Kyritus’s heart drummed in his chest, each double beat filling his temples with hot blood.

He swallowed, hearing the lump break in his throat before the saliva hit his stomach.

“Who are you?”“The people who’re going to break your fuckin’ door down if you don’t open it,” the voice said.Kyritus had a raging desire to grab Tiber and run, but he knew it would be pointless.

Even from a distance, he could feel intense magical pressure emanating from outside—and the man talking wasn’t alone.

Kyritus knew these people would kick down his door and capture him in a heartbeat, so he hesitantly walked toward the door.“Are you mad?” a man with an eloquent, flowing voice asked.

“If she finds out we threatened him, she’ll torture us.”“She wants him protected—how we do it is irrelevant.”“How brutish.

If you wish to face her wrath, fine.

But leave me out of it.”“Fine, I’ll take the blame.” The gruff man slammed on the door again.

“I’m not here to hurt you, but I sure as fuck will if you don’t open this door!”“Coming….” Kryitus’s chest tightened, wondering if they were talking about Delina—hoping they were talking about Delina.

With shallow breaths, he unbolted the door.

Then it flew open, hitting him in the face and knocking him to the floor.

“Ah…!”Two men strode into the room, and they couldn’t be more different.

The well-spoken man was handsome, wearing tailored business clothing underneath his cloak, clearly a compromise between what he usually wore and his current attire.

If Kyritus had to guess, he was a lower noble.

The other man was the opposite.

He was a giant as large as a monta and twice as terrifying.

He wore leather armor like an adventurer but stood straight-backed like a soldier, sporting a gruff beard and muscles that could crush a strong adventurer’s arms.

Kyritus guessed he was ex-military.

How the two ended up speaking on equal ground was beyond his comprehension.“Now you’re just trying to get us killed!” the noble snapped.

Then he offered his hand to Kyritus.

“Please forgive the rude introduction.

My name is Tyran, and this brute is Rokus.

Mention either of our names again, and we’ll have you killed.

So long as you don’t, you are within your patron’s protection.

I recommend you use that privilege to have this man killed.”Rokus turned to Kyritus with a threatening gaze.

“Say a word, and I’ll rip out your esophagus.” Kyritus opened his mouth, but words didn’t come.

They were locked behind a veil of fear that threatened to swallow his throat whole.“Ah yes, there’s that brutishness again,” Tyran said, taking off his cloak.

Then he looked around with a wry smile.

“Well, this… is quaint.

Do you, by chance, have tres? Surely this… establishment has something so basic.”“Who cares?” the giant said, sitting on the bench beside him.

“Get me a twalla.

You at least serve piss here, right?”Kyritus flitted his gaze between them in confusion.

“A tres and a twalla.

Coming right up.” He rushed behind the bar, wondering what layer of Tramula had just opened up in his tavern.

Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to refuse the two men in front of him.When Kyritus returned, he gave Tyran a polished glass of colored tres, and the noble stuck out his bottom lip, bobbing his head in surprise before taking a drink.

The giant didn’t give Kyritus the same courtesy.

He just took a shiver-inducing swig of twalla and then sighed.

“Yep.

Tastes like piss.

You pass.”Kyritus gulped and looked between them.

“Um….

Can someone tell me what’s going on?”The noble raised an eyebrow and then chuckled with an almost pitying gaze.

“Look, kid.

I’m sorry to break the news to you, but….

For whatever reason, you’ve attracted the attention of the wrong woman.

And now, you’re a wanted criminal.”Kyritus’s eyes widened in horror, and he took short breaths, oxygen escaping his body as his lungs clawed and scratched and pleaded to get it back.

Then he looked to the upper room where Tiber was, his body trembling.2Telskal smiled at Sara’s cold expression.

“It seems I’ve struck a nerve.

I suppose that’s natural, considering he was running a slave auction,” she said nonchalantly, speaking of Ubis Grancole, the first tavern owner Sara gave the Silvermoon Bloom to.

“What do you know about that?”Sara’s emotions tempered and then flared in a spectacular display of emotional malleability.

On the one hand, she confirmed that Telskal was speaking about Ubis, the owner of Alexbrook Tavern, instead of Kyritus.

Ubis ran a black market auction, so Sara gave him the highly conspicuous silvermoon bloom to sell at his auction, knowing that the kingdom would investigate, find the auction, and shut it down.

So, she was glad the man got caught.

That said, being told that she was a criminal for exposing Ubis wasn’t just rude—it was downright lazy.“So let me get this straight.

You’re saying that I handed my business partner a rare flower in broad daylight—while being escorted by a member of the Royal Guard?” Sara asked.

“Do you think that I’m stupid?”“I don’t know,” Telskal said.

“You aren’t an oracle, so you had to know of him somehow.”“Like I knew about Lena Robolt?” Sara said.

She narrowed her eyes.

“And know about you?”“Ah, yes, the sedition,” Telskal said.

“You’ll hang for that alone, though I think they’ll need a guillotine in your case.

But let’s not get off track.

We’re not interested in your dealings with Mr.

Grancole.

Dozens of people claim that they saw you outside his tavern during your so-called meeting, and we want to know why he helped you escape.”Sara summoned raw willpower from the deepest pits of hell to keep her face static.

She had prepared for this exact conversation and had obfuscated her whereabouts so thoroughly that proving where she went was impossible.

Still, the question raised her blood pressure.

“If you offer people rewards to tell you what you want to hear, you’ll find exactly what you’re looking for,” Sara said.

“And in a place like Helscope, people will testify to anything for a glider.”If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author.

Report it.Telskal’s lip curled.

“We didn’t offer ‘rewards.’ We obtained the accounts under threat of incarceration or death.”“Innocent people confess under torture.”Telskal strode forward to slap Sara but pulled back.

“We know you left, and we will find out where.

The militia will make sure of it.”“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Sara asked dryly.

“You know—writing your will or something?”Telskal grinned murderously.

“I’m going to enjoy your execution.”“You’re the type that would.”Before the woman could lose her cool, she yanked open the door and slammed it behind her.

Sara crashed onto her bed, feeling as though the reaper was cradling her heart and preparing to squeeze.

She wasn’t worried about the kingdom.

King Escar and his advisors were working around the clock, trying to find a way to execute Sara without causing the heroes to rebel—all while trying to contain the fires she lit through the city.

Last night, nobles binded allegations of corruption on every statue in the city, permanently etching the contents into the monuments.

Between the rebelliousness of the action and the content of the claims, the citizens were doubtlessly spreading the word like wildfire, and there was likely rioting in the streets.

King Escar was fucked—and his problems had only begun.

He would organize a public execution within days, not weeks.

That was a certainty.

That was the plan.No, Sara was worried about Kyritus, Rokus, and Tyran.

If the militia was combing through Helscope, it meant that they could face King Escar’s forces—assuming that Tyran and Rokus ever went.That was ultimately the torment of being locked in a prison cell.

Sara didn’t know if Kyritus was alive or dead, whether Raul and Emma were under intense interrogation, or if Edico was under investigation—as they clearly didn’t trust his account.Sara gritted her teeth.

It would be a very long week.3Kyritus tucked his hands in his armpits, bumping against the back bar and making the bottles clank together.

“What do you mean, wanted criminal?”Tyran sighed, swirling the amber liquid in his rock’s glass.

“You look confused, which is good for us and bad for you.

So I’ll lay out what we’re doing here and outline the consequences of speaking of it.” He took a deliberate drink and then pointed his finger at Kyritus with his index.

“I’m an apothecary, and I’m here to make your sister a silverena elixir with that silvermoon bloom she gave you.”Kyritus’s arm hairs bristled, and he took a sharp breath.“Considering your sister’s dying of tyrexis, I’d say that’s a miracle,” Tyran said.

He swigged the rest of his glass and exhaled sharply, shivering.

“But….”Kyritus balled his hands.

Everything he wanted was right in front of him—but.

That was a word that always conveyed a heavy price in Kyritus’s life.“Your girlfriend fucked it up.

She gave two tavern owners silvermoon blooms, thinking that it’d confuse the narrative.

It worked—but it also means that if someone learns a little girl was miraculously cured of tyrexis, and she’s the sister of a tavern owner….”Kyritus swallowed hard, feeling gut-wrenching emotions crashing within him.

“They’ll lock us up?”“Not exactly.” Tyran shrugged.

“They’ll likely torture you and kill you.

But that’s about the gist.”“T-Then what can we do?” Kyritus asked, looking upstairs.“I’m so very glad you asked,” Tyran said, rocking back the rest of his tres.

“And thankfully, the instructions for surviving this situation are very simple: do exactly as I say when I say it.

Otherwise, I’ll throw you to the hounds and roll the dice with your girlfriend.

Got it?”Kyritus swallowed hard.

“Got it.”“Brother?”Kyritus’s heart nearly stopped when he heard Tiber’s voice.

“Oh, hello there, little one,” Tyran said, grinning as he looked up the stairs.

“Please, please, come join us.

I bear wonderful news.

Don’t I, Kyritus?”Tiber trembled in fear, and Kyritus forced a smile.

“Yeah, that’s right.

Honest.

Things are a bit… complicated.

But they’re good.”“See? It’s true,” Tyran said.

“Now please come join us.”“Touch the kid, and I’ll murder you,” Rokus said, putting down his twalla.Tyran scoffed in astonishment.

“Do you think that I—““Just don’t fucking do it.” Rokus stood up, casting a long, giant shadow on the bar.

“Don’t threaten her.

Don’t coerce her.

Don’t play your fucking games.

You don’t fuck with children.

Now make that silver… whatever.

There’s ironbloods out in the streets, and they’ll be here soon enough.”Tyran took a deep breath, turning away.

“Fair en~ough,” he drawled.

"Let’s get to work.” He activated his spatial ring, retrieving a mortar and pestle and various vials.

“Procure me the silverbloom and we’ll—“Suddenly, someone yelled, “There’s one over here!” outside, followed by the shuffling sound of soldiers’ boots in the alleyway.Rokus grabbed his sword by reflex but took his hand off it.“What are you doing, you brute?” Tyran asked.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to turn us in.

You’ll go down for—““I’m not,” Rokus said.

“I’m doin’ this for my General, but it ain’t worth sheddin’ the blood of my kin over.”Tyran’s face turned purple, and he turned to Kyritus.

“Exit.

Now.”Kyritus nodded quickly.

“Let me get the silvermoon.”Tyran looked at the door.

“Hurry up.”The soldiers started knocking as soon as Kyritus started up the stairs.

“Open up! We’re on orders from His Majesty!”Kyritus ignored them, shooting over to his room, picking up a bag, and stuffing it full of clothing.

Then he put the silvermoon bloom jar into the center of the mass before looking at the book he read to Tiber on the bad nights.

With anguish in his eyes, he turned away and rushed back downstairs without it.

If things worked out with Tyran, Tiber would be healed by the end of the week.

If things didn’t… he didn’t want to think about what would happen if he didn’t.