Chapter 12 · The Archive of Lies

"Don't move. Not a single muscle," Mara hissed.

She pressed the edge of her vibro-blade into Cael's throat. Hard. A thin line of red bloomed against his skin.

They were jammed into a narrow gap between two obsidian data-stacks. The air tasted like ozone and rotting paper. Above them, the palace cooling system let out a low, predatory growl.

Cael didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He just leaned back against the cold metal server, his chest brushing hers. He was radiating heat—a sharp, suffocating contrast to the sterile chill of the room.

"You're shaking, Mara," he whispered. Too calm. Too steady. "Is it the blade? Or the fact that everything you believe about your brother is a lie?"

"Shut up," she snapped, digging the blade deeper. "The Inquisitor said the King is dead. Said I signed the order to wipe the Lower Districts. Tell me he was lying before I take your head off."

Cael let out a dry laugh. It vibrated against her ribs.

"The Inquisitor's a professional liar. But he didn't lie about the King. That part's true. The throne's been empty for a decade."

Mara's grip tightened.