Page 140 of The Shattered Rite
As they walked side by side down the narrow stone halls, his shoulder brushed hers, casual, but purposeful. His arm shifted just enough to touch hers again.
She didn’t pull away.
“You’re not alone in this,” he said softly, not looking at her. “You never have been.”
The sincerity in his voice struck something small and trembling inside her. Eliryn inhaled slowly, as if that might steady her hands.
“My sight’s gotten worse,” she admitted under her breath. “Edges blur. Faces smear. I’m still tracking motion, but-”
He slowed his pace half a step, letting her match him more easily. “Lean on me if you need to.”
She did. Just slightly. But enough to know he meant it.
“Why now?” she asked more seriously. “What does the king want?”
Silas’s mouth tightened. “To look at you.”
She arched a brow. “What, checking if I’ve grown wings yet?”
Silas didn’t smile. “Maybe. Or maybe he just wants to see you kneel.”
At that, her stomach twisted.
“Great.”
“You’ll be fine,” he said.
“Not exactly reassuring, Silas.”
“I’m not trying to be.”
That startled a small, honest laugh out of her. She glanced up at him. “And here I thought you were kind.”
“I am,” he said seriously. “Which is why I’m telling you—be careful.”
A pause stretched. She studied him more closely now, her voice quieter.
“Something else is wrong, isn't it?”
Silas didn’t answer at first. Then: “Two servants were found dead.”
Eliryn’s pulse stumbled.
“They had nothing to do with the trials,” she said softly.
“No.”
“And you think…?”
“I think someone in that throne room doesn’t care who the targets are.”
She didn’t answer. Her thoughts skittered in too many directions. Malric’s voice haunted her more than she wanted to admit.
After a long silence, Silas spoke again, low. “How the king will react to you depends on whether you look like a threat.”
“I’m half-blind and limping.”
“Doesn’t matter with your dragonmarks... There's not a lot you can do to lessen the look of your bond.”
