The hall outside my quarters was quiet, lit only by the pale glow of dusk-glass sconces and the last light filtering through Solspire's towers. I had just begun coaxing the fused skin between the gauntlet and my wrist when I heard the knock.

Three taps. Spaced. Deliberate.

I didn't call out. Just opened the door as I readied my spell.

Vaelen Nirell stood in the corridor. I let the particles disperse. He wore travel-dark robes with silver-threaded cuffs. He didn't look like he'd come from the Hall of Mirrors. He looked like he'd been waiting.

"May I?" he asked as he stepped inside.

I shut the door behind him.

He walked halfway across the room, hands clasped behind his back, gaze drifting over the old maps nailed above the hearth and the stripped-down workbench near the window. It had been years, but nothing here had changed. Not really.

Vaelen stepped closer. "You've stirred the pot, Theren," he said without turning. "The moment you stepped across that bridge, the balance shifted. The question now is whether you intend to tip it or just survive inside it."

"I haven't decided." He was probing again. I answered with the same hollow smile. Vaelen gave a soft hum, the kind that said he already knew otherwise. Then he turned to face me.

"There's blood in the water. Everyone smells it. The Emperor's summons confirms what most already feared. His time is nearly done. Which makes you a wild variable." He let the word hang. "People don't like variables."

"I'm aware."

He stepped closer. "Your father is planning something, I can tell. I know you also want to get rid of him. How about we work together again? Like old times."

He studied my face, searching for tells I'd learned not to give.

"You're proposing treason," I said quietly.

His smile confirmed what we both knew I'd already decided.

He glanced down at my burn-scarred arm. "So that's what kept you away all this time."

"Is that all?" I asked, then immediately regretted the sharpness in my voice when I saw his knowing smile.

Vaelen's gaze lingered before continuing. "Let's see who is left standing at the end."

He opened the door and walked away.

That was a stressful encounter I was not prepared for, but all that was left after he was gone was the faint hum of the gauntlet fused to my right hand. The rest of my body was untouched, shielded by the flame-resistant cloth that had saved me that day. My hand still ached constantly, but I'd learned to use that pain as fuel. If I was going to suffer for what happened, at least I could make it count for something.

I stared at my palm, the refined Auris crystal pulsing softly beneath the metal. I couldn't tell where my flesh ended and the metal began.

I was still thinking about our conversation when it hit me, that memory I tried to avoid. The heat, unbelievable heat. Hydrogen igniting with that sharp pop, white flames edged in blue. I should have died, but instead…

The memory faded, leaving me with that familiar mix of rage and determination. They'd made me into an outcast once. Not again.

I lay on my bed, closed my eyes, and let the silence fill the room.

---

After spending the morning plotting how to fake particle stability, I walked toward the west wing's quiet halls, where I'd always found clarity. That's when I saw Lazien Dravoryn, my older brother. Second born.

He stood near the old sundial, hands clasped behind his back. He didn't turn when I approached.

"I figured you'd be here," he said quietly. "You always liked the west wing at midday. Said the light helped you think."

"I still do," I replied. "Surprised you remember." Lazien always did look conflicted about how my father treated me, even before the incident.

He gave a faint smile but didn't hold it.

We stood there for a few seconds, letting the quiet speak.

"I don't have long," he said. "I came from Father's side. Arren was there too."

That made me pause.

"He was angry. You know how he gets when things slip."

"What did he say?"

"In the Obsidian Spire. The House of Theryn asked why our delegation was smaller than expected. Why only Arren, Father, and myself. They expected more."

"And?"

"And Arren said, 'Some names are better left quiet.' He didn't say yours. But he meant it. Everyone knows how thin that line is."

I said nothing. But it looks like my hot-headed brother is unintentionally helping me.

Lazien finally looked at me, expression unreadable.

"I thought you should know. The others might not see it yet, but the questions are already starting."

That's exactly what I need. If I can get another house's support, I'll claim the power they denied me.

"And you?"

"I know what happens when we stay silent."

He hesitated. Still carrying guilt, like I remembered.

"I didn't agree with what they did to you. But I didn't stop it either."

His voice was soft now. Measured.

"I'm telling you this because silence didn't help last time. And it won't help now."

He stepped back, already moving toward the stairwell.

"Watch the walls, Theren. They're listening, even if the nobles pretend not to."

I owe him for this.

I stayed in the sunlit quiet a moment longer, letting the warmth settle the last of my doubts.

I left the warmth behind and turned toward my old study.

This time, I'm not just watching. I'm making my mark.