Chapter 37 · The Cost of a Name

"You look like you've seen a ghost, Quinn. Or maybe just your own balance sheet."

Varric sneered, stepping over a collapsed shell-soldier like he was kicking aside trash. He didn't even glance at the carnage. His eyes were locked on the Ledger in my hand. Hunger. Pure, naked hunger.

I couldn't speak. My vision was swimming in gold. The Ledger wasn't just glowing—it was screaming. Every debt I’d 'cleared' for Kaela, every scrap of loyalty I’d bought from the gutters... it hadn't vanished. It had shifted. The ink had crawled across the parchment and settled right under my name.

"What did you do?" I rasped. My throat felt like I’d swallowed a handful of glass.

Varric laughed. A dry, rattling sound. "I didn't do a thing. The book just does what it was made for. You thought you were the buyer? Silas, you're just the new collateral."

Kaela shifted beside me. She was shaking, her breath coming in jagged, desperate hitches. She looked at me—really looked at me—and for the first time, the defiance was gone. Just raw, bleeding pity.

Her fingers brushed my wrist.