A wager in the dark

The air in Lyanna's chambers was suffocating, thick with the weight of unspoken fears. The flicker of a single candle danced against the walls, casting restless shadows that mirrored her unease. She clutched the letter in her trembling hand, Lorian's taunting words burned into her mind.

"The next move will be mine, dear cousin. You can't outrun the shadows forever."

Kalen stood near the window, his broad frame outlined by the pale moonlight. His sword gleamed faintly, always within reach, as though he anticipated danger to leap from the very darkness.

"Another letter," he murmured, his voice cold and edged. "He's baiting you."

Lyanna's lips tightened into a grim line. "He's not baiting me—he's threatening me."

"That's what cowards do," Kalen shot back, his frustration evident. "And he'll keep doing it until you show him that you're not afraid."

Her gaze snapped to him, her eyes blazing. "You think I'm afraid?"

"I think you're being careful, which is smart. But Lorian is counting on your restraint. He's banking on you hesitating long enough for him to gain the upper hand."

Her silence was answer enough.

A sharp knock at the door broke the tension. Lyanna's heart leapt into her throat, her hand instinctively reaching for the dagger hidden beneath her desk.

"Who is it?" Kalen demanded, his voice like steel.

"It's Clara," came the muffled reply.

Lyanna exhaled and nodded at Kalen to let the servant in. The door opened to reveal Clara, her face pale and eyes wide with fear.

"Your Grace," she stammered, clutching the folds of her apron. "There's… there's been an attack. In the western courtyard. The guards found…" Her voice faltered, and she visibly swallowed before continuing. "…a body."

Lyanna shot to her feet. "Whose body?"

"A messenger," Clara whispered. "The guards say it was a warning."

A Deadly Message

Lyanna and Kalen hurried to the western courtyard, their footsteps echoing in the cold, silent halls. When they reached the scene, the sight that greeted them froze her blood.

The messenger's lifeless body was sprawled across the cobblestones, his tunic stained with crimson. His hands had been bound, his mouth gagged, but it was the mark carved into his chest that sent a shiver down Lyanna's spine: the sigil of Lorian's house—a coiled serpent.

"This is barbaric," she whispered, her voice trembling with barely contained rage.

"It's a declaration," Kalen said grimly, his eyes scanning the shadows for any signs of movement. "Lorian wants you to know he can reach you, even here."

Lyanna clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms. "This is an act of war," she said, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. "And he'll pay for it."

The Guild's Game

Before the first light of dawn, Lyanna found herself in the heart of the city, deep in the labyrinthine alleys where the shadows seemed alive.

The meeting with Sorin was arranged with little time for preparation, but Lyanna knew she couldn't afford to delay. If Lorian was using fear as a weapon, she would counter with a weapon of her own.

The room was dimly lit, the scent of damp wood and stale smoke clinging to the air. Sorin lounged in a worn leather chair, his sharp features partially obscured by the shadows.

"Your Grace," he greeted her with a mocking smile, his voice smooth as silk. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"You know why I'm here," Lyanna said curtly, her tone brooking no nonsense.

Sorin chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Straight to the point. I like that. So, you've finally decided to take me up on my offer?"

"I'm considering it," she replied. "But I need to know what you're willing to bring to the table."

His smile widened, and he leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, I can bring you many things, Your Grace. Information, influence, men who answer only to me. But everything comes at a price."

Lyanna met his gaze unflinchingly. "Name it."

Sorin's smile faltered, replaced by a look of cold calculation. "When you take the throne, the guild will no longer be an outcast. We'll operate openly, with the crown's blessing. In return, we'll ensure Lorian never poses a threat again."

Kalen, who had been silently watching from the corner of the room, stepped forward. "That's a steep price," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Sorin shrugged. "Freedom isn't free, soldier. You of all people should know that."

Lyanna held up a hand to silence Kalen. "I'll agree to your terms," she said, her voice steady. "But betray me, and I'll make sure the guild falls with you."

Sorin grinned. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

The Cliffhanger

As Lyanna and Kalen left the meeting, the faint sound of footsteps followed them through the alley. Kalen's hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, his eyes scanning the darkness.

"Something's not right," he muttered.

Before Lyanna could respond, a figure emerged from the shadows, their face hidden beneath a dark hood.

"Your Grace," the figure said, their voice barely above a whisper. "He knows."

Lyanna froze. "Who knows?"

The figure lifted their head just enough for her to catch a glimpse of their bloodied face.

"Lorian," they said, their voice trembling. "He knows about Sorin. And he's coming for you.