Page 158 of The Shattered Rite
“Good afternoon, chosen.” The steward’s voice was smooth as oiled steel. “You’ll forgive the wait.”
Whitvale stopped pacing. “What the hell is going on?”
The steward stepped inside, flanked by two guards. He ignored the question, eyes passing over each of them in turn.
“I bring word from the crown,” he said.
Eliryn stiffened. “About Silas?”
The steward paused, as though weighing how much to give. “King Thalen regrets the incident. The matter is being… reviewed.”
“That’s it?” Garic said, rising now. “He was slaughtered.”
“I did not come to debate,” the Steward said coolly. “I came to inform. There will be no delay in the trials. You will proceed, as intended.”
“You can’t just pretend nothing happened,” Whitvale snapped.
“I assure you,” the steward replied, voice sharp, “nothing is being ignored. But the Flame burns forward, and our sovereign will not have sentiment delay its will.”
Eliryn’s hands curled into fists on her lap. “And what is the next trial?”
The steward smiled, just barely. “It has yet to be revealed. But you’ll be notified soon. Prepare yourselves.”
He turned to go, then paused just at the door, voice softening with theatrical gravity.
“King Thalen offers his condolences… and his gratitude for your compliance. You all serve the realm, whether you understand it yet or not.”
A long silence held them.
Then Whitvale muttered, “He doesn’t even try to sound like a real person anymore.”
Eliryn leaned her head back against the wall, pulse thudding. Her vision was nothing but black and ghosts now. Her voice, when it came, was raw.
“I’m so tired of pretending this is anything other than a death sentence.”
Garic’s voice came beside her. Quiet. Sure.
“We’ll get through this.”
Neither of them moved as the steward’s footsteps faded.
The door had clicked shut, but no key turned. It was not locked.
Still, none of them made an effort to test the handle.
“We should go,” Garic said after a moment, though he made no move toward the exit.
“Should we?” Eliryn asked, her voice low but sharper now.
Garic hesitated. “We were dismissed.”
“And they didn’t say to stay,” Whitvale muttered. “But it feels like a test, doesn’t it?”
Eliryn tilted her head toward the sound of his voice.
“It’s the kind of trick the court plays. Leave the cage door open, see who runs.” He rubbed at his jaw, his usual arrogance dulled. “If we leave without escorts, it could be seen as defiance.”
Garic gave a humorless snort. “And if we stay too long, it’s passivity.”
