Hearing Cassian say those words made me feel nothing but disgust at being described like a weapon.
Now, sitting in this room with Grace watching me like a shield, I understood why the warning mattered.
If the King wanted answers about my gift, he would not kill me quickly. He would try to keep me alive while cutting away everything that protected me. Cassian was telling me to be careful.
That thought settled heavily, but I did not allow it to show on my face. This wasn’t the time to worry about him. I had some more important things to focus on.
Grace’s voice cut through my thoughts. Two already died,” she reported, and the way her jaw clenched told me she had been holding that sentence back for too long. “They died in the most painful way, and the men who survived are begging our healers to end it if it gets worse.”
The room felt tighter for a moment. I looked down at my hands.
I was in Nightfall.
I was in the place where they had thrown me away and then called it necessity.
Grace took a breath, then asked the question she had been trying not to ask since she walked in.
“Are you not going to heal them?” she asked, and her voice stayed respectful, but her eyes did not hide the urgency. “If you can, then we might still save them.”
I did not answer immediately.
I turned my gaze toward the balcony again, toward the view that had once made me feel trapped. The sun was sinking. throwing gold across the edges of the mansion grounds, and the light made the place look peaceful in a way it did not deserve.
I thought about everything I had suffered here, and the memories came easily, because this house had never let me forget
I thought about the years of being ignored until I became useful.
I thought about Celeste hugging me earlier, shaking with fake emotion, acting like she had loved me all along, and I felt my stomach turn.
I thought about revenge, because revenge was a comfort when everything else felt unstable, but revenge did not always mean blood.
Sometimes revenge meant refusing to play the role they wrote for you.
Grace watched me carefully. She probably expected me to say yes, because she was trained to believe duty mattered more
than resentment.
I lifted my eyes to hers as I recalled what Cassian told me. He owned me. He had the right to tell me who to heal and who to ignore. That was the harsh truth. And while our relationship had improved since our initial deal, his words that night still lingered inside my head. It reminded me that while I have the ability to heal, I also have the freedom to chose who to heal.
“I am not going to heal them tonight,” I said, and I did not soften it. “Not because they do not deserve to live, but because I will not allow Celeste and William to use my gift as a stage while they sharpen knives behind my back.”
Grace’s brows pulled together. “My lady-”
“I know,” I interrupted gently, because she was not my enemy. “I know what it looks like when soldiers die and the person who could help chooses to wait, and I know it feels cruel, but you need to understand something”
I stood slowly, then I walked toward the balcony doors and rested a hand against the frame as if I needed it.
“Celeste and William brought the Demon Fangs here,” I said, and the words came out without hesitation because I had stopped being afraid of naming them. “They wanted this attack, and they wanted it here, because it served their story. They wanted to make me a tool, and they wanted to control when I was allowed to be useful.”
Grace’s eyes widened slightly, but she did not interrupt.
I continued, because the truth only mattered if it was spoken clearly.
“They schemed against me, they revealed my location, and they opened a door for the Demon Fangs to walk in,” I said. “I only added fuel to the fire when I used those poisonous arrows, and I did it because I knew what I was dealing with and I knew it would end quickly if I forced the Demon Fangs to retreat, but do not confuse that with guilt.”
I turned my head enough to look at Grace directly.
“If Celeste and William wanted the Demon Fangs to attack, then they created this,” I said. “They created it so they could stand in the ashes and pretend they were victims, and I am not going to destroy myself cleaning up a mess they made on purpose, not while they are already planning how to kill me and blame it on the same enemy they invited.”
Grace’s mouth tightened as she absorbed it. I could see anger starting to rise in her, the kind of anger she usually saved for enemies she could cut down.
“They did not choose this,”I added. “I know those soldiers were merely collateral damage. That is why I am thinking instead of rushing I will take my time.”
Grace’s gaze sharpened. “If that is the case… there is no need to heal them. It was their leaders who chose their fate, not you.”
I breathed out slowly and looked at the sky turning darker.
“I will heal when it benefits my people and protects my life,” I said, keeping my voice steady even as my chest tightened. “I am the northern consort, Grace. I serve the North first, and I will not bleed myself dry for the same people who discarded me the moment they decided I was worthless.”
I let the words sit between us, because I needed Grace to understand that this was not cruelty. This was survival, and survival required choices that did not always look kind from the outside.
“The South likes to call itself home,” I continued. “But I have lived here long enough to know what that word really means to ut I have lived here long enough to know what that word really means to them. They smile, they bow, they speak of family, and then they sharpen knives behind the curtains. In the North, they threaten you to your face. Here, they wrap the threat in concern and call it love.”
I drew a slow breath, forcing my hands to stay still, forcing my body not to show the anger that kept trying to rise. “If I want the truth, I cannot move the way I used to move. I cannot rusli. I cannot comfort everyone. I cannot hear every wound just because someone cries loud enough.”
Grace nodded, her jaws clenched. Then suddenly, a knock interrupted our thoughts. Grace immediately went to the door and opened it. It was one of Celeste’s servants. “My lady…” the servant immediately kneeled the moment she spotted Atasha. “Lady Celeste… she…”
“Speak!” Grace hissed, her expression ugly.
“Lady Celeste had been taken… the Demon Fangs… the Demon Fangs took Lady Celeste!”
