smile. “You’re a saint.”
“Don’t tell anyone. Ruins my image.”
“Thank you, Val,” Eshlyn said, grabbing the closest bowl. “And Remy, for the idea.”
“Wow, took credit for that, did ya?” He smirked, taking the other bowl and leaving the final one for me. A thick stew of rice, beans, and various herbs.
I winced against a chuckle. “I’ll concede to calling it a group effort.”
“Naw, you can have this one… Use it to get in good with Esh here.”
Eshlyn smiled, tired but real. “Oh shut up.”
A beat of casual banter came and went. Wooden spoons, scraped bowls. It was warm, but comfort was a luxury, and time was running out.
“There’s something we need to talk about,” I said, wishing I could sound less serious.
Eshlyn glanced over her bowl, spoon pausing mid-air. Val didn’t look up, but I saw the subtle shift in his shoulders.
I stirred the stew without lifting it. “We’re out of time. I can tell the suppressant Dent took is already losing ground, if not gone completely.”
“I know.” Eshlyn’s voice was quiet. Resigned. “But I’ve tried every combination I can think of… Nothing’s working. The first time we treated him was the most successful it's ever been, and now it’s just… too adaptive to stick. Buying time at this point would be a matter of hours.”
She took another slow bite as I nodded, letting the silence stretch a while. Val’s spoon scraped the bottom of his bowl with a little too much force.
“The way I see it, it’s time we look towards other means,” I said finally. “...Someone else who may give us options, even if they’re grim.”
Eshlyn looked up at me, tired eyes sharp with curiosity, and a hint of dread. “You mean… him.”
Val muttered something under his breath.
“Yeah. If anyone can help us now, it’s Lawrence.”
The name alone drew the air tighter around us. Val let out a scoff and jabbed his spoon into a stubborn bit of rice. “Honestly, I wouldn’t trust that snake anywhere near Dent. And what makes you think he can help anyway?”
“He’s not exactly my top pick either,” I admitted, meeting Val’s eyes. “But I know he can help, and since a cure is out of reach…” My eyes drifted to Eshlyns. ”It’s all we have left.”
“I hate how he looks at you, like he’s got an agenda too deep to read,” Val muttered. “And there’s no way he’s doing it for free.”
“I get that,” I said. “But I also know what happens if we do nothing.”
Eshlyn didn’t speak right away. Her gaze had dropped to the folds of her blanket, her half-finished stew growing cold in her lap. She twisted the spoon between her fingers. “He didn’t want me saying anything but, when I spoke to Dent earlier… ” she said, finally. “He accepted a cure was unlikely, like he’d given up. Didn’t seem to care as long as you were alright.” Her eyes met mine as I pushed down the guilt. The rage. The part of me that didn’t know what to do with that kind of love.
“Then it’s decided. We need Lawrence’s help,” I said gently. “Even if we hate it. Even if it costs.”
“It will,” Val said. “It always does with men like that.”
“I know.” I looked between them. “But I’m willing to pay it. And if he seems to like me in some way, then I can use that to my advantage… I’ll deal with him personally.”
Eshlyn squeezed my hand again, and after a long breath, she nodded once. “We’ll be there to back you up.”
“Great,” Val muttered, dragging his hand down his face. “Guess I’ll go sharpen my swords.” Then met my gaze. “But there’s something you haven’t considered… What if Dent refuses?”
“I’ll convince him,” I said, voice firm. “Whatever it takes. I’m not letting him give up.”
A brief beat of silence passed again, and Eshlyn leaned her head back against the table leg behind her. “Just promise me,” she said. “I doubt he’ll do anything… crazy… but if it starts to go bad, if he tries anything, we shut it down.”
“We will,” I said. “But we’re not going to let Dent die because of pride.”
“I’m not going to cower at this guy. If he tries some bullshit, I’ll call him on it.” Val said, voice even.
“Perfect.” I extended a fist between them. “Then here’s to us… Team Bad Ideas?”
Eshlyn raised an eyebrow but bumped her knuckles to mine. “More like team, No Other Options.”
Val rolled his eyes, groaning like he was already regretting this, then tapped both our hands. “Team Bad Ideas, and No Other Options… guess that’s fitting.”
“Hell yeah,” I muttered, a light smile tugging at my lips. “May the gods quiver.”
They repeated as if it were a corny salute, “May the gods quiver.”