What They're Saying

"It's already spreading."

Lucien set his phone down on Severin's desk the next morning, his expression carefully blank in the way Eliora had learned meant he was choosing his words with care.

"How bad," Severin said.

"Bad enough. Three different versions by sunrise. One says you threatened Caius with violence. One says Eliora chose you over him in front of witnesses. One says—" Lucien hesitated, glancing at Eliora.

"Say it," she said.

"One says you've claimed her. That the Iron Sovereign took his son's fiancée for himself."

Eliora felt her face go hot. "That's not what happened."

"It doesn't matter what happened," Lucien said. "It matters what people believe happened. And right now, most of the Commission believes the third version."

"Then correct it," she said, turning to Severin. "Tell them the truth. That you're protecting me because of a promise to my father, nothing more."

Severin was quiet for a moment, his eyes on the window, on the sea beyond it.

"I'm not going to correct it," he said finally.

"Why not?"

"Because the truth puts a target on things I'm not ready to expose yet. Your father. The promise. Whatever that symbol in your necklace actually means." He turned back to face her. "Right now, the rumor protects you better than the truth would."

"How does people thinking you claimed me protect me?"

"Because no one attacks what they believe already belongs to someone stronger than them." His voice was matter-of-fact, but something in it made her stomach twist. "It's ugly. I know that. But it buys us time."

"Time to do what?"

"Time to find out who sent those men. Time to understand what's actually happening before every family in Europe starts asking questions we can't yet answer."

Eliora crossed her arms, frustration and something closer to fear tangling together in her chest. "So I just let people believe a lie. About my own life."

"For now," Severin said. "Yes."

"That's not your decision to make."

"No," he agreed. "It isn't. Which is why I'm asking you, not deciding for you." He held her gaze, steady. "If you want to correct it, I'll support that. But I want you to understand what it costs before you choose."

Eliora looked between him and Lucien, feeling the weight of a decision she'd never asked to make.

"What would it cost?" she asked.

"If the Commission understands your connection to your father, to the Atlas symbol, before we know who's hunting it—" Lucien paused. "They may decide you're more valuable as a bargaining piece than as a person under Severin's protection. Some families would use that information. Not kindly."

"So either I let the world think I'm his, whatever this rumor says I am, or I risk becoming a target for every family that hears the truth."

"That's the shape of it, yes," Severin said quietly.

Eliora sat down slowly, the fight draining out of her all at once. "This isn't a choice. It's just two different cages."

"I know." Something in his voice softened. "I wish I could give you a better option."

"Can I at least tell Camille the truth? She's terrified. She's been calling all morning."

"Camille can know," Severin said. "Under protection, and only what's necessary. Not everything."

Eliora nodded, though it didn't make the decision feel any less impossible.

A knock interrupted them. Agnes stepped in, her expression careful. "Sir. There's a call for you. Don Santoro."

Severin's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Put him through to my private line."

"He asked to speak to Miss Aster as well."

The room went still.

"Why would he want to speak to me?" Eliora asked.

"I don't know," Severin admitted, and for the first time since she'd met him, she heard something close to genuine concern in his voice. "But Rafael Santoro doesn't waste effort on things that don't matter to him."

He crossed to the desk and put the call on speaker. "Rafael."

"Severin." The voice on the other end was smooth, unhurried, the voice of a man used to being listened to. "I hear congratulations are in order. Or condolences. I can't decide which, given the company you're keeping these days."

"Say what you called to say."

"Straight to business. I respect that." A pause. "Is the young lady with you? I'd like to speak to her directly, if you don't mind."

Severin glanced at Eliora. She hesitated, then nodded.

"I'm here," she said.

"Miss Aster. A pleasure, even under strange circumstances." Santoro's tone was pleasant, almost warm, which somehow made it worse. "I understand you've had quite an eventful week. A broken engagement. An attack at your own wedding. And now, apparently, the protection of the most feared man in Europe."

"I don't see how any of that is your concern," Eliora said.

"Normally, it wouldn't be." Something shifted in his voice, subtle but unmistakable. "But I received an unusual piece of information this morning. A photograph. Of a pendant. Broken in two, with half of it in your possession."

Eliora's blood went cold.

"How would you know about that," she said carefully.

"Because I've seen the other half," Santoro said. "Once. A very long time ago. It belonged to my father, before it disappeared during a war none of us speak about anymore."

Severin's face had gone completely still.

"What are you saying," he said.

"I'm saying, old friend, that whatever you've stumbled into is far older and far larger than a broken engagement or a dead investigator's daughter." A pause, heavier now. "I'm saying you should ask Miss Aster where the rest of that symbol might be hidden. Because if I know it exists, others do too. And some of them will not be nearly as polite as this phone call."

The line went dead.

Eliora stared at the phone, her heart pounding. "What did he mean? The other half. A war no one speaks about?"

Severin didn't answer right away. When he finally looked at her, something had changed behind his eyes — the careful calm replaced by something closer to alarm.

"I think," he said slowly, "that we've been asking the wrong question since last night."

"What's the right one?"

"Not who wants the necklace." His voice dropped, low and grim. "Who else already knows you have it."