Kai stood in Naia's room, the candlelight flickering across the tense curve of her jaw. She hadn't sat down. She hadn't moved since he started talking.
He had told her everything: Firra's imprisonment, the king's grotesque dependence on draining her power, the underground auction that had sold Firra and broke Kleo, and the harrowing escape just hours ago. Every truth laid bare like a blade across the floor between them.
Still, Naia hadn't said a word.
"You're angry," Kai said, keeping his voice steady, even though her silence struck deeper than any shout might have. "I get it. But I wasn't going to put you at risk unless I had to."
Naia's jaw clenched. "You already did," she hissed, her voice raw. "Do you know what'll happen if my father finds out? If the Inquisition hears that a noble's daughter is sheltering a criminal and the King's… magical battery?"
"I won't let it come to that."
