Reckoning

Elara's heart pounded in her chest. The moment Damien spoke her name, the air in the room turned suffocating.

Garrick didn't move immediately, his grip on the door tight, muscles coiled with tension. Keshav shifted beside her, his posture rigid, ready for whatever came next.

"Elijah." Damien's voice was steady, unreadable. "Open the door."

Garrick's fingers flexed around the dagger in his grip, but Elara stepped forward before he could do anything reckless. She couldn't afford to let this spiral out of control.

She pushed past her father and into the doorway, keeping her face carefully neutral. "Commander," she greeted, forcing her voice to remain steady.

Damien's expression gave away nothing, but his gaze flickered past her, scanning the dimly lit room. His eyes landed on Garrick for a fraction of a second before settling on Keshav, whose presence only deepened the tension.

Elara knew Damien was calculating—piecing together why his recruit was standing in a blacksmith's back room, accompanied by someone he hadn't given permission to leave the fortress.

"You left without informing anyone," Damien said, his tone even. "That's not like you."

Elara forced herself to hold his gaze. "I needed to take care of something."

Silence stretched between them.

Damien's eyes flickered over to Garrick again, and this time, something shifted in his expression.

"Elijah," he said slowly, carefully, "who is this man to you?"

Elara's pulse thundered. A lie sat on the tip of her tongue, but Garrick beat her to it.

"I'm just a blacksmith," her father said, voice gruff. "The kid asked me to repair their blade."

Damien didn't look convinced. His gaze flicked to Keshav. "And you?"

Keshav didn't blink. "I came with him to make sure he wasn't being reckless."

Damien studied him for a long moment, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a blade. Then, to Elara's surprise, he simply exhaled.

"Return to the fortress," he ordered. "Now."

Elara hesitated, glancing at her father. There was so much more she needed to ask, so much she still didn't understand.

But Damien was watching her closely, his patience running thin.

She swallowed the frustration burning in her throat. "Yes, Commander."

Keshav gave Garrick a final look before turning to follow her out.

But as Elara passed Damien, his voice dropped low. "We're not done talking about this."

A shiver ran down her spine. She didn't doubt it.

The ride back was silent. Keshav didn't say a word, and Elara didn't push. Her thoughts were too tangled—her father's warnings, the truth about the Valerius name, and now Damien's growing suspicion.

By the time they reached the fortress, night had fully fallen. They dismounted, leading their horses back to the stables, but just as Elara turned to leave, Keshav spoke.

"You should be careful," he said quietly.

Elara frowned. "I know."

"No." Keshav's gaze was serious. "I mean with him."

He didn't need to say Damien's name.

Elara sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "He's not my enemy."

Keshav's silence was telling.

"Not yet," he murmured before disappearing into the barracks.

Elara lingered for a moment, her chest tightening.

Because for the first time since she'd come here, she wasn't sure where the battle lines were drawn anymore.