Jhed stood outside the house.
The door was closed. Inside — silence. He'd been staring at it for a while now, not moving.
"I'm not a coward," he said to himself. "I just don't care about anyone. That's different."
But his feet hadn't moved.
They raised me for fifteen years. Linea. Mendriya. Kept me fed, kept me hidden, kept me alive.
And if I stay — my life gets harder. More dangerous. More complicated.
I'm sorry.
He lowered his head. Then turned and walked away. The cloth from the jail cell was wrapped around his face again — taken from one of the bodies, the only disguise he had.
Elsewhere in the city, Mite moved through the streets with a line of guards behind him, checking every alley, every doorway.
Inside the fortress, Nain stood before Miruth.
Alone.
"Ha ha — you really are something," Miruth said, leaning back on his throne. "You walked back in here on your own."
"Release my father," Nain said.
Her voice didn't shake.
"Get her," Miruth said simply.
"Nain — go." Luccos's voice came from the corner, hoarse and urgent. "Leave. Don't worry about me. Just go."
"If you take your father and walk out that door—" Miruth's tone stayed pleasant— "I'll kill everyone left in this city. Every last one. How does that sound?"
He smiled.
"Consider it a trade. Your father's freedom, for their lives."
Nain looked at him.
Then she walked to Luccos and took his arm.
"Let's go, Dad."
"Nain — he'll kill them—"
"Then let him," she said. No expression. No hesitation.
Miruth started clapping slowly.
"Remarkable." He looked at Luccos. "You see that? Your daughter is smarter than you are. You've been bleeding for these people — and she sees them clearly." He tilted his head. "That's why you're still alive, Luccos. Because somewhere in you, there's still something worth watching."
"You're a monster," Luccos said.
"And you're a king who lost his kingdom." Miruth stood. "A slave with a noble title."
"You serve someone too, Miruth." Luccos met his eyes. "Don't pretend otherwise."
Something shifted in Miruth's face.
His expression went flat.
"I serve no one."
"Then what is that power of yours? Who gave it to you?"
"It was given to me." Miruth's voice had dropped. "That doesn't make me anyone's slave."
He stared at Luccos.
Then Luccos dropped.
No warning. He simply collapsed — folding at the knees and hitting the floor.
"Dad—" Nain caught him, half-kneeling. "What did you do to him?"
"He talks too much," Miruth said. "He's not dead. Just resting."
Nain looked up at him.
Then she raised both hands.
"Fire Goddess — grant me your power. Rain fire upon him."
Fireballs erupted from her palms — small, rapid, relentless. They hit Miruth in the chest, the shoulders, the face.
He stood through all of it.
When the last one faded, he looked down at himself. Brushed something off his sleeve.
"Foolish girl," he said. "Did you really think that would work on me?"
He raised one hand.
Nain dropped.
The throne room went quiet again.
Miruth looked at the two of them on the floor — father and daughter, both unconscious — and shook his head slowly.
"Entertaining," he said. "At least it was entertaining."