The interrogation chamber’s torches had burned low, casting wavering shadows across empty chains. Irmin stood in the doorway, her mind refusing to process what her eyes reported.

  The assassins were gone.

  She strode to the nearest set of manacles, her fingers tracing the rust-dark stains. The iron retained no warmth—they’d been empty for hours.

  “Commander.” A guard appeared in the doorway, snapping to attention. “The general requests your presence in his office.”

  “When were the prisoners moved?”

  “I don’t know, Commander. I only just started my shift.”

  Irmin brushed past him, boots ringing on stone as she took the stairs two at a time. Berthold’s concern pressed against her mind, but she pushed it away. She couldn’t afford his moderating influence right now. Couldn’t risk dulling the edge of her anger.

  General Eberhard’s office occupied a corner of the military wing, its windows offering clear views of both the main courtyard and the wyvern training grounds. He stood at a window when she entered, hands clasped behind his back. The evening light caught the silver in his hair, making him look older than she remembered.

  “The prisoners are dead.” He spoke without turning, his voice carrying the same steady authority it had held since her training days. “Executed on Temple Hill.”

  “On whose authority?”

  “Mine.”

  “They were our only leads. Our only chance to unravel this conspiracy before—”

  “Before what?” Now he did turn, fixing her with the stern gaze that had cowed a hundred young officers. “Before you could extract more contradictory confessions? More convenient evidence pointing exactly where someone wants us to look?”

  “They knew things. Details about the ravenglass trade, about House Darius—”

  “They knew what they were told to know.” He moved to his desk, retrieving a sealed document. “Their execution was necessary. Clean. Legal.”

  “Legal? Was it legal to deny me access to my own prisoners? To eliminate leads in an active investigation?”

  “Your investigation ended when I gave you a direct order to stand down. An order you chose to ignore, based on the reports I’ve received.”

  She should have known he’d have eyes on her. Should have been more careful checking the storage rooms. But it was too late for caution now.

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  “I found evidence—”

  “You found what they wanted you to find.” He slapped the document down. “Think, Irmin. Really think. House Darius has stood loyal for eight generations. They craft our finest weapons, maintain our ravenglass stockpiles. Why would they risk everything on such a clumsy assassination?”

  “They were set up to take the fall.”

  Something flickered in Eberhard’s eyes. “Go on.”

  She forced herself to slow down, to lay out her thoughts with military precision. “The dagger was too obvious. And the ravenglass…” She swallowed. “Someone’s corrupting it. Deliberately. Using House Darius’s marks to cover their tracks.”

  “Corrupting ravenglass is impossible.”

  “Impossible doesn’t mean what it used to.” She met his gaze. “You’ve seen the warning signs. Unstable bonds, aggressive behaviour in normally docile wyverns. Something’s wrong with the network that maintains our power, and someone’s using House Darius as a convenient scapegoat while the real threat grows.”

  Eberhard was silent for a long moment, studying her with an intensity that made her want to fidget like a raw recruit. Finally, he sighed. “You sound like your father.”

  “He would have pursued the truth, no matter where it led.”

  “He would have considered all the angles before charging into action.” His rebuke was gentle but firm. “Your instincts are good, Irmin. But instinct without strategy is just another word for recklessness.”

  “And caution without action is just another word for cowardice,” she answered.

  The words hung between them, impossible to take back.

  Eberhard’s face hardened. “Choose your next words carefully, Commander.”

  She drew herself up, shoulders square. “With respect, sir, I don’t have time for careful words. While we stand here debating protocol, enemies move in shadow. The corrupted ravenglass I found? It’s spreading. And someone is using our own security measures to distribute it.”

  “You have proof of this?”

  “I have evidence. More than enough to justify—”

  “Evidence you gathered in direct violation of orders.” He raised a hand as she started to protest. “I’m not blind, Irmin. I see the same shadows you do. But moving against them requires precision. Patience. One wrong step and we risk civil war.”

  “And what do we risk by doing nothing?”

  Eberhard moved to a cabinet, retrieving a bottle and two glasses. He poured a measure of amber liquid, offering one to Irmin. “Tell me about your mission.”

  She blinked. “Sir?”

  “Don’t play coy. You have that look—the one that says you’re about to do something dramatic and probably illegal.” He smiled. “I’ve known you since you were knee-high to a wyvern, remember? I can read your intentions like a battle map.”

  She didn’t take the proffered drink. “Better if you don’t know the details.”

  “Plausible deniability?” His smile faded. “Or don’t you trust me anymore?”

  The question cut deeper than she expected. This man had trained her, mentored her, helped shape her into the officer she’d become. But now?

  “Trust is a luxury we can’t afford right now.” She moved to the door. “Not until we know how deep this rot goes.”

  “Irmin.” His voice stopped her, her hand hovering over the latch. “Whatever you’re planning…be careful. You’re not just a commander anymore…you could be our next Queen.”

  “I understand. I understand that someone killed my father. That they’re trying to tear apart everything he built. And that they won’t stop until we stop them.”

  “And if stopping them requires sacrifices you’re not prepared to make?”

  “Then I’ll make them, anyway.” She straightened. “Because that’s what he would have done.”

  She left before he could respond, her boots echoing on stone as she strode through torch-lit corridors. Berthold’s presence filled her mind, offering wordless support.

  “I know,” she told him through their bond. “It’s probably a trap.”

  “Almost certainly. But that won’t stop you.”

  “Can’t stop. Won’t stop.” She emerged into the courtyard, where evening shadows painted everything in shades of grey. “Not until we find the truth.”

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