But I knew it wasn't just the mark. It was what it represented. What it meant.
Choice. Trust. The strength to stand on my own, even when it was terrifying.
I was free. Truly free, in a way I hadn't been since the day I'd met Gavriel Duskryn.
From somewhere outside, I heard voices. Movement. The jingle of keys. Then running footsteps. The door handle rattled, and then the door burst open.
The innkeeper stood there, his face pale with shock as he took in the scene—the destruction, the body, me kneeling amidst the chaos.
"By the Alders—" he began, then fell silent, stepping aside for someone behind him.
A familiar silhouette filled the doorway. Broad-shouldered, imposing, unmistakable even in the dim light.
Uldrek.
He didn't speak. Just looked at me, his gaze taking in everything—the broken Seal, the burn marks on the floor, my bleeding lip, my blistered hands.
And he understood.
Our eyes met, and I saw the moment it all clicked into place for him. Not merely what had happened here but what it meant.He wasn't looking at someone who needed to be saved. He was looking at someone who had chosen to fight.
"You came," I said, my voice barely a whisper.
Chapter 29
Uldrek crossed the room in three swift strides, kneeling before me. His hands hovered near mine, not quite touching, mindful of the burns.
"Issy," he said, just my name, his voice rough at the edges. His eyes moved from my face to what remained of Gavriel, then back to me. Not with horror or judgment—but with something like wonder.
I wanted to say something, to explain, but my throat felt raw, my mind blank. I looked down at my hands, the skin blistered and angry where I'd touched the Seal.
"We need to clean these," he said, reaching for the pouch at his belt and extracting a small tin and strips of linen.
More figures appeared in the doorway behind him—guardsmen in Everwood tabards. I recognized Daric, and beside him, Captain Helvey. They wore matching expressions of shock as they surveyed the room.
And behind them—to my surprise—stood Councilor Thenholt. His eyes widened as he took in the scene, but he showed no fear, only a grim sort of resolve.
"Secure the perimeter," Helvey ordered, gesturing to Daric. "No one in or out." He stepped into the room, careful to avoid the worst of the destruction, and knelt beside what remained of Gavriel. "By the Alders," he muttered.
Uldrek's attention never wavered from me. He uncapped the tin, revealing a pale green salve that smelled of herbs and pine. "This might sting," he warned, his voice low.
He took my right hand first, cradling it in his palm as he gently applied the salve to the burned skin. It stung—a sharp, clean burn that quickly faded to numbness. His touch was careful, clinical almost, but I could feel the tension radiating from him in waves.
"Is everyone okay?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Ellie?"
"Safe," he replied immediately. "Hobbie's with her. Everyone at Tinderpost is fine."
Relief washed over me, so powerful I might have collapsed if I weren't already on my knees. Ellie was safe. That was all that mattered.
Councilor Thenholt approached cautiously, his gaze fixed on the blackened remains of the Seal lying beside Gavriel's body. He crouched to examine it, careful not to touch the melted metal.
"The Seal of Veritas," he said quietly. He looked up at me, his eyes sharp beneath bushy brows. "You did this, young woman? You turned it?"
I nodded once, not trusting my voice.
Thenholt's expression shifted from grim to something like awe. "By the Alders," he murmured again. "You turned it." He straightened, and to the captain, he said, "Gather everything. The Council will want a complete record."
"Am I—" I began, then cleared my throat. "Will I stand trial for this?"