Vira folds her hands in front of her robes. “It has come to the council’s attention that you have been acting independently in matters concerning the Wildspont. Conducting investigations without authorization. Employing… unconventional methods.”
Her gaze flicks briefly to Zeidan before returning to me.
“And that such actions may have further destabilized an already fragile system.”
The accusation lands exactly as intended. I feel the bond tighten, a surge of heat and anger that I tamp down with effort. “If the Wildspont has worsened,” I say evenly, “it is because someone has been feeding poison into its roots. I am trying to stop that.”
“By consorting with Velcryn?” Vira asks gently. “By allowing foreign magic to entangle itself further into our land?”
“That ‘foreign magic’ stabilized the ley lines when nothing else could,” I snap before I can stop myself.
The chamber stirs. Zeidan shifts beside me, his presence steady and unyielding. When he speaks, his voice carries easily across the room, calm and controlled.
“Nytheria’s collapse predates my involvement,” he says. “If anyone here believes otherwise, they are either misinformed or deliberately misleading this council.”
Vira’s eyes sharpen. “This is Nytherian business.”
“And it became Velcryn’s business the moment your Wildspont began unraveling beyond your ability to contain it,” he replies without raising his voice. “You asked for aid. You accepted it. You do not now get to pretend surprise at the consequences of cooperation.”
The bond flares at his defense, hot and immediate, and I have to anchor myself against it. Magic stirs in the room, responding to the tension, to the way Zeidan has placed himself, not in front of me, butwithme.
Vira turns her attention fully to him. “You speak boldly for someone forbidden from our sacred rites.”
“I speak accurately,” he counters. “Which is more than I can say for some of the narratives being presented here.”
The room grows louder. Voices rise. Accusations fly back and forth, circling the same fears, the same old divisions. Through it all, the bond tightens further, responding to my anger, my exhaustion, my fear of losing control here, in front of everyone.
Then someone shouts and my magic snaps.
The surge tears out of me before I can stop it, a wave of raw power that ripples through the chamber, rattling wards and sending a sharp pulse through the Wildspont beneath our feet. Gasps echo around the room. I stagger, breath catching, horror flooding me as I realize what I’ve done.
Zeidan’s hand closes around my arm instantly, grounding, steadying. His magic wraps around mine without force, containing the flare before it can do real damage. The contact sends a shock through me, intimate and undeniable.
“That’s enough,” he says, his voice cutting cleanly through the chaos. “We are done here.”
Vira stares at us, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes.
“We will fix the Wildspont,” I say, forcing my voice to hold. “With or without your approval. And we will expose whoever is poisoning it. No matter how uncomfortable that truth may be.”
Silence slams down. I lock my eyes with Vera. I still don't say I know it's her, but she feels my gaze. The council does not formally dismiss us. They don’t need to. I turn and walk out, Zeidan at my side, the bond thrumming so hard it feels like it might tear me open if I don’t move.
We don’t speak until we are back in our quarters, the door sealing behind us with a soft thud. The quiet is unbearable.
Zeidan turns away first, running a hand through his hair, his shoulders tense. “That,” he says tightly, “was reckless.”
“I know,” I snap. “But they were baiting me.”
“And you walked straight into it.”
I whirl on him. “You think I don’t know that?”
“I think you’re letting the bond push you toward decisions you’ll regret,” he says, his voice low, controlled, and I hate how much that sounds like fear.
“Don’t,” I say. “Don’t put this on the bond.”
“Then what do you call it?” he demands, finally facing me. “Because that surge?—”
“Was me,” I interrupt. “My anger. My frustration. My fear.”