Elara's POV
I threw myself in front of the Dark Lord.
The movement was pure instinct—stupid, reckless instinct that could get me killed. But my body moved before my brain caught up, putting myself between Cassian and Mira's blade.
"Don't," I said, my voice shaking.
Mira stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "El, what are you doing? Move."
"No." I held my ground even though my knees felt like water. "You can't just murder him."
"Murder?" Mira laughed, harsh and cold. "This is justice. This is what we've been training for our entire lives."
Behind me, I felt Cassian tense. He could run. Could use magic to defend himself. Instead, he stayed perfectly still, letting me shield him with my body.
Why wasn't he fighting back?
"Put down your weapons," a new voice commanded. Rowan burst onto the roof with a dozen Shadow guards, surrounding Mira's group. "You're trespassing in the royal garden. Leave now, or face consequences."
The tension crackled like lightning about to strike. Council guards facing Shadow guards. Weapons drawn on both sides. One wrong move and this would turn into a bloodbath.
"Stand down, Rowan," Cassian said quietly. "Let them leave."
"Your Majesty—" Rowan protested.
"I said let them leave." Cassian's voice held command that made everyone freeze. "This woman is a guest in my castle. Her friends are not. Escort them to the border."
Mira's face twisted with rage. "You're protecting him? After everything he's done?"
"Go, Mira." I couldn't look at her. "Please just go."
For a long moment, she just stared at me. Then she spat at my feet. "You're a traitor. When the Council hears about this—"
"The Council will hear the truth," Cassian interrupted. "That they sent assassins during peace talks. That they broke every law of diplomatic conduct. That they're the ones who can't be trusted."
Mira opened her mouth to respond, but Rowan's guards moved forward, surrounding her group. She had no choice. They left, her footsteps echoing down the stairs, each one feeling like a nail in my coffin.
When the roof was finally clear except for Cassian, Rowan, and me, my legs gave out. I sat down hard on the stone path, my whole body shaking.
"That was incredibly foolish," Cassian said, crouching beside me. "She could have killed you."
"She could have killed you." I looked up at him, this man I was supposed to hate. This monster who'd just let Council assassins walk away free. "Why didn't you fight back?"
"Because I'm tired of fighting." He sat down next to me, right there on the ground like he wasn't a king at all. "And because you put yourself between us. That meant something."
Rowan made a disgusted noise. "This is insane. She's one of them, Your Majesty. She's here to kill you."
"I know."
"Then why—"
"Because she didn't." Cassian looked at me, and his eyes were impossibly gentle. "She had a choice, and she chose differently. That's worth more than you think."
"I should go," I whispered. "I should leave before—"
"Before what? Before you learn the truth?" He stood and offered me his hand. "Come back to the library with me. Please. Let me show you what I was going to show you before we were interrupted."
I shouldn't. Everything in my training screamed that this was a trap. But I took his hand anyway and let him pull me to my feet.
The library felt safer somehow. Quieter. Away from weapons and guards and choices that could get people killed.
Cassian pulled a book from a locked shelf and handed it to me. "This is a journal from eighteen years ago. Written by one of the Council's own generals. He describes the orders they received—to stage an attack on Thornewood Village and blame it on Shadow forces."
My hands shook as I opened it. The handwriting was clear, official. Each entry detailed plans for the attack. Estimated casualties. Expected propaganda benefits.
They'd planned it. The Council had planned to destroy my village.
"Keep reading," Cassian said softly.
I turned pages, my vision blurring with tears. And then I found it—a list of survivors pulled from the rubble. Twelve names.
One of them was mine.
"I saved you," Cassian whispered. "I was sixteen years old, barely trained, and I went against my advisors' orders to attempt a rescue. I managed to get twelve people out before the fires consumed everything. You were one of them."
"No." I shook my head. "That's not—they said you—"
"They lied." He moved closer, his voice urgent. "They took you and the other survivors, suppressed your memories with magic, and raised you to be their weapons. They made you forget that I tried to save you."
The journal. The one in my room with my handwriting. The man in the white mask is lying.
"I think I'm going to be sick," I whispered.
Cassian guided me to a chair. "I know this is a lot. But you needed to know."
"Why?" I looked up at him. "Why tell me any of this? I'm here to kill you."
"Because I'm dying anyway." He said it so casually, like it didn't matter. "I have a year at most. And before I die, I want at least one person to know the truth. To remember that we tried."
"What do you mean you're dying?"
"The Council cursed me when they killed my parents. It's been eating away at me slowly ever since." He smiled, and it was the saddest thing I'd ever seen. "So you see? You don't even need to kill me. Time will do it for you."
My throat closed up. This couldn't be real. None of this could be real.
"I don't understand," I managed. "Any of this."
"I know." He pulled another book from the shelf. "But maybe this will help. It's a translation of pre-war history. The real history, before the Council rewrote it. Read it tonight. Then tomorrow, if you still want to kill me, I won't stop you."
He handed me the book and turned to leave.
"Cassian—" His name felt strange on my tongue. "In the garden, you said you wanted to show me the truth. Was this it?"
"Part of it." He paused at the door. "The rest I'll show you tomorrow. If you're still here."
After he left, I sat alone in the library, surrounded by books and lies and truths I didn't want to believe.
The book in my hands felt heavy. I opened it to the first page.
A True History of the Light-Shadow War, by Scholar Isla Nightshade
My hands froze. Isla. The librarian who'd thrown a knife at me and called me a spy. She'd written this?
I started reading.
By the third page, everything I'd ever believed was unraveling.
By the tenth page, I was crying.
By the fifteenth page, I understood.
The Council had started the war. They'd assassinated the Shadow King and Queen. They'd destroyed villages and blamed it on Shadow forces. They'd created a monster out of a grieving sixteen-year-old boy who'd just wanted to save lives.
They'd created me the same way.
A weapon built on lies.
I was still reading when dawn light crept through the windows. Still reading when footsteps approached.
"Find what you were looking for?" Isla stood in the doorway, arms crossed.
"You wrote this." My voice was hoarse from crying. "You documented everything."
"Someone had to." She walked over and sat across from me. "Now you have a choice, spy. Believe the lies you were fed and complete your mission. Or believe your own eyes and choose something different."
"What if I don't know what to believe anymore?"
"Then keep looking until you do." She stood to leave, then paused. "For what it's worth, you're the first spy who made it past chapter three. The others usually run back to the Council before finishing. Too scared of the truth."
She left me alone with the book and my breaking heart.
I had to know. Had to be sure. I pulled out my communication mirror and whispered Mira's name.
Her face appeared, furious. "How dare you—"
"Tell me the truth," I interrupted. "About Thornewood. About what really happened."
Her expression shifted. Became guarded. "What are you talking about?"
"Did the Dark Lord destroy our village? Yes or no."
Silence.
"Mira. Answer me."
"It doesn't matter who physically destroyed it," she said finally. "The Dark Lord is still evil. The Council said—"
"I don't care what the Council said!" My voice cracked. "I need to know what actually happened."
More silence. Then: "The Council is never wrong, El. Trust them. Trust me."
But she wouldn't say yes. Wouldn't confirm it.
Because she couldn't.
Because it was a lie.
I ended the communication and sat there, my whole world shattered around me.
A sound made me look up. Cassian stood in the library entrance, morning light behind him, looking exhausted and sad and hopeful all at once.
"You're still here," he said quietly.
"I'm still here." I stood on shaking legs. "And I need you to tell me everything. Every single thing the Council has lied about. Starting with why they really want you dead."
His face transformed with relief and something else. Something that made my stomach flutter.
"Come with me," he said, holding out his hand. "There's someone you need to meet."
"Who?"
"Your sister."
The book fell from my hands.
"My sister is dead. She died in the village massacre—"
"No," Cassian said gently. "She didn't. She's been here the whole time. Waiting for you to remember."