The ballroom had been cleared, but the scent of magic still lingered—burnt ozone and blood, heavy with what could have been.
Evelyn sat at the edge of the infirmary bed, her fingers tight around the hem of her dress. She wasn't hurt. Not physically. But something inside her felt bruised.
Across the room, Caelan lay on a cot, his arm bandaged, his brow furrowed as he watched her. Not possessive. Not pleading. Just… there.
Steady.
Silent.
Alexander stood with the healers, speaking in low, clipped tones. He hadn't looked at her once since they arrived.
Coward, she thought, though the word tasted bitter. Not because it wasn't true—but because it was.
"I should've stopped her sooner," Caelan said quietly.
"You stopped her in time," Evelyn replied, but her voice was distant. She wasn't really talking about the woman in silver anymore. And Caelan… he knew it.
"Do you trust him?" he asked suddenly.
She blinked. "Alexander?"
"I saw how he looked at her. The woman in silver. He knew her."
"I know," Evelyn said. "But he also chose to protect me."
"For now," Caelan said, and though the words weren't cruel, they left a shadow behind.
She didn't answer. Couldn't.
Because part of her was still standing back in that ballroom—between two men, under burning chandeliers, with the taste of power and danger on her tongue.
The door creaked open behind them.
A hush fell.
Evelyn turned—slowly—and froze.
A woman stood in the doorway. Tall. Regal. Dressed in dark plum robes with a crest embroidered over her heart.
Valerius.
But this wasn't Celeste.
This was older. Sharper.
Alexander's aunt.
"Lady Cassandra," he said tightly, stepping forward.
"You've made quite a mess, nephew," she said, voice smooth as ice. Her gaze swept over Evelyn—measuring, cold.
"Is this her?" she asked.
Evelyn stiffened.
Alexander stepped between them before she could respond. "You're not welcome here."
"Too late," Cassandra said. "The High Families have called a Summit. The girl's involvement has brought attention. She's not just a student anymore. And neither are you."
Evelyn stood. "I don't belong to any of your politics."
"Maybe not. But you belong to someone," Cassandra said, her eyes gleaming. "And we intend to find out who."
Alexander's jaw clenched.
"Touch her," he warned, "and I will burn down every seat at your Summit."
But Evelyn didn't flinch.
She stepped forward, shoulders square. "Let them summon whoever they want. I'm not afraid of their truths."
She paused, gaze flicking to Alexander. "Are you?"
The room was silent.
Then Lady Cassandra gave a thin smile. "Oh, you'll do nicely."
She swept from the room without another word.
Evelyn looked back at Alexander.
This time, he was the one avoiding her eyes.