Chapter Text
The Decision
The intricate carpet muffles footsteps along the wide, high-arched hallway as she stands with Bodhi, Imogen, Ebony, and Sawyer—Whoa. The sweeping, polished double staircases with their detailed banisters rise three—no, four—more floors above her.
Rowena shifts her stance, arms loosely crossed as she watches Violet stride through the main hall of the house. The younger woman’s steps are quick, purposeful, but there’s hesitation in the way her gaze darts around the space, taking in the fortress’s grandeur. Rowena doesn’t miss the way Violet’s shoulders stiffen slightly when she picks up the sound of voices from a room across the way, where one of two large, ornate doors is pitched open. As Violet draws closer, Rowena tracks her movements carefully, noting the moment her expression changes—recognition flickering in her eyes as Brennan’s deep voice carries through the hall. Rowena’s sharp gaze narrows as she watches the moment unfold, reading Violet’s reaction as much as she’s reading the conversation beyond the doorway.
Inside, standing in front of the massive map, one arm leaning against a massive chair as he stares down the table at its occupants, is Xaden. And beside him, as always, is Garrick—his right-hand man. Garrick stands at ease, arms crossed over his chest, his sharp gaze sweeping over those seated at the table, missing nothing.
Rowena’s eyes lock on Garrick, her posture tensing. Sawyer exchanges a glance with her, their silent understanding clear. They know where Garrick’s loyalties lie—have always known. The three of them are bound together not just by trust, but by their dragons. Still, the weight of what he has kept from them lingers in Rowena’s mind, not as betrayal, but as a question left unanswered.
“Returning is the only option,” Hawk Nose continues. “Not doing so risks everything we’re building here. Search patrols will come, and we don’t have enough riders—”
“It’s a little hard to recruit while trying to stay undetectable,” a petite woman with glossy black hair like a raven counters, the umber skin at the corners of her eyes crinkling as she glares down the table at the older man.
“Let’s not get off topic, Trissa,” Brennan says, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“No point increasing our numbers without a working forge to arm them with weapons.” Hawk Nose’s voice rises above the others. “We’re still short a luminary, if you haven’t noticed.”
“And where are we in negotiations with Viscount Tecarus for his?” a large man asks in a calm, rumbling voice, his ebony hand tugging at his thick silver beard.
Viscount Tecarus? That isn’t a noble family in any Navarrian records. Navarre doesn’t even have viscounts.
“Still working on a diplomatic solution,” Brennan answers.
“There’s no solution. Tecarus isn’t over the insult you delivered last summer.” An older woman built like a battle-ax locks her gaze on Xaden, her blond hair brushing just past her square alabaster chin.
“I told you, the viscount was never going to give it to us in the first place,” Xaden replies. “The man only collects things. He does not trade them.”
“Well, he’s definitely not going to trade with us now,” she retorts, her gaze narrowing. “Especially if you won’t even contemplate his latest offer.”
“He can fuck right off with his offer.” Xaden’s voice is calm, but his eyes have a hard edge that dares anyone at the table to disagree. As if showing these people they aren’t worth his time, he steps around the arm of the massive chair facing them and settles into it, stretching his long legs and resting his arms on the velvet armrests—like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
The quiet that falls on the room is telling. Xaden commands as much respect from the Assembly of this revolution as he does at Basgiath. The only other familiar rider besides Brennan is Bodhi, but there’s no question that Xaden is the most powerful in the room, given their silence.
“There had better be a solution. If we can’t supply the drifts with enough weaponry to really fight in the next year, the tide will shift too far to ever hope of holding the venin advance at bay,” Silver Beard notes. “This all will have been for nothing.”
Rowena’s stomach clenches. A year? They’re that close to losing a war she barely knew existed?
“As I said, I’m working on a diplomatic solution for the luminary,” Brennan’s tone sharpens, “and we’re so wildly off topic I’m not sure this is the same meeting.”
“I vote we take Basgiath’s luminary,” Battle-Ax suggests. “If we’re that close to losing this war, there’s no other option.”
Xaden shoots Brennan a look.
“We’ve been over that,” Brennan says with finality. “If we take Basgiath’s forging device, Navarre can’t replenish their stores at the outposts. Countless civilians will die if those wards fall. Do any of you want to be responsible for that?” Silence reigns.
“Then we agree,” Hawk Nose says. “Until we can supply the drifts, the cadets have to return.”
“They’re talking about us,” Violet whispers. That’s why they’re standing out of direct sight.
Bodhi nods.
“You’re uncharacteristically quiet, Suri,” Brennan notes, glancing at the wide-shouldered brunette with olive skin and a single streak of silver in her hair, her nose twitching like a fox, sitting next to him.
“I say we send all but the three.” Her nonchalance skates a chill down Rowena’s spine as she drums her bony fingers on the table, a giant emerald ring catching the light. “Six cadets can lie as well as ten.”
Ten.
Xaden, Garrick, Bodhi, Imogen, Ebony, two marked ones Rowena hadn’t gotten a chance to know before they were thrown into battle, Sawyer, Violet, and herself.
Her throat tightens, but she doesn’t let it show. Soleil and Liam didn’t survive.
Liam. Blond hair and sky-blue eyes flash through her memory, and pain erupts behind her ribs. His boisterous laugh. His quick smile. His loyalty and kindness. It’s all gone. He’s gone.
All because he promised Xaden he’d guard Violet.
“None of the ten are expendable, Suri.” Silver Beard leans on the back two legs of his chair and examines the map behind Xaden.
“What do you propose, Felix?” Suri counters. “Running our own war college with all our spare time? Most of them haven’t finished their education. They’re of no use to us yet.”
“As if any of you has a say in if we return,” Xaden interrupts, earning everyone’s attention. “We will take the advice of the Assembly, but it will be taken as only that—advice.”
“We cannot afford to risk your life—” Suri argues.
“My life is equal to any of theirs.” Xaden gestures toward them.
Brennan’s gaze meets Violet’s, then widens.
Each head in the room turns toward them.
“Not every life,” Suri says as she looks straight at Rowena, then shifts her gaze slightly. “Or hers.”
Rowena holds her ground as the weight of Suri’s words settle. Beside her, Violet stiffens.
“How could you have stood there and let them overhear the conversation of the Assembly?” Suri demands.
“If you didn’t want them to hear, you should have closed the door,” Bodhi responds, stepping into the room.
“They cannot be trusted!”
Rowena lifts her chin, eyes flashing. “She is standing right here,” she snaps.
Violet steps forward beside her, shoulders squared. “And so am I.”
“What do you want from us?” Rowena and Violet demand in unison as they stride into the room, their voices sharp and unwavering.
“Want us to walk the Parapet and prove our bravery? Done,” Rowena continues, her eyes flashing.
“Want me to betray my kingdom by defending Poromish citizens? Done,” Violet adds, stepping forward.
“Want us to keep their secrets?” Rowena gestures toward Xaden and Garrick with a flick of her hand.
“Done,” Violet finishes, her voice tight. “I kept every single one.”
“Except the one that mattered,” Suri counters, lifting an eyebrow as she fixes Violet with a piercing stare. “We all know how you ended up in Athebyne.”
Guilt clogs Violet’s throat.
“That was not—” Xaden starts, his voice edged with warning as he rises from his chair.
“Through no fault of her own,” the man nearest them with the gray beard—Felix—says, standing and stepping between Suri and Violet. “No first-year could withstand a memory reader, especially one considered a friend.”
He pivots to face Violet directly, his tone softening slightly. “But you have to know that you have enemies at Basgiath now. Should you return, Aetos will not be among your friends. He will do everything he can to kill you for what you’ve seen.”
“I know.” The words are thick on Violet’s tongue.
Beside her, Rowena glances between them, her expression unreadable, but when she lifts her chin, the message is clear—she will stand by Violet, no matter the cost.
Felix nods.
“We are done here,” Xaden announces, his gaze locking onto Suri’s and then Hawk Nose’s, their shoulders drooping in quiet defeat.
As the meeting disperses, Rowena wastes no time slipping out of the hall. The tension in her shoulders doesn’t ease, not even when she steps into the cool night air where the dragons rest beyond the fortress. The scent of charred wood and the crisp mountain air mingles as she strides forward, seeking a moment away from the Assembly’s scrutiny.
Sawyer is already there, arms crossed as he leans against a boulder, his sharp gaze flicking to her before returning to Garrick, who stands nearby with a rigid posture. The three of them have danced around each other for days, if not longer, the weight of divided loyalties and unspoken words pressing heavier than the war itself.
“You were quiet in there,” Sawyer remarks, his voice low but edged with something unreadable.
“I was listening,” Rowena replies smoothly, tilting her head. “Unlike some.”
Garrick exhales sharply, a hint of amusement in his otherwise unreadable expression. “And what exactly did you hear?”
“That you and Xaden still think you can control the outcome of all this,” Rowena says, stepping closer, her voice sharper now. “That you expect us to just fall in line.”
Garrick doesn’t deny it. He simply watches her, calculating as always. “And will you?”
Rowena shakes her head, exhaling through her nose. “That’s not the point, Garrick.”
Sawyer shifts, his fingers twitching at his sides, ready to intervene if things escalate. But Rowena isn’t looking for a fight—at least not yet. She’s looking for answers.
“You should have told us,” she finally says, her voice quieter. “Me and Sawyer—we deserved to know.”
Garrick inclines his head slightly. “It wasn’t about trust, Ro. It was about necessity.”
A beat passes between them before Sawyer sighs, breaking the moment. “Enough posturing. We need to be ready to move at first light.”
Rowena nods, exhaling slowly. She trusts Garrick with her life—that has never been in question. But as she glances at him one last time, she wonders how many more secrets he’s carrying, and how long it will take before she learns them all.
She’ll be watching.