I did my best to pretend I was paying attention during my lesson, but as usual, I didn’t find the material particularly interesting. My tutor had moved on from teaching about foreign nations to math and sciences, but I picked up all the concepts from simply reading the books. Marquess Blackwood had started teaching me as soon as he took me and my mother in, and the tutor wasn’t teaching anything I hadn’t already learned.

  Summer was almost over and that meant Tritetia would be returning to Aehorus and if I didn’t intervene, Yssac would be returning south with his father. The thought gnawed at me, a persistent, unwelcome itch at the back of my mind. I knew what would happen if he left, knew exactly how the Marquess would mold his son into something cruel and desperate, twisting his need for freedom into a hunger for power.

  I forced my expression into something neutral as my tutor droned on, nodding absently as he scribbled equations onto the chalkboard. As I expected, it had only taken a few days for the rumors to start, rumors about a monster lurking in the capital. The whispers spread quickly, twisting and growing with each retelling, but from what I could tell, none of them had been connected to me or my mother. I suspected Caspian had intervened, making sure that whatever rumors circulated never pointed too closely in our direction. It was a calculated move, and I could only assume he had done it to protect Isadora’s reputation as much as mine. If the truth about what I was came out too soon, it could be disastrous.

  I tapped my fingers against the desk, pretending to be deep in thought as I worked through the numbers on the page in front of me. In reality, my focus was elsewhere, my mind turning over the possibilities. If Caspian had the power to stifle the rumors before they reached the palace, then he definitely had the reach to help me realize my plan for Yssac. The question still was if he would bother to help; considering how astute he was, there was a chance I couldn’t lie convincingly enough to make him think it was necessary. It also wasn’t like I could simply tell him the truth.

  The moment my lesson ended, I wasted no time slipping out of the study, ignoring my tutor’s half-hearted attempt to remind me of my reading assignment. My path through the palace was quick, my steps deliberate as I made my way to where I knew I could find Caspian. I had never approached him first before, and I wondered if that alone would make him wary. I found him easily, walking down one of the quieter corridors with a stack of papers in one hand. His eyes flicked to me as I approached, his stride never faltering, though I caught the slight arch of his brow.

  “Your lesson shouldn’t have ended yet,” Caspian’s voice was calm, but there was a hint of curiosity in his tone. He didn't slow his pace, forcing me to fall in step beside him, my shorter legs moving quickly to keep up.

  “I finished early,” I said smoothly, keeping my tone light. “I… wanted to ask you for something.”

  That made Caspian slow down and I noticed the way his eyes glanced to my shoulder. “What is it?”

  I hesitated for only a second before I spoke. “It’s about a friend of mine.”

  Caspian finally slowed, coming to a stop in front of a familiar door. Without another word, he pushed it open and stepped inside. I followed, my stomach twisting slightly as I recognized the room from before. I watched as Caspian set the papers down on the table before turning to face me, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “I’ll listen,” he said plainly. “But I won’t agree until I understand what you’re asking.”

  I took a steady breath, keeping my expression carefully neutral as I clasped my hands behind my back. A nervous knot tied in my gut and I forced myself to stand straight, meeting Caspian’s unreadable gaze without hesitation. His expression gave nothing away, but I could feel the weight of his scrutiny, the way he measured every movement, every hesitation.

  “I want to help my friend,” I started, keeping my tone light, almost hesitant, as if I were nervous about even bringing it up. “His father wants him to leave the capital, but he doesn’t want to go. I was hoping… you might be able to do something about it.”

  Caspian exhaled slowly, his fingers tapping once against his arm. “Your friend.”

  “Yes.” I repeated, but I could see from his expression he didn’t buy that excuse. “Well… not… really friends. He’s been… mean to me and my ma.”

  “Then why do you want to help him?”

  “Because his father is worse!” I ended up shouting before quickly covering my mouth, my desperation getting the better of me as Caspian arched a brow at my outburst. I took a deep breath, trying to swallow my fear and worry as I continued. “He doesn’t want to go back and if he does, his father will make him worse. If he doesn’t go, then maybe… he’ll leave me and my ma alone.”

  Caspian remained quiet, but I could feel the weight of his stare as he studied me. I forced myself to keep my breathing steady, to not fidget under his scrutiny. I had expected him to be skeptical—Caspian wasn’t the type to act on sentiment alone. If I wanted him to help me, I needed to give him a reason that made sense to him and despite my embarrassment, my outburst had likely helped.

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  “You’re purposefully not telling me who, so you must think I won’t help if I know,” Caspian finally spoke and I flinched, staring into one of the dark corners. As expected, Caspian had seen through me easily and I knew at this point that trying to dance around the matter was pointless. Even if I couldn’t tell him the full truth, I could tell him what I heard at the festival.

  “It’s… Yssac. I heard him and his friends the day we snuck out to the festival,” I admitted, keeping my gaze down to avoid meeting his expression. “Yssac said his father wants him to replace you as crown prince, but he doesn’t care. But Marquess Blackwood is awful! He’s mean and scary and if Yssac goes back to him he’ll–”

  “You keep yelling like that and your scales are going to spread again,” Caspian’s calm voice stopped my rant before it could spiral out of control. I snapped my mouth shut, my heart pounding as I realized how worked up I had gotten. My fingers curled at my sides, frustration boiling beneath my skin, but I swallowed hard, shifting my stance as I slowly exhaled through my nose.

  I finally glanced up to notice Caspian’s expression hadn’t changed, but I caught the way his fingers tapped idly against his sleeve, the only sign of his thoughts shifting. I pressed on, my voice quieter now, but firm. “If Yssac goes back, his father will make sure he believes everything he says. If he stays here, he won’t turn into someone willing to kill my ma just because his father tells him to.”

  Caspian narrowed his eyes slightly. “And how do you know the Marquess wants your mother dead?”

  I tensed, realizing my mistake. I had spoken too certainly, too confidently and let knowledge slip that I shouldn’t have. The Marquess didn’t want my mother dead yet, but since Tritetia was still seeing my transformation, it meant he would find a reason. “He… threatened to before, when my ma and pa stood up to him. Yssac said his father told him to find out who you took from Polec, and if he goes back, the Marquess will know it was us.”

  “Hmm,” Caspian’s expression shifted to something thoughtful and I remained still, my heart pounding as I waited for his response. The silence stretched between us, heavy and oppressive and I rocked on my feet, unable to help my uneasiness. I had no other option; there was no one else who could help me with this. If I tried to interfere on my own, I would only draw attention I couldn’t afford. Finally, Caspian exhaled through his nose, his gaze flicking back to me.

  “I’ll deal with the Blackwoods,” he said simply. I blinked, momentarily caught off guard by how easily he had agreed. I had expected more questions, more skepticism. I had expected him to push, to dig deeper, to pry at the gaps in my explanation. Instead, he had come to his decision as smoothly as if he had never doubted it in the first place.

  I swallowed, nodding quickly. “You… will?”

  “Yes.” Caspian stepped away from the table, reaching for the papers he had set down earlier. “You’re not wrong about the Marquess. He’s been a problem for years, and his issue with me is well known. While I don’t believe there is much he could actually do against me or your mother, if his son can be turned against him, that’s one less headache for me.”

  I felt a weight lift from my chest, though I did my best to keep my relief from showing too obviously. Caspian studied me for another long moment before shaking his head slightly, as if dismissing whatever thoughts had been running through his mind. “But Cyran, you need to worry about yourself.”

  “My… self?”

  “I know your mother is your world, but you will reach a point where she can’t be and you can’t be hers,” Caspian said quietly and from the way he spoke, I could tell he was speaking honestly. “Your mother is more than protected here and it would take someone far stronger than the Marquess to challenge that. If someone wanted to hurt your mother, the easiest way to do that would be to take advantage of your love for her.

  “If you really want to protect her, you need to let her go more.” With that, Caspian motioned me from the room, and I listened, closing the door as I leaned against it. It took me a moment to realize there were tears in my eyes and I wiped them away angrily.

  Caspian knew nothing. He didn’t know how I had held my mother’s dying body in my arms, how I had listened to Yssac boast about controlling me for five years, how he had been the one to kill me before I could get my revenge. And yet, he has seen right through me, right to the heart of my obsession and if Caspian could, that meant someone else could as well. Tritetia said the way my mother kept dying changed; what if one of those deaths was my fault?

  The thought alone made my stomach twist uncomfortably. I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to shove the thought away, but it lingered, burrowing deep into my mind like a thorn I couldn’t dislodge. Caspian’s words rang in my ears, his blunt honesty cutting through the panic that threatened to take hold.

  Let her go.

  Forcing myself to breathe evenly, I pushed off the door and started down the hall. The palace was quieter than usual, most of the staff busy with their duties, and I used the solitude to regain my composure. I kept walking until I reached my room, hesitating to open the door.

  “Cyran?”

  I turned as I heard my mother’s voice, and tears came back to my eyes as I threw myself at her, clinging to her as tightly as I could. I knew Caspian was right, that I needed to let her go if I wanted her to survive, but I couldn’t, not yet. Not while she was still alive, not while she was finally happy and cared for. I buried my face against her shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of lavender and warmth, grounding myself in her presence. My mother hesitated for only a moment before her arms wrapped around me, holding me close.

  “It’s alright, sweetheart,” she murmured, her fingers running through my hair the way she always did when she wanted to comfort me. The weight of Caspian’s words still pressed against my chest, but for now, I ignored it. For now, I let myself be a child in my mother’s arms, if only for a little longer.