Page 64 of Severed Heir

“We wait,” he said, voice flat. “The king has set your titling ceremony. I expect most of the Serpents to attend.”

He closed the book, and for a moment, I saw the cover—an ice beast mid-roar, its fangs bared. He was studying Winter shields.

My voice was quieter this time. “What about the Academy? Malachi and Knox probably think I’m dead. The final trial’s coming. Shouldn’t we be there?”

“Monty will inform Malachi,” he said. “And I have no reason to attend the final trial. I have an heir.”

“I want to go,” I snapped. “If my father gains an heir—”

He raised a brow. “Severyn. Do you remember when we tied our rider bond?”

The heat climbed my neck. “Yes.”

“Then you know I can hear your thoughts.”

My stomach dropped.

“I know your father asked you to commit treason. Which means no, we’re not going. I know damn well you’d risk everything, including your freedom, to save him.”

I leaned against the doorframe, dragging my fingers over the carved stars in the molding. “Fine. When’s my date with Ellison?”

His jaw twitched, but he only shrugged, smooth and unreadable. “That depends on his portal. The lead guard says he’s eager.”

“You spoke to Charles?”

“He’s a guard, Severyn. This is as much a political barter as the last.”

I sighed. “Well then, teach me how to be your heir. What are you working on?”

I stepped toward him, but he shadowed himself the other way, shelving his book.

“I’m trying to understand how Winter shields work,” he said.

“Did you find anything?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I offered your father sanctuary. He refused. Stubborn man. It’s only a matter of time before scavengers break into his mines and steal the diamonds.”

“How long until his shields completely fall?”

“It could be weeks. It’s hard to tell. But by Winter solstice, his wards will break around your estate.”

“What if an heir is named?” I asked.

“Then that heir will have a mess to clean up,” he said. A shadow flickered across his face as he glanced toward the hall. “I’ll call on you if anything comes up. Until then… help Amria in the gardens if you’re bored.”

“So you’re just going to keep avoiding me?”

His jaw tightened. “It’s easier,” he murmured, “if we keep our distance.”

I laughed. “Do you really think I have so little self-control that I’d fantasize about mounting you in your study?”

Archer’s eyes snapped to mine. “Who said anything about you, Severyn?” he said softly. “My self-control is the one hanging by a thread.”

I didn’t reply. I just turned and walked away.

At the front doors, I shoved them open and stepped into the gardens behind the black-bricked estate. The frost-bitten air hit hard, scraping down my lungs like glass. I wanted to scream. To break something.

Then I saw Amria, his aide, and the chaos inside me began to still. She looked up from the patch of soil she’d been tending, dirt streaked across her cheeks, fingers still buried in the earth.Her strawberry-blonde hair lifted in the breeze, a small shovel resting steady in her palm.

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