Page 47 of Severe Husband Warning

We were taught to guard our attachments carefully because those who understand their value will inevitably seek to exploit them. For most of my life, I regarded that lesson as another relic of court politics, useful perhaps, but exaggerated.

Standing beside Calla, I find I can no longer dismiss it so easily. Whether Malakor understands what she means to me is ultimately irrelevant. It is enough that he knows she would never ignore innocent people in danger, and by counting on that compassion he has drawn us both exactly where he wanted us.

Calla’s fingers slip quietly into mine.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

I hold her hand for a moment before lifting it just enough to press a kiss against the back of it.

“We will finish this conversation when we’re somewhere safer,” I answer. “For now, I’m getting you out of here.”

Stormlight gathers around us, swallowing the ruined street in silver before carrying us back to the spire. When the light recedes, we are standing inside my command chamber where Vhoros waits beside the strategy table with several sealed reports already laid out before him.

One look at my expression is enough to erase the formal greeting from his lips.

“What have you found?” I ask.

He places several sealed reports across the table.

“We confirmed irregular crystal movements overnight. Unsanctioned shipments have been entering Lord Malakor's territory for months through decommissioned conduit routes.” His expression hardens. “No one questioned them because every manifest carried legitimate authorization.”

Calla moves quietly to my side as I unfold the nearest report.

Each manifest appears routine when examined on its own, recording nothing more alarming than crystal shipments along neglected conduit routes. Read together, however, they reveal a deliberate pattern stretching back months, concealed beneath paperwork ordinary enough to escape notice.

“A conspiracy,” Vhoros says quietly, “that has been hiding in plain sight.”

I continue reading in silence, each report reinforcing what Calla has uncovered beneath the abandoned spire.

Malakor’s plans have already progressed beyond whispered conspiracy. They are taking shape beneath the city itself, hidden behind routine ledgers and sanctioned deliveries that concealed his preparations right under our noses.

I know what Malakor intends. Every decision from this point forward depends on reaching him before his plans are complete.

23

CALLA

Two days have passed since Rothgar pulled me away from the abandoned lightning-works, yet the memory refuses to loosen its grip. I still see burned hands reaching for another crystal and Old Man Theron straining beneath a burden no one his age should have been forced to carry.

Maps still cover the strategy table where they have remained for the better part of two days, joined now by ledgers, supply manifests, and reports bearing the royal seal. Every morning brings another stack. Every evening ends the same way, with Rothgar bent over them long after darkness settles beyond the windows.

I told myself to be patient. I watched Rothgar and Commander Vhoros gather reports, trace shipments, and disappear into meetings that stretched long into the night. Each morning, I hoped they had finally reached the moment when planning would give way to action.

It never came.

“They’re still down there.” The words leave me quieter than I had aimed for.

Rothgar doesn’t look up immediately. His attention remains fixed on the report spread before him as he finishes reading the final lines. Only then does he set it aside with deliberate care.

“I know.”

“No.” My hand curls around the back of the chair. “You know they’re there. That isn’t the same thing.”

His eyes meet mine.

“Don’t we have enough guards to seize the lower district before sunset? We know where they’re being held.” The urgency creeps into my voice despite my efforts to restrain it. “Every hour we wait gives Malakor another chance to hurt them. We should be bringing them home.”

He studies me in silence, as if weighing whether there is any version of this conversation that ends without hurting either of us.