Chapter 28: Serious Talk, Toilet Excuse

Aelith was guiding us through yet another marble-and-oak corridor when Arkanthos finally decided to croak up in my head.

Mistress… his voice echoed, dry as parchment, smug as always.

Bony, I shot back immediately. It had been a while since I’d used the nickname, and honestly, I missed it. Why did I ever stop calling you that? Oh right—probably because I was starting to tolerate you, and that felt wrong. Anyway, shut it. I noticed it too. I’m not as thick as these elves who can spend five thousand years staring at a tree and calling it history.

Arkanthos chuckled in that way only a skull can. As you wish, Mistress. But I am satisfied you noticed. That is enough.

“Aelith, darling,” I said suddenly, flashing my most innocent grin, “is there a service nearby? My stomach’s been staging a rebellion since we left Thalosir, and your endless elven fanfare hasn’t exactly… loosened things. You wouldn’t mind accompanying me, would you?” I laced it with just enough flirt to make Serine twitch.

For the first time since we’d met her, Aelith’s perfect composure cracked. She pulled a face like I’d asked her to polish my boots with her hair. “There is… a service here at the corner,” she said carefully. “But I do not think I should… accompany you.”

“Oh, come on,” I whined, clutching my stomach dramatically. “I’ll get lost. You wouldn’t abandon me, would you? Fine, fine… if you won’t, then—” I turned sharply. “Cassian, you’ll come with me. Please? I need your strong moral support while I, you know, commune with nature through porcelain.” I winked, loud enough to make Serine groan.

Cassian didn’t even blink. He knew me too well to think this was about digestion.

Serine crossed her arms, suspicion written all over her face. Aelith still looked horrified, caught somewhere between scandalized and trying not to laugh.

“Wait here,” I said cheerfully, already looping my arm through Cassian’s. “We’ll be right back. Don’t have too much fun without us.”

I pulled Cassian down the corridor, boots echoing, until we rounded a corner out of sight. He finally exhaled.

“What’s going on?” he asked flatly.

I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, smirking. “Relax, Cassie. You don’t think I’d drag you away from Serine and Miss Golden-Hair just for a toilet break, right? Please. Give me more credit.”

“Something’s wrong,” Cassian finished.

“Exactly.” I jabbed a finger at him. “See, this is why you’re my favorite puppy. You catch on.·”

Cassian’s jaw tightened. “Do you think it has to do with Aelith?”

“Oh, you mean the gorgeous sunshine sprite who shows up out of nowhere, bats her lashes at you, and drags us straight to the carpenter king?” I raised a brow. “Nooo, how silly of you to be suspicious.”

“Rissa.”

I sighed, tilting my head back against the wall. “Yes, I think so. Too neat. Too perfect. My gut’s twitching, and you know my gut. It’s never wrong unless I’ve been drinking questionable liquor.”

Cassian’s lips twitched, but he kept his tone serious. “Then we stay alert.”

“Exactly,” I said, pushing off the wall and jabbing Cassian in the chest hard enough that he actually flinched. “But… not exactly. You watch Serine. And I don’t mean now. I mean always. If the day ever comes when I see you again and she’s not as good as now—or better—you’re dead. Dead, dead, dead. Got it?”

I’d never heard my own voice that sharp before. Threats were usually my bread and butter, but this one wasn’t wrapped in sarcasm or humor. This one had teeth.

Cassian paled. “What do you mean by that?” His tone wavered, and it hit me that he was genuinely afraid—not of me, but of the weight behind my words. He knew I wasn’t joking.

“You’ll see,” I muttered, low and final. “Soon enough.”

Before he could press me, I dug into my bag and pulled out Arkanthos. The skull blinked—or maybe that was just my imagination—and for once, he didn’t quip. I shoved him into Cassian’s hands.

“Take him. He’ll help you.”

“Wait, what—”

“Arkanthos,” I cut him off.

The sockets of the skull seemed to darken. His voice rang with old gravity: “Yes, Mistress. I have no doubts. In my honor as Arkanthos Veylarion of the Three Suns, Grand Custodian of the Empire of Eryndralith, I swear: no harm will come to Lord Cassian or Lady Serine while I am in their care. This I vow upon my skull.”

And then, with the kind of ceremonial pomp that only a dead man can muster, he let Cassian take him.

I sniffed, folding my arms. “Good. Now guard him well—and don’t let him get scratched. He’s low on calcium.”

Cassian stared at me, completely at a loss, the skull heavy in his arms. Then, after a beat, he tucked Arkanthos carefully into his own bag. He understood. Maybe not the details, but the seriousness.

We walked back together, silence hanging between us, sharp as a blade.

When we turned the corner, Serine was waiting, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. Aelith leaned against the wall, her smile infuriatingly playful.

“What took you so long?” Aelith teased, her golden hair catching the torchlight like she’d staged the moment just to taunt me. “I was starting to think you two had gotten… distracted.”

“Please,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “The only thing distracting Cassian was the smell. Royal plumbing isn’t nearly as glamorous as you elves pretend.”

Serine’s suspicious stare softened just a little—though her jealousy was still simmering under the surface. Cassian, for his part, said absolutely nothing, his bag now heavier in more ways than one.

I plastered on a grin. “Well then, puppies. Shall we go find out how elves throw a banquet? My bet’s on too many leafy salads and not nearly enough wine.”