The clash of fists and grunts had already drawn eyes by the time Starling rounded the edge of the training yard. Ridge and Jacek were a tangle of limbs and fury, neither pulling punches, both too angry to care who saw. Vasha was there too, grabbing at Jacek's arm and trying to yank him back. Starling stepped in as well, and Jacek elbowed her - hard - square in the cheekbone. Starling let out a curse, reeling back with her hand to her face.
"Fucking stop!" Starling barked, her voice low but sharp enough to cut.
Vasha wedged herself between them, taking a shoulder in each hand and shoving hard. "Enough!"
Jacek struggled, still thrashing for another swing, but Starling was there beside her again, one hand pressed to her swelling eye, the other helping to haul Ridge backward. The two men glared at each other like dogs with bloody muzzles. Starling and Vasha gave each other a glance - brief, wordless, but clear: Contain it. Fast.
More than a few Crows were watching now. The yard had fallen into a tense hush. Just as Jacek was about to say something - probably something that would only make things worse - Handler Wren strode across the stones like a blade on legs. Her voice cracked like a whip.
"Break it up," she snapped, eyes narrowing on all of them. "Unless you want me dragging your arses to Caterina myself. You think you can't be replaced? You can. Remember that."
They muttered agreements and scatterings of "Yes, Ma'am" and "Won't happen again," like schoolchildren caught passing knives in class. Wren's stare lingered long enough to singe before she finally turned and walked off.
Jacek gave Ridge a final venomous look before storming away. Vasha shook her head and followed him. Starling turned to Ridge, clutching her swelling eye.
She kept her voice low, too quiet to carry. "What the fuck was that about?"
Ridge didn't answer immediately, dragging a sleeve over his mouth to wipe away a smear of blood. "He thinks we need to silence Alis."
The words hit like a stone dropped into her gut. Starling stared at him, heart stuttering, breath shallow. She didn't need to ask what he meant by "silence."
"Fuck…" she whispered.
Ridge looked away, jaw clenched. "I'm not even sure he's wrong."
She felt the sharp edge of panic slide down her spine. Jacek's rashness was one thing. Ridge doubting? That was dangerous.
"Fuck," she hissed again, harsher this time, hand digging into her hair.
Ridge straightened, breath still heavy. "I'll talk to her. Try to calm her down."
Starling nodded once, grateful but fraying at the seams. He left, heading toward the mess, and Starling turned and walked fast through the hall. She didn't care who saw her now. She had to move, had to think, had to make sure no one else died. Deaths would bring questions.
She slipped out into the streets and didn't stop until she was at Cade's door, knocking in a rhythm he'd know. When the door opened, she stepped in without a word. Her hands were trembling.
--
They'd followed her from the Hall, steps light, shadows their allies. She hadn't seen them. Too wound up in her own thoughts to notice the flicker of movement behind her, the occasional shift of streetlight catching Lucanis's buckles or the faint rustle of Viago's coat. Good for them. Not so good for her.
That kind of tension dulled instincts that should've been razor-sharp. It also said something else - whatever she was walking into had her shaken. They watched from across the street as she climbed the narrow back stairs of a tailor's shop. A familiar figure opened the door.
Cade. Lucanis's jaw twitched.
Viago could practically feel the older man cataloguing the interaction with surgical precision. He knew that look. Lucanis didn't speak. The narrowing of his eyes, the way his fingers flexed once, slowly, said it all: Why him? Why here? Why now?
They edged closer, keeping to the shadow, until they found a small side window mostly hidden by the angle of the building and a trailing vine. Just enough of a gap to peer in. Inside, the light was warm but dim, and the small flat looked cramped with even two people in it. Starling stood near the centre, pacing like a caged fox, her hands gesturing tightly as she spoke. Cade was more still, his arms crossed until he stepped forward.
His hand rose, fingers brushing gently under her eye. Even from here, Viago saw the mottled purple beginning to bloom across her cheekbone. Cade handed her something, a cold cloth, and she pressed it to the spot without a word.
Lucanis's breath came sharp through his nose beside him. They couldn't hear a word, but the tension was palpable. Not the tension of lovers. Not tonight. This was something heavier. Secretive and urgent. Cade wasn't trying to seduce her. He looked worried. And Starling looked tired. Bone-deep.
Viago leaned in a little closer, studying her posture. One shoulder hunched slightly, defensive. She wasn't open here. Not fully. But she was there, and that meant something.
"What do you think?" Viago asked quietly.
Lucanis didn't answer for a beat.
"Cade knows something," he said eventually. "They've been close. But this isn't about him. She's definitely in something."
Viago nodded slowly. "Could be the others, too. Vasha, Ridge. It's too many names to be coincidence."
"You think it's all of them?" Lucanis's voice was flat and tense.
Viago watched as Starling sank into a chair, her fingers pressing harder against the cloth at her face. Cade sat across from her, elbows on his knees, head low. Starling hadn't said a word in several minutes, just pressed the cloth to her face, her body wound tight. This was the kind of tension that lived in the bones. The kind that started to shake you loose from the inside out.
Viago shifted slightly to avoid the splintered edge of the windowsill digging into his ribs. He glanced sidelong at Lucanis, who hadn't moved in minutes. Just watching. His eyes were dark, cold and calculating.
"It could have just been four of them," Viago murmured, "and the rest are helping cover their tracks. Loyalty, maybe. Or blackmail."
Lucanis didn't respond immediately. His gaze hadn't left the small, warm-lit room. Cade said something then, quiet and slow, and Starling shook her head. She looked exhausted.
Lucanis exhaled hard through his nose. "I still don't understand why Elihu ran and the others stayed."
His voice was edged but low. Quiet enough not to carry. Viago tilted his head slightly, watching Starling close her eyes and lean back in the chair. He almost expected her to fall asleep sitting up.
"There's always the sliver of possibility," Viago said, "that whatever's going on here has nothing to do with our dead diplomat."
Lucanis didn't even blink. Viago didn't believe it either. But it had to be said. For a moment, they both just listened to the murmur of voices through glass, the wind catching on nearby roof tiles, the city carrying on oblivious to the treason brewing beneath its skin.
Then Viago spoke again, a little drier. "At least she's not sleeping with someone else."
That earned him a look from Lucanis. Flat and unreadable. But it didn't linger long. The older man looked back at the window, and a slow nod followed.
"Conceded."
Viago leaned back just a bit. The knot in his gut hadn't eased. Because if she wasn't fucking someone else, that meant she was keeping something else from them. Something big. Something dangerous.
They stayed just long enough to see her press the cloth to her eye again, to watch Cade lean forward, murmur something that made her shake her head slowly, tiredly. A few more quiet words passed between them before she handed back the cloth and stood.
Lucanis shifted beside him the moment she did, silent as a shadow, and the two of them peeled away from the window before she reached the door. They moved through the alley in tandem, trailing far enough behind not to be noticed. She didn't return to the Hall. Or to Cade's. She headed west, toward the darker end of the market district, where taverns smelled of sour wine and bad decisions. But Starling didn't veer toward the front door of any of them.
Instead, she turned sharply down a narrow alley beside one. Viago and Lucanis exchanged a look, then followed. Quiet and quick.
She knocked twice on a weather-beaten door tucked into the brick. A slide of metal, a grunt, then the door opened and shut again behind her. No sign. No welcome. Just a side entrance in the back of a building that looked half-condemned.
Viago's brow lifted. "She doesn't seem the tavern type."
Lucanis grunted. "She's not here for ale."
It didn't take long to scale the side of the building, too many footholds made it almost easy. They climbed fast and low, stopping when they reached the narrow ledge beneath the third-floor dormer.
Inside, soft amber light spilled across worn floorboards. Starling stood at the centre of the room, already peeling off her leathers piece by piece. There was no hesitation in her movements, just that bone-deep weariness.
Viago didn't feel guilty for watching. He probably should have. But he didn't. Her shirt slipped from her shoulders, the muscles in her back flexing as she shook out her hair. She caught sight of herself in the cloudy mirror, her fingers brushing gently along the mottled purple at her cheekbone. A quiet wince. No theatrics. No self-pity. Just a long breath before she pulled on a loose tunic, dropped to the floor and unsheathed her daggers. She sat cross-legged in the centre of the room, bare feet tucked beneath her, steel resting across her thighs. The sharpening stone whispered rhythmically against the blade.
Viago watched the tight lines of her body slowly begin to ease. A form of meditation. A return to centre. He'd seen it before in men far older and more broken than her. In women who had survived things best left unspoken.
Lucanis leaned in close. "That's her bolt hole."
Viago nodded. The room was small, neat. No decorations. The bed barely wide enough for one. The kind of place you rented when you didn't want to be known and just needed a roof and a lock on the door.
"She's not leaving tonight."
Lucanis was already moving. Viago took one last look before following him down the side of the building. They landed quietly, their boots touching down in unison.
Viago exhaled through his nose. "So. She's hiding. Carrying bruises. Keeping secrets. Sleeping alone."
Lucanis gave a clipped nod. "We'll deal with it."
Viago didn't ask how. Not yet. Because first, they had to figure out who Starling was trying to protect. And whether she'd let them protect her back.