Blades & Lies

Evelyn's pulse hammered in her ears.

The moment hung suffocatingly between them, thick with tension, rage, and something else—something unspoken, something raw.

She watched Alistair Veyne, his posture rigid, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. He was holding himself together by sheer will alone, but there was no mistaking the storm behind his eyes.

His daughter.

The girl who had died on that mission… she had been his daughter.

Evelyn's stomach twisted into a painful knot.

Her gaze flicked to Damien, standing eerily still, his silver eyes locked onto Alistair with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine. This wasn't just anger anymore. This was something deeper. Sharper.

The weight of years of silence, years of unanswered questions, years of blame, all coming to a head.

"You should have told me," Damien said at last, his voice disturbingly calm.

Alistair exhaled sharply. "And what would it have changed?"

Damien tilted his head, a slow, bitter smile curling at the edge of his lips. A smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Everything."

Alistair's fists tightened. "She made her choice."

Damien's entire body went still.

A silence stretched between them.

Then—so soft Evelyn almost didn't hear it—Damien spoke again.

"No," he murmured. "You made it for her."

Something inside Alistair cracked. Evelyn saw it in the way his jaw clenched, in the way his breathing faltered just for a second.

Velthorne let out a low, amused chuckle, the sound slicing through the tension like a blade. "Ah, this is truly fascinating. Family secrets, old wounds… betrayal."

Evelyn barely restrained herself from lunging at him.

She was done with his games.

Damien's gaze didn't waver. "Tell me the rest."

Alistair hesitated.

Velthorne, however, did not.

"She was a brave girl," he mused, tapping his chin. "Too reckless. But full of potential." He sighed dramatically. "A shame, really."

The words hit Evelyn harder than she expected.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Too reckless. Too determined.

A girl who wanted to prove herself.

The words felt too familiar.

A whisper in the back of her mind, just out of reach.

She turned sharply to Damien, searching his face for denial, for correction, for something to prove this wasn't real.

But there was nothing.

Only truth.

She existed.

She was real.

And Evelyn… should remember her.

Her hands clenched into fists.

Why couldn't she remember?

A flicker of memory flashed in her mind—laughter in the training grounds, a hand extended to pull her up after a fall, the echo of a voice saying: "Again. You're not done yet."

Evelyn gasped softly, her breath shaky.

Velthorne's gaze slid lazily to her. "Ah. It seems our dear knight is finally piecing things together."

Damien moved instantly.

Velthorne had less than a second to react before Damien was on him, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the stone pillar.

The impact sent a sickening crack through the courtyard.

Velthorne chuckled, unfazed. "There it is."

Damien's grip tightened. His silver eyes burned with pure hatred. "Say one more word."

Velthorne's smirk didn't falter. "Or what?"

The guards around them shifted uneasily.

Damien's voice was ice-cold. "Or I'll finally do what you should've expected the moment you let me live."

Evelyn took a sharp breath.

Velthorne laughed.

Laughed as if he wasn't one second away from having his throat crushed.

"Oh, Damien," he murmured. "You think I let you live out of kindness?"

Something in his tone made Evelyn's stomach churn.

Damien didn't let go. "Then why?"

Velthorne leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because I was waiting."

The words sent a ripple of tension through the air.

Damien's expression darkened.

Velthorne smiled. "I knew this day would come. You and I both knew it." His smirk widened. "The real question is… what will you do about it?"

The silence was deafening.

Damien didn't answer.

Velthorne knew.

Evelyn could see it—the way his gaze pierced straight through Damien, like he was reading something no one else could see.

Something Damien didn't want to admit.

Slowly, Damien released him.

Velthorne straightened his coat, entirely unbothered. "Good boy."

Evelyn had had enough.

She stepped forward, her voice like steel. "We're done here."

Velthorne's gaze flicked to her, amused. "Oh? And where will you go, dear knight?"

Evelyn didn't flinch. "Somewhere far from your reach."

Velthorne smirked. "Is that so?"

The challenge in his voice sent a cold warning down her spine.

He wasn't done.

Not by a long shot.

Alistair, who had remained eerily silent, finally spoke. "Let them leave."

Velthorne's brows raised slightly. "Oh? Getting sentimental?"

Alistair's expression didn't change. "They're of no use to you dead."

A flicker of something passed through Velthorne's eyes before he let out a sigh. "Fine. Go, then. But don't think this is over."

Evelyn already knew that.

This wasn't over.

Not even close.

She turned, catching Damien's gaze. "Come on."

For a moment, she thought he might argue.

But he didn't.

He followed.

They walked in silence until Velthorne's estate was nothing but a shadow in the distance.

Then, finally—Evelyn stopped.

Her chest was tight, her mind racing.

Damien waited. He didn't speak, didn't push.

She turned to him, her voice quiet. "Tell me everything."

Damien exhaled, his shoulders stiff. "You don't want to know."

"I do."

A pause.

Then, finally, Damien ran a hand through his hair, his silver eyes filled with something painful.

"It was supposed to be a simple retrieval mission," he murmured.

Evelyn swallowed.

"I was supposed to retrieve a dead dragon's body." He let out a hollow laugh. "But it wasn't dead."

The world spun.

"The mission was a setup."

She already knew where this was going.

Damien's voice was barely above a whisper. "She died protecting me."

Evelyn's chest ached.

Velthorne had sent them there to die.

And only Damien had returned.

She had spent years trying to follow in her idol's footsteps.

And all this time, her idol had been nothing but a ghost.

Evelyn exhaled shakily. "Damien."

He didn't meet her gaze.

She swallowed. "You're not the only one who lost her."

A beat of silence.

Then—finally—Damien looked at her.

And Evelyn knew.

They were bound by this now.

By a past neither of them could outrun.

By a girl whose name neither of them could speak.