Wendsor POV
Istha doesn't look up when I enter.
She's bent over her worktable, hands moving through small glass vials with the practiced efficiency of someone who has been doing this for centuries. Which she has. The smell in her chamber is always the same — herbs and something older underneath, something that doesn't have a name I know.
"It didn't work," I say.
"I know."
"The man — the prisoner—"
"Is in the dungeon again. With additional charges." She sets down a vial. Still doesn't look at me. "Rex found her in time. The drug hadn't fully taken hold. She fought it off." A pause that feels deliberate. "She's stronger than you accounted for."
The fury in my chest is a live thing. I press it down.
"Then what now?" I keep my voice level. "He hasn't left her side since. She sleeps in
