We left The Widow somewhere between midnight and dawn, that strange time where even the rats take a break. The tide was shifting. The sun wouldn’t be far behind. And if we didn’t hustle, the ship would leave without us.

The air felt sharp and cool, but that was just the Dewstone beads doing their job. I wasn’t tired. Not even close. I was wired, my mind spinning, my heart racing, my body lit up like magic. I hadn’t felt like this since I was a kid waiting for Father to return from one of his so-called “trips.” Hope with a side of panic.

The moment the house came into view, I took off like I was launched from a catapult.

The two elves followed at a respectable pace, calm, composed, and not at all like people who were breaking into someone’s house with a sword heist plan.

“Mother!” I shouted as I burst into the sitting room.

I made a beeline for the fireplace, grabbing the sword from its mount like I’d been planning this my whole life.

The weight hit differently than I expected. I staggered a little. It was embarrassing, really. My fingers curled around the hilt. It was meant for a single hand, but it barely fit mine. I’d stared at this blade for years, but I’d never touched it. Father said it wasn’t for me.

Well, guess what, Father? It is now.

And I hated how wrong it felt.

“Child!” Mother’s voice came sharp from the upstairs hall. “By the Gods, what are you doing?”

I turned, panting. “These two…” I gestured wildly. “They work for Father.”

She appeared at the top of the stairs, tying her robe like she was preparing for battle. Her eyes landed on the elves and narrowed instantly.

The tall one stepped forward, all calm confidence and diplomatic cheekbones. “I am Vaeril Oribella. This is Dain Sarrora.”

Mother gave them her hand with a look that said she’d prefer a dagger, but she still offered it. She also gave me one of her patented disapproving smiles. It was the one that said I was ten seconds from being grounded, never mind that I was nineteen and halfway to becoming a pirate.

From upstairs, Clara called out, “Mother?”

“Tea for our guests,” she said without missing a beat.

“Not necessary,” Vaeril said with a polite dip of the head.

“We need to leave with the tide,” Dain added, arms folded like someone trying not to punch a clock.

“They need Father’s sword,” I said, still catching my breath.

Mother’s arms crossed like the gates of a fortress. “Then they can’t have it.”

The room froze. Clara stopped mid-step on the stairs. The elves glanced at each other like they’d stepped in it.

Dain tried, bless him. “Uh… Countess—”

“Not a Countess. He’s no Count,” she snapped. “Explain yourselves. Now. Or I summon the watch.”

Dain, wisely, bowed. “Yes, madam. We serve your husband. Which makes us your servants as well.”

Vaeril followed up, diplomatic to the bitter end. “He left the sword here. He didn’t tell us why he needs it now. He only tasked us with retrieving it.”

I clutched the hilt. “Where is he?”

“Across the Peaceful Sea,” Dain said. “Five days by ship. Then five more through Mithaloné Thaeril.”

The name clicked. “The Jade Twilight.”

Dain nodded. “He’s on the Tenebrylith River. Even the best guides struggle to get there.”

“Why’s he there?”

“Searching for your family’s fortune,” Vaeril said. “There are dungeons in the Red Gem Cliffs. He’s reached an impasse. The sword is the key.”

“Of course it is,” I muttered.

“He didn’t tell us how. Just that we had to retrieve it.”

The air in the room turned heavy. Clara stood frozen. Mother looked like she was going to breathe fire. The elves? They looked increasingly uncomfortable.

Mother’s voice came out cold and clear. “We need to discuss this. Privately. Before anyone walks off with the last thing of value we have left.”

Then Clara piped up, bless her naïve, bold little heart. “Do you have gold?”

Silence.

All eyes snapped to her.

“I mean…” she added, shrinking a bit. “We’re struggling. If Father really wanted the sword, wouldn’t he… send something?”

Mother nodded. “Or at least enough to buy it back.”

The elves glanced at each other. It was a look people get right before they remember they forgot to bribe the gatekeeper.

Vaeril reached into his pack and produced five fat pouches.

“He gave us a little,” he said, handing them over.

Mother weighed them, bouncing each one. Her face didn’t change, but I knew that expression.

“Five hundred,” Dain added.

Mother set them on the table gently. Reverently.

“That’s more than we’ve had in years,” she said softly.

Then she looked at me.

I knew that look, too.

The sword was going.

The house would stay upright a little longer.

And Clara’s dowry? Finally had a fighting chance.

But was it a lifeline… or just more rope?

Was it the start of something real? A gift from Father, somehow? A way out?

Or…

Was it nothing at all?

Because if it wasn’t…

We were just selling the last piece of him we had for one more month of lies.

Something tugged at me. It pulled, like a Travin’s obscene finger, and felt awash in something. Shame? Defeat? The grimworms that I had fought for years were burrowing, eating at the fear in my mind that I had always managed to fight off with a stupid little girl fantasy. That sword. It meant something, I didn’t understand what, but it did.

“No.”

Mother’s head snapped toward me like I’d just declared war on reason. “Jolana.”

Her grip on the gold tightened.

“Give them the sword.”

I turned to the elves. “Ten days to reach him?”

Dain hesitated. “Yes?”

“And ten days back?”

Vaeril frowned. “Roughly. But it’s not exactly a pleasure cruise.”

Mother stepped forward, her robe billowing like she was about to put me in a headlock. “Daughter…”

“I need to see him.” My voice cracked, but my fingers stayed white-knuckled on the hilt.

“There’s enough gold to keep Cypress from breathing down your neck while I’m gone. I’ll be back in under a month.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“I know.”

Gods help me, I knew.

“If he needs the sword, maybe he needs me, too.”

Mother’s expression turned glacial. That smile she wore like armor? Gone. Not even a flicker left.

Never a good sign.

“This is not going to happen,” she said, slow and lethal. “You need to think rationally.”

“Rationally?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Do you even know what that means anymore?”

“You can’t just leave.”

“Watch me.”

My gaze flicked to Clara. “I’ve given up my life for you,” I snapped.

Then I turned on Mother. “And for you.”

Clara flinched. “Jolana—”

But I wasn’t done. Gods, I was just getting started.

“My life ended the day he left. You two kept going. I’ve been stuck, bleeding in place while you prayed for a miracle. Well, here’s the miracle, and guess what? I’m not staying to waste it.”

My breath hitched.

“I have nothing. I will always have nothing.”

The sword trembled in my hands. Not from fear.

From rage.

I turned to Clara; my voice was like a blade drawn from a sheath. “You want to be the whore?”

She stumbled back, eyes wide.

“Because that’s what Cypress has in mind for both of us.”

Mother gasped. “Jolana!”

“How about you, Mother?” I hissed. “You want to sit in this dusty house another ten years while we rot?”

“Please,” she whispered, like that word ever changed anything. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t what?” I barked. “Don’t grow a spine? Don’t finally make a move before we starve or sell Clara to some merchant’s idiot son?”

“Let’s all take a breath,” Dain said, stepping between us like some half-baked peacekeeper. “We all want the same thing here.”

“Oh yeah?” I shot back. “And what exactly do you want?”

“That sword,” he said, deadpan. “As ordered by your father.”

Vaeril jumped in, smoother than oil on silk. “And for you and yours to be taken care of. Which, for what it’s worth, is also what your father wants.”

I stared at them both, my jaw clenched so tight it ached.

“I need to see him,” I said. “If he’s doing as well as you claim, I’ll come back with enough gold to bury The Debt and every man who ever tried to profit from it.”

Vaeril smirked. “That’s the spirit.”

Dain shot him a look. “She’s not a courier, Vaeril.”

“She’s his daughter. She gets to decide.”

“Fine,” Dain relented with a sigh. “He won’t be thrilled we dragged you halfway across the world, but the moment he sees you? He’ll get over it.”

“Then let’s go,” I said, spinning toward the door. “If I’m going to do this, I’m doing it now.”

Vaeril nodded. “If you’ve got business to settle, best get to it.”

I turned back to Mother.

“Mother…”

She looked at me, and I saw it: the fight draining out of her. That look she gave when she was already mourning something.

Her arms opened like she was going to hug me.

I exhaled. “The bag, Mother.”

The flush of shame on her face hit me harder than a slap.

But she handed it over.

Gods, real gold is heavy.

“Clara!” I barked. “Knapsack. Two more bags from the closet.”

She bolted upstairs, and I turned toward the elves.

“You two,” I said. “Do either of you have a plan that doesn’t involve me dying in the jungle?”

Dain grinned. “We don’t even have a plan for breakfast.”

Clara reappeared, breathless, carrying two small cloth pouches. She dropped them onto the table, eyes wide with fear, and something else. Hope?

“I got you some clothes,” she gasped. “Just what you had drying on the line in your room.”

I grabbed two fistfuls of coins and shoved them into each pouch.

“You need to change,” she said, tugging at my arm.

“No time,” Dain called. “We need to be gone before the tide.”

I slung the knapsack over my shoulder, sword in hand, sweat already breaking across my neck.

“Stay safe,” Clara whispered, and I couldn’t tell if it was a blessing or a goodbye.

I didn’t answer.

I didn’t dare.

Because if I did, I might not walk out that door.

So I turned.

And I ran.