There was much to be done, much to be settled, yet even as Cassian’s mind tried to remain focused on the politics and threat at hand, he found it wandering to the limp form of his pack mate being taken from the room.

There was also another thing on his mind: Cassian knew that fire.

Mouth closed, eyes searching, mind galloping through the events of the last thirty minutes, Cassian didn’t protest when Iliana took them to a place they both knew would be far more private. He entered the room after her, walked to the center of it, and took a stabilizing breath, one only he would notice the calming effects of.

His eyes then found Iliana, waiting for her to break the silence.

While Cassian found a breath, Iliana felt as if she couldn’t catch hers. The bindings of her dress felt too suffocating… the corset under dug into her skin… the shoes suddenly felt two sizes too small yet she knew everything on her was tailored exactly to her. It all fit perfectly.

Staring out, she’d catch a glimpse of shadows rushing by buildings and for a moment she swore she heard the voices of Loren in her head. The Eldouir are back. “We certainly know how to have a public address.” She murmured. It was meant as a joke, the words were meant to sound as if said in humor. Yet no smile crossed her face.

She turned to look at him, green eyes searching him. “You didn’t seem surprised by any of what just happened.” She never understood how he did it. “Do you know what happened? The heat… why some us are untouched while the others have burns?”

Cassian quirked a brow at Iliana’s joke, more response than he would have given to anyone else, a wordless acknowledgement of her jest. Starting today he intended to change the way his wife addressed her people. Perhaps messengers reading notices on street corners was the only way to keep her safe. If necessary, so be it. Nothing would happen to Iliana on Cassian’s watch.

“I know why I have no burns.” It wasn’t something he ever talked about or showed, but there were some secrets he wanted to share with the right people at the right time. Cassian reached into his shirt to produce the amulet that always rest on his chest. She would be familiar with it, surely, though likely just assumed it was a family heirloom. His eyes rose from the necklace and to Iliana.

“But I don’t know what protected you.” He thought of his passing conversation with her royal guard, the one who had been in the room. Perhaps he had something to do with it.

It had to be the witch. She had done her job and saved him, at the cost of herself possible? But Cassian produced that necklace. One she had seen on him plenty. Now that she thought about it, she didn’t think she ever saw him without it when he was bare before her. She stared at it, letting his words sink in as he held the metal.

It protected him. But not her. Her eyes went to her hands again, staring for a moment before she glanced towards the door, as if she could see October standing on the other side through the wood. “My guard is not gifted, and the others who are, were not there.” Or at least not close to her to insanely save her.

Iliana focused back towards him, slowly stepping towards him until she could brush the medallion with just the tips of her fingers before she let her arm drop. “Any other tricks you have hiding that might help?” She asked, eyeing him before she glanced at the door. “I don’t understand where that letter came from, nor how it knew such details Cassian. Did you get a chance to read it in its entirety?”

Cassian watched his wife look to her hands, and he had a thought that wasn’t breaking ground for the first time: perhaps she was gifted. It wasn’t a hard conclusion. Both her mother and her aunt had been gifted. Though Iliana was arguably old for manifesting a gift, she also hadn’t been in the right conditions to discover an ability to use magic. She was a Rainecourt, and it was assumed all Rainecourts were without magic.

It seemed, however, she did not want to take the conversation in that direction, so Cassian held the thought close to his chest and said nothing of it.

“The letter was written by Duke Simon Mikaels.” He said it without flinching, without even a hint of uncertainty. If she was irritated that she was just now hearing of it, then she should have come to him when everything first came apart. But she hasn’t. She’d sought the counsel of well-meaning but ultimately useless politicians who could only speculate. Cassian had thought Iliana had learned years ago that he was her greatest resource, but apparently she still needed that proved to her.

Her head snapped up, looking across the room at him though there wasn’t that much space that separated them. Only a few feet. “Why would he write such a thing in my name? And give it to the whole kingdom?” Her hands fell to her sides, the weight on her shoulders pressing harder on her. Someone from her own cabinet. Her inner circle.

“What conversations have you had with him?” It wasn’t accusing, but clearly, Cassian knew something. He knew more than her own court knew at the moment. And she desperately wanted to know why.

”He was trying to force your hand.” Cassian told her, and there wasn’t condemnation in what he said. This was a political fight she was facing, and she was losing right now.

“He had collaborated with me on that proposal but was explicitly instructed to bring it to you for approval. He had little faith in you, this he took it to the people instead.” Cassian watched his wife. His tone held the question he didn’t ask: now what would she do about it?

Jaw locked, she turned back to the window. When had her corset tightened… when had the air in her office gotten so thick… why was her dress so heavy… Her hands found purchase on her hips as she stared out the window. He breathing deep as she gripped with the anxiety that was threatening to take over. Not once had Simon ever come to her about any of the things on that paper, but she supposed that’s what the proposal was. Yet… why?

The one word kept buzzing in her head and when she turned back to Cassian, her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. She wanted to hold herself together, but for the first time that day, she was almost alone. Yet she was most terrified of losing her composure in front of him. Maybe seeing him… maybe it’d make her piece everything back together…

But as she took her next breath she dropped her head, her chin tucking to her chest. “This is treason.” She said, her voice heavy. “This was to stir panic in part of our kingdom and yet push forward others. It went against my current word… I want him brought to me.”

Cassian saw the bushes tears but did not bring attention to them. Everyone had feelings. Even him. Some didn’t show them, some tried not to show them, and some displayed them for all to see. Cassian had always admired the balance his wife maintained. Julius, on the other hand, would have struck Cassian for the wetness.

“He will be brought.” Cassian said with a nod. Then slowly, hesitantly, “As misguided as the action was, I think it far stepping to call it treason. The Duke doesn’t want to rule Lorendale…but he does want to see change. I believe everyone does, though there is a vast difference in what changes are desired by various parties.” He fell silent. He had led Iliana much when she was younger, but now he tried to walk beside her rather than leading.

Cassian went to the door and told a guard outside to summon Simon Mikaels. It would likely take some time for him to arrive, so in the meantime…

“We must set a plan for Elena.” He had one, but fell silent to allow Iliana to speak first.

A moment flashed over her, and her words followed. Perhaps it was because he didn’t point out that slip of tears. Or maybe she was gaining her own footing still. “Not treason?” She looked at him in disbelief. “He is supposed to have an alliance to us… to our Kingdom as we have seen fit to have it. Do you think his words haven’t brought chaos and death upon us?” For all Iliana knew, Cassian’s witch could still wind up dead… the same for the gifteds now in the cells.

“He might not want to rule but he could cost Lorendale some of its people due to his forgery.” She reached up, tucking her hair back though it didn’t dare stay. Which left her fussing with it for a moment. “And I don’t want anyone to dare do this again.” It was a quiet admission.

Thankfully, Elena’s situation seemed to be easier for her to handle. “Won’t we have the same outcome? Leave her alive, we bring the Eldouir’s upon us… kill her, and they will come.” Green gaze leveled across the small distance on him. “I’d rather there be one less Eldouir in the fight.” Her eyes wide, because this was not the first time she was potentially sentencing someone to death. In fact,her gut twisted with how many she had. “Is it cruel of me?” She whispered, the tears dusting her lashes as she took a step towards him.

Cassian listened to his wife share her thoughts, clearly passionate, a picture of what everyone wanted to see in their queen. He kept silent and watched her, listening. He was the king of Lorendale, yes, but at the end of the day this kingdom was hers. It would rise or fall with her decisions.

“It is not the duty of a ruler to concern themselves with being just or being cruel; it is their duty to do what must be done for the good of their kingdom.” His tone had taken an instructive bent as he spoke, one that was likely familiar to her, dating back to when he trained her to rule. There was a softness in his dark eyes, a kindness as they spoke. They didn’t have the luxury of being good or evil; they had a singular focus. At least, that was how he was raised to rule.

He fell silent then, leaving it in her hands. Not every decision would be what others wanted, but he knew his wife better than anyone. She would choose what she chose for Lorendale.