The suite’s sitting room was larger than most apartnts in Berian. Marble floors, silk curtains, a fireplace that had been lit despite the mild evening.
The kind of luxury that had once felt foreign to , back when it was just my first day in this world.
Now it just felt like ho.
The family stood frozen in the doorway, still processing my presence. Aldric had his hand half-extended toward the shadow at his feet, not instinct, I realized, but readiness.
The blade was already there, waiting.
Beside him, Elara’s posture had shifted almost imperceptibly, her weight balanced, her right hand positioned where a weapon would be if she needed one. She wasn’t hiding behind her husband.
She was positioned to move past him.
And Finn, the boy who had been pressing his nose against train windows just hours ago, had gone very still. His eyes tracked the way soone twice his age would track a threat.
All three had gotten used to their [Endless Fangs].
Marise was the only one who looked like she belonged in a story. The only one who hadn’t imdiately calculated the distance to the exits.
And soone I didn’t recognize.
"Relax," I said. "Is this really how you’d greet your savior?"
Aldric’s hand didn’t move from where it hovered near the shadow.
"Lord Arden, is that you?" he said.
"Who else, don’t tell you don’t recognize ? I haven’t changed that much, did I?"
Aldric’s hand finally dropped from the shadow at his feet, though I could still feel the blade waiting there, patient and ready.
"You’re younger than I rember," he said.
"Everyone gets older."
"You look like you’ve gotten younger, my lord."
I pushed off from the window and crossed the sitting room, my footsteps muffled by a carpet so thick it felt like walking on moss. The family watched approach, and I watched them back.
Aldric had aged well. The scar through his eye had faded from angry red to pale silver, and the haunted look that had defined him back in the Cold Iron District had settled into sothing steadier.
Elara was mostly the sa, although I expect that she’s more dangerous now than before.
Finn had grown. He’d been small when I last saw him, clinging to his mother’s rags. Now he stood with his shoulders back and his chin raised, trying very hard to look like he wasn’t intimidated.
Then Marise.
She was the only one I didn’t recognize, though Evelina had already told their nas when she visited the district before.
"You must be the daughter," I said.
She stepped forward, past her father, past her mother, until she stood directly in front of . Her hands were clasped in front of her.
"Marise," she said. "My na is Marise."
"Marise." I tilted my head, studying her. "Your father ntioned you wanted to et ."
She nodded, her clasped hands tightening.
"I’ve heard about you my whole life. From my parents. From the others in the district. From everyone who was there that night." She paused, searching for words. "I wanted to see for myself."
"See what?"
"If you were real."
Aldric shifted behind her, his hand twitching toward his side, but Elara caught his wrist and held it still. Her face gave nothing away.
I looked at Marise. The braided hair, the calluses on her palms that spoke of work, not leisure. She didn’t look like she was suited for the capital.
But her eyes were steady at least.
"Am I?" I asked jokingly.
"Real?" She considered the question longer than I expected. "Yes, not what I expected. But yes!"
"What did you expect?"
"Soone older, I guess. Soone who looked like they’d seen... everything you’ve seen."
Her gaze flickered to my face, then away.
"You look younger than I expected..."
"I’m twenty-two."
"That young!?"
Behind her, Finn let out a small, impatient sound.
"Can we sit down now?" he asked. "My legs are tired."
The tension broke.
Elara laughed first, a surprised sound that seed to startle even her. Aldric’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, and Finn took the opportunity to dart past everyone and launch himself onto the nearest sofa.
Marise stepped back, her hands finally unclasping.
I took a seat across from Finn, who had already made himself comfortable, kicking off his shoes and curling into the cushions like a cat claiming a sunbeam.
Aldric and Elara settled onto the larger sofa, close enough that their shoulders touched, a quiet intimacy born of years.
Marise remained standing.
"So..." I said. "I’m sure all of you are wondering why I’m here. But I’m also sure you want to enjoy the city before the ball, so I’ll make it quick. I expect all three of you to keep an eye on things. If anyone looks suspicious, they die. Got it?"
"Were you expecting us to co?" Aldric asked.
I waved the question away. I wasn’t that many steps ahead. I wasn’t Evelina.
"No," I said. "But since you did, I figured I might as well give you a mission."
[Endless Fang]
I drew another copy of my sword and tossed it to Marise; to my surprise, she caught it easily without so much as a scratch.
"Since you’re part of their family now, that’s your copy."
Marise turned the blade over in her hands, her reflection shifting across its dark surface. Unlike her father’s well-worn weapon, this one was pristine, newly summoned, freshly edged, waiting for its first real test.
"It’s lighter than I expected," she said.
"Don’t let that fool you."
She tested the balance, shifting her grip, and I watched her hands. Callused, yes, but not the calluses of a laborer.
These were the calluses of soone who had spent hours learning to hold sothing much smaller than a sword.
A knife, maybe. Or sothing that fits in the palm.
"You’ve trained," I said.
Her eyes t mine, and for a mont, the eager young woman who wanted to attend the imperial ball vanished.
"My father made sure I could protect myself," she said simply.
"Good," I said. "Because the capital isn’t the Cold Iron District. The threats here are different. Nobles don’t attack with knives in alleyways. They smile at you while they poison your wine, fun isn’t it?"
Marise lowered the blade, though she didn’t release it. "What exactly are we watching for?"
"Anyone who looks at Lady D’Arclight the wrong way." I paused. "Anyone who looks at the wrong way. Anyone who looks at the other attendees the wrong way. The ball is supposed to be a celebration. But celebrations are when people let their guards down."
Aldric leaned forward. "You’re expecting an attack."
"I’m expecting the unexpected." I shrugged. "It’s served well so far."
From the corner of my eye, I saw Finn’s hand slip beneath his cushion. When it erged, it was holding a blade.
His own [Endless Fang].
Smaller than the others, sized for soone who hadn’t finished growing, but unmistakably real.
I looked at Aldric.
He t my gaze without flinching. "Guess he doesn’t want his sister to overshadow him."
"Clearly."
I stand up, brushing off my hands.
"Also, Marise, let’s talk outside. There’s sothing I need to tell you in case you run into Evelina."
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