“Take her with you" Vexan's voice pitched sharply.
Ethan buckled his sword belt with casual defiance. “She calms me."
“You're entering a council war table, not a sickbed."
“Exactly," Ethan muttered. “Which means someone will say something stupid."
He opened the door.
Xiluo stood waiting, dressed in charcoal-gray robes without embroidery. She wore no jewelry, no shoes. Only the faint scar at her throat marked her apart.
Vexan stepped between them. “Your Highness—"
Ethan's eyes narrowed. “Move."
Reluctantly, the priest did.
The court corridor stretched like a throat about to swallow them. Nobles lined the walls, silk brushing stone as they leaned to whisper.
“She walks beside him."
“She's not even dressed properly."
“She's listening."
“She shouldn't be allowed in."
“She sees ev
