Chapter 22 · The Fire Inside the Vial

The apothecary door didn't so much open as explode inward.

Wantang didn't bother knocking. She'd left Sephra standing in that stone room, silver ticket still in her hand, and ran. The execution order burned in her mind—two names, one crossed out. Hers. They'd planned to kill her from the start. Which meant every piece of evidence, every witness, every careful lie had been arranged.

Except Milo.

He jumped when she slammed through, knocking over a rack of glass bottles. They shattered across the floor, filling the cramped shop with the smell of alcohol and herbs. He was alone. Good.

"Lady Vey—" He threw his hands up. "I told the tribunal everything. I swear I don't—"

"You told them what Sephra wanted you to say." Wantang kicked the door shut behind her. "Where's the real vial?"

Milo's face went white. Not the flushed panic of an innocent man caught off guard. The bloodless terror of someone whose secret just walked in.

"I don't know what you mean." His voice cracked.

Wantang crossed the room in three strides. Glass crunched under her boots. She planted both hands on the counter between them and leaned in.