Chapter 9: Something Worth Burning
Bryant didn't touch the letter for three full minutes.
He sat at the head of the table, firelight flickering across his jaw, Evelyn's breath still lingering at his collar.
She wasn't afraid.
Not even when she should be.
And worse—he didn't want her to be.
He finally opened the seal.
Council of Elders — crimson wax, serpent crest, heavy with politics and threat.
We request your presence at the Lunar Convergence two nights from now. Attendance is not optional. A representative from the West will also be present regarding your latest acquisition.
His eyes darkened.
Acquisition.
They meant Evelyn.
And someone out there was asking questions about her.
He didn't like that.
He didn't like anyone seeing what was his.
—
Later that night, Callan hovered in the doorway, cautious.
"She didn't return to her room," he said.
Bryant looked up. "Where is she?"
"In the observatory. Alone."
Silence.
Then: "Stay here."
—
The observatory was silent.
Just high glass windows, moonlight spilling across marble, and Evelyn—barefoot, curled in a chair, wrapped in one of the cloaks from his chamber.
She didn't look at him when he entered.
"You're not supposed to be here," she said.
"You're not supposed to be in my things," he replied.
She held up the cloak lazily. "Didn't have a coat. Besides, it smells like smoke and arrogance. Comforting."
He crossed the room slowly.
"She's digging."
"Who?"
"The Council. And someone else."
She looked at him now.
Long.
Slow.
"You mean someone's asking about the scarred girl you bought like cattle?"
He didn't flinch.
"You think it's funny?" he asked.
"No," she said. "I think it's late."
She stood.
Moved toward the door.
But Bryant stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
"Tell me why they're interested," he said. "Now."
"Maybe because I'm not what I seem."
"Maybe?"
"Or maybe I'm exactly what I seem," she said, stepping closer. "And that's what makes them nervous."
He didn't move.
Neither did she.
The moonlight framed her scar. Made it look like silver rather than ruin.
"Why do you keep disarming me?" he asked, more to himself.
Evelyn smiled faintly.
"Because no one's ever dared to try."
—
He let her pass this time.
But as the door shut behind her, Bryant remained.
Staring at the window.
At the moon.
At his reflection—blurry in the glass.
And for the first time in years, he realized he was no longer in control.
Not of the Council.
Not of the girl.
And maybe—not of himself.
---