Liora felt the familiar presence of Captain Valiar as he entered the room. She sat beside Avon, her gaze drifting across his face without her quite realizing it, as she pondered what had moved him to carry out the night's rescue. 

"What has happened here? Are you unharmed?" Valiar said, a faint catch in his voice .

"You have failed me in your duty, Valiar. The warning about the threat to my life was graver than you believed," Liora said without lifting her gaze from Avon.

"But our sources reported no threats, your own spi" He was reaching, she knew, for the network of informants Inera kept among every enemy worth the name, but got no further. 

"Enough." Liora turned, and her eyes burned. She had no time for excuses. "It is not certain the threat is over. Summon the full guard, sweep the grounds, and see to it that every body is removed. One of the assassins was thrown from my window, do not forget to clear him away. Within the hour, every trace is to be gone. The story we put out is that four men attempted to breach my chambers and failed, and that they died when the attempt was thwarted."

"Yes, my lady," Valiar said, his voice stripped of feeling. "But you mean five." His gaze shifted to Avon, who lay groaning from the fever.

"Him you mention to no one. Leave now." Liora's voice left no room for protest. She had already turned from him, her thoughts on the man before her. As the captain departed, Liora's chambermaid returned with Viara trailing behind her.

"Thank you for coming so quickly," Liora said to the healer. "I have drawn out the dagger and closed the wound, but the poison still ravages him. He burns with fever." She did not release Avon from her gaze as she spoke, telling herself she was indebted to him. He had saved her life. 

Viara examined the dagger, brought it to her nose, and let it fall back to the floor. Then she sat beside Avon and took his head between her hands. Avon groaned and tried, in his fevered haze, to pull away, but Viara held firm and quieted him with a low, hushing tone.

Liora sat on a divan opposite him, watching Viara work, observing the currents of arcane energy flow into the man who had just saved her life. Her hands traced the velvet of the divan when something clattered behind her. She turned sharply and found a guard looking back at her with a faintly apologetic expression. His halberd lay on the floor where he had set it down carelessly, freeing his hands to haul out one of the assassins' bodies. Liora felt herself exhale, a breath that had caught without her noticing. 

“I cannot determine which poison they used, and without that it is hard to do much of anything. He would have needed an antidote, but identifying the poison would take hours. By then it would be too late." she said in a matter-of-fact tone. "If he survives the next few hours, he will likely recover. I have done what I can to give him the chance. He looks young. If his heart is strong, perhaps."

Liora did not like that word. She felt a sharp need to reclaim control after the night's attack, and perhaps was yet another variable she could not influence. She looked away briefly before her gaze returned to Viara. 

"What can I do for him in the meantime?" A trace of frustration leaked into the question. 

"I will have him brought to the infirmary so we can watch over him through the night," Viara continued.

"No. He stays here. I asked what I can do for him." 

Viara turned to her chambermaid as she spoke. 

"All you can really do is try to get water into him if he wakes. Keep him cool as well, perhaps bathe him with a damp cloth from time to time."

"Thank you, Viara, for coming. Your services have been invaluable. I want you to stop by tomorrow and look in on him." Liora said, ending the conversation. 

She glanced around the room. During the conversation and the treatment, the guards had carried the bodies away. Only a little tidying remained, and then everything would be set right, with nothing left to recall the violence of the night.

Shortly after Viara left the room, Captain Valiar returned. The Captain of her household guard stood over six feet tall and broad-shouldered in a way few men were. Today, after the night's events Liora felt his towering presence more than usual. She sought his eyes and saw in them a sharp focus that found no contrast of softness in his hard dark-toned face. She read the stiffness in his expression as wounded pride.  

The man had refused to accept Avon's warning. He had dismissed it because their own network had registered no warning signs.  A little wounded pride would do him good. Once he had suffered and learned his lesson, she could begin to mend the damage to their trust, but not before.

"We have searched the entire grounds and found no assassins. I have stationed guards in the room they came through and below the balcony. I will place another two on the balcony itself.” He said, 

"Thank you, captain. The guards outside my chambers will suffice. I will not sleep tonight, and until I know more I want fewer eyes in this suite, not more. Any sign of who is behind the attack?"

"We have identified them as Yruks, but none of them survived, and there was nothing in their clothes or their belongings to suggest who hired them," he answered, while Liora's gaze drifted to the dagger and the medallion lying on a table further into the room.

"How did they get onto the grounds?"

"We found four empty wine barrels, dry inside. They appear to have come in with a delivery, then made their way up from the storeroom to the room beside your suite. We found a kitchen hand dead in there. I will have two of my men carry your guest to the infirmary," he said, gesturing at Avon, done with his report.

"Avon stays with me, and neither you nor your guards will speak his name or mention that anyone besides myself and my chambermaid is in my suite. Thank you. You may go."

 "Yes, my lady," he replied and left her suite.

Liora turned to her chambermaid, Tara, and looked her deep in the eyes. She let Tara take in the full weight of her gaze.

"The instructions to the captain apply to you as well, Tara. No one is to know that Avon is here, or that he saved my life." Liora trusted Tara. They had grown up together, and she was certain Tara would die before she would betray her.

"I understand, Liora. I am just glad you are unharmed." Tara always used Liora's first name when they were alone. Liora noticed a tremor in her voice. 

"Fetch water and a towel. Then you can go find that guard you've been amusing yourself with. It might be nice not to be alone tonight."

"Who will look after him if I do not?"

"I will," Liora said, sitting down beside him and gently brushing the dampness from his forehead with the sleeve of her dress.

A while later, Liora made her way onto the balcony and looked out over the city. The servants had left some time ago, and the suite was fully restored to its original state. A few ornaments were missing, broken in the struggle and not yet replaced. From the balcony she could hear Avon's feverish groans from the chaise longue. She could see him from where she stood, which gave her a sense of control. She allowed herself to take in the silence, a silence that only settled over the city a while after midnight, when most had moved toward the realm of sleep.

She leaned against the balcony railing and let her fingers trail along the smooth marble. She felt calm and a little detached. She had always been like this in crisis.  With that thought fading, Liora let her gaze wander across the horizon. She turned her mind towards who might be behind the attempt on her life. For some reason, the parties she would naturally have suspected all struck her as unlikely. The other Vaults, for instance. The Vaults conspired against one another often, but since Syndicate law made it impossible for any Vault to seize control of another, those conspiracies were political in nature. They tended to involve pushing through a bill that favored one's own Vault, or voting down a specific action that would have made another Vault too powerful. The Vault of Thorns currently held only one open disagreement within the Syndicate, and that was with the Vault of Flame, who had put forward a proposal to intervene in the civil war in the Kingdom of Bryzans. Her Vault opposed it, holding to the standing position that the Syndicate should, as far as possible, stay out of the internal affairs of nations.

She set the Vault of Flame aside, for several reasons. First, her Vault had always opposed interventions in the affairs of other nations. It was a policy that would not shift with new leadership. Had something happened to Liora, her mother would have returned from their holdings in the east and pursued the same line. As a rule, the Vault of Flame sought support for such actions from other parties within the Syndicate. Their direct involvement was unlikely. They had nothing to gain from her death. Her absence from the council chamber was another matter, and she had to admit it would have served them well enough today. 

She turned so that she stood with her back to the city, a light breeze playing with her hair. She let her left hand limit the wind's chances for mischief, winding the strands around her fingers again and again. A habit she fell into when she was thinking. While her fingers worked at a steady, calming rhythm, she let her thoughts return to who lay behind the attack.

Other nations could be ruled out by similar reasoning. There were no real conflicts to point to at the moment. Her Vault kept very much to itself, and the few disputes that did exist would not be shifted by her death. 

There was something in the way the assassins had entered the palace grounds, in their method as they worked their way through the building, that did not sit right with her. Too deliberate, too clinical, and not a soul had noticed them as they moved through all those corridors and stairwells... 

She heard the wind playing in the leaves. Beyond that, silence lay heavy over the Tower. She drew a deep breath and straightened. The attempt on her life had been set in motion from within her own Vault. She could not explain why, or how she could be so certain. There was nothing concrete to point to. But her thoughts were no longer working toward a conclusion. They were circling one she had already reached. 

Removing the dragonpin, she let both of her hands run through her hair. If it was an internal action, it also had to be one of several planned moves. Removing her was not enough, because her mother would then resume control of the Vault. She would therefore task Captain Valiar with sending a message to her mother, warning her that her life was in danger as well.

The key to several of the plans now beginning to take shape in her mind twisted in his feverish sleep and was close to rolling off the chaise longue. She moved her hand absently and caught him with a careful current of air, settling him back into place as she returned to his side. She needed him, she admitted to herself. He had information she had not been able to draw out of him during their brief meeting when he delivered the warning. Information he surely had no wish to give. How had he managed to come by intelligence that her own network of spies and informants knew nothing about? Did he know more than that? 

She bathed Avon's forehead with the damp cloth while she went on simulating scenarios. She wanted to be prepared for every eventuality, every possible outcome. But her simulations were cut short when Avon's eyes suddenly opened.

"Where am I?" he asked, his voice drained of energy as he made an attempt to sit up.

"You are with Liora El Vanir, in her rooms, in the Tower of Azur," Her voice gentled, almost without her noticing. She pressed him back down with one hand. It took no more force than that. With the other, she reached for a glass of water and brought it to him. He drank quickly and greedily, so she refilled it. He drained it as well. Good.

"I remember, though it feels more like a dream now." He began to push himself up. "But I need to move on from here. I hope I have not been too much of a burden."

Liora pressed two careful hands against his chest and pushed him back down onto the chaise longue.

"You are not going anywhere. You need to rest," she said. She leaned forward and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, her eyes meeting his. His eyes were ice blue, but when his gaze met hers, she thought they softened a little and took on a deeper shade. For some reason she began to hum a melody from her childhood, something that seemed to calm him. He closed his eyes and slipped back into his feverish slumber. 

Liora settled more comfortably beside him and leaned back, unaware of where her gaze drifted. She let her thoughts shape every possible future as far ahead as she could reach. The concept of sleep did not enter her mind. 

Avon slept fitfully through the rest of the night under Liora's watchful gaze. He woke a few times and drank some water. During the brief moments he was awake, they exchanged little more than short courtesies, and she was grateful he had abandoned any notion of trying to leave. 

In the morning, Tara and Valiar returned for fresh instructions. She received them in her audience hall so Avon could sleep relatively undisturbed. The rooms shared a wall, so she remained close enough to hear him if he woke.

"How has the night gone? Have you learned anything about how Avon came to know of the attempt?" Valiar asked in a tone Liora found stiff. The implication was clear enough. Valiar believed it suspicious that Avon had known, as if he might be part of some elaborate plot in which saving her was merely a way to earn her trust. To her, the idea was absurd.

"No, Valiar, we have barely spoken. He will survive, of that I am certain, since he has been awake in short stretches, but I have made no attempt to question him. Viara is going to come by this morning to look in on him. We will know more after that, but I have good hopes of getting answers during the day. I have also sent for Inera. We need her to understand why we received no warning before last night's events. We shall see if she appears." Liora chose a deliberately even tone. Since this was an internal attempt on her life, she could not yet rule anyone out. She trusted her instincts and her ability to read people enough to find it deeply unlikely that anyone close to her was involved, but every one of them would still have to be examined and scrutinized. If Inera had betrayed her, the chances of her answering the summons were slim, but that remained to be seen.

"I too want to exchange words with the spymaster”. He said but left the “why” hanging. “I would still prefer to place guards with you so that you are not alone with him. We do not know if we can trust him or what his intentions were."

"We know he sacrificed himself to save my life. For now, that is enough. Guards outside my door will suffice, thank you." She had no intention of telling him that she suspected an internal coup, and that this was why she did not trust her own guard. The only person she could fully rely on at the moment was, in fact, Avon. While she was awake, the matter was less pressing. She was more than capable of defending herself. But sooner or later she would need to sleep, and then she would need to know who could be trusted to watch over her. "I also need to be seen, to avoid rumors that the attack succeeded or that I was wounded. A short escorted walk to the council chamber and back should suffice."

"That would be unwise at present. We have no clear sense of who wishes you harm or when a second attempt may come." Valiar scratched at his beard as he spoke, a frown creasing his forehead 

"That may be so, Captain, but if rumor spreads that I am wounded, the risk of an attack only grows, and there are political consequences as well. Since this would be an unplanned appearance, the risks should be minimal. I will summon you when it is time." She disliked having to argue the point further, but it was unavoidable, and she had no wish to tell anyone when she intended to leave her suite.

"We would need to know when in order to ensure the area is clear," he replied.

"If you begin sweeping the area, an attentive assassin may realize I plan to appear and act accordingly. That only raises the risk. Nor do I know precisely when I will have the time. I will send for you. Thank you. That will be all." 

Valiar straightened, saluted, and left the suite at a brisk pace. Liora wondered how long it would be before he submitted his resignation, even as she rose to return to the private rooms of her suite.

"Must you be so blunt with him?" Tara asked carefully. "He only means well."

"He needs to learn to face his own mistakes and swallow his pride. I need a flexible Captain, not someone who keeps making the same errors." The irritation from her conversation with the captain bled into Liora's voice.

When she entered the adjoining room, she was met by Avon sitting forward on the chaise, his hands braced on both sides of him. What drew her attention, however, was his gaze. His ice-blue eyes were fully open, and the focus in them impressed her. It was a look that cut straight through to the soul. She could feel his presence physically, as though the room had grown smaller. She met the gaze, and saw it register with him that she could. 

"Your captain does not seem to care for me much." A hint of a smile danced across his lips. She noted a weariness in his voice, but given that he had wrestled with death only hours earlier, it was impressively steady. It surprised her that he was honest about having listened in. "Taking a Kandori blade meant for you is not enough to earn his trust, I see."

Avon felt enormously worn, not only in body but in spirit. In his youth he had learned a trick, a way to quickly force the body into fever, something that had saved him from various poisons several times over the years. It was not entirely reliable, however, and he suspected that various healing efforts may also have been the difference between life and death this time. 

"My captain is naturally nervous and suspicious of everything after the events of the night." Avon noted that Liora's voice was cool without being unpleasant. She protected her own, despite the mistakes that had been made. Interesting. "Tara, you may leave us. Avon and I have some matters to discuss." As Tara left the room, Liora settled onto a chaise across from Avon. Her body language was relaxed, but Avon caught the trace of a movement he read as the start of folding her arms beneath her breasts before she thought better of it.

"That may be, and it is understandable after a night such as this, but I can see you have come to a realization at least," he said, that smile dancing across his lips again.

"And what realization is that?" Liora smiled a little as well. He shifted the side he was leaning on, meaning to play it nonchalant. As he braced against his arm, the whole arm shook. He hated being this weak, but chose to pretend nothing had happened.

"That I, right now, am the only person you can trust," he said it with a touch of arrogance, as though it were self-evident. Avon noted that she had leaned back, braced on her arms. A tactical move, since it pressed her chest forward against the modestly cut dress. He had to admit, reluctantly, that she was beautiful, and it was not without difficulty that he let her go from his gaze and instead looked out toward the sunrise. 

Liora studied Avon. She had noticed the slight tremor when he shifted the arm he leaned on, a weakness he had pretended away. He did not want to seem weak in front of her. But that smile. Every time it danced across his lips, she lost her focus. She had tried to play him by choosing a more sensual posture, but he had turned his gaze out toward the sunrise. Interesting.

"It seems I have certain loyalties to untangle, but I am curious, Avon, after having nursed and cared for you all night, what is it that you know?" There was no point pretending the claim was untrue. She saw that her answer landed well, a millisecond of surprise before his composure caught up. "When you warned me, you were not particularly forthcoming." Avon laughed shortly at that and looked at her with those intense ice-blue eyes.

"Hard to be forthcoming when you are dismissed on the spot," he smiled. The man had, however, shown remarkably poor timing. He had approached her while she was in conversation with one of their most important trade partners, and she had not wanted to unsettle that partner.

"You will not be dismissed now. Let me hear it," Liora said, and saw that he understood he needed to give her something.

His gaze shifted. The playfulness fell away and was replaced by an authenticity she was not entirely prepared for.

"There are parts of this that are difficult for me to share. I hope you understand that I have to protect my employer's identity," he began, and she gave a half-nod that she understood. She had already concluded that he was not a merchant. "It all started when a magical shipment went missing from a supplier. My employer was contacted to recover the shipment and deal with those who had taken it. Shipments go missing now and then, as I am sure you know yourself, so the fact that they chose to contact my employer to retrieve it suggests the value was considerable. What the shipment contained, the supplier would not say, and my employer, who owed him a favor, did not ask."

As he spoke Liora took in every piece of information, what he said, his tone and his body language. He was choosing to walk her through this in sequence, and she noted the choice. 

"The shipment was the daggers and the medallions," Liora cut in. Avon smiled briefly, but a normal smile this time, not that arrogant, mischievous one from before.

"I cannot actually confirm that. We never learned what it was, but I agree it was most likely the case." She understood from his tone and the way he said it that he had made the same connection. "We found the shipment and those who had stolen it through pure luck. One of my colleagues is from The Golden Sands and recognized an Eshandier. You have likely mistaken the assassins for being from Yruk. The two are very similar in complexion, and Eshandier rarely come this far north, if ever. In any case, my colleague grew curious and followed the Eshandier to their hiding place. From the conversation they had, it became clear that everything was in the shipment, and that, in their words, the princess will soon be dead. My colleague left another to keep watch and came straight to me for reinforcements so we could retrieve the items. When we arrived, his friend was dead and they were gone."

Liora noted that Avon recounted the story without any deeper emotional reaction. It was clear to her that this kind of death did not trouble him.

"I sent my colleague back with instructions for my employer to contact the supplier, to find out who had ordered the items and who had crafted them. Since it appeared to be a specific shipment, we needed to start looking at where in the chain the Eshandier had received their information about it." Avon turned his gaze toward the balcony and looked out into the morning sun. "Then I came here to warn you, since there is no other 'princess' in the city. I never had time to get any word back about the supplier."

Liora understood that he had left parts of the truth out, but this was enough. It was clear to her that she did not need to know who his employer was at present, though she did get the sense that this someone had sent Avon to save her. 

Without thinking about what she was doing, she began winding the strands of her hair around her fingers. The conversation lulled, and Avon studied her, waiting for a reaction. Liora barely noticed the silence and let what he had said settle in her.

He had given her exactly the information she needed. Even if the information itself provided very few answers, she now knew that Avon and his colleagues had not picked up on anything Inera should have seen. That didn't mean she was cleared, but she was not yet condemned either. 

"Interesting. You still need to rest. Once you've recovered, you need to contact your sources and see what they've learned about the supplier. That's the clearest lead we have right now." She said it as if she were a little distracted, her mind elsewhere, a deliberate attempt to irritate him. If she could throw him off balance, persuading him to help her would come easier.

"So you need my help, my lady, and you think you'll get it without asking nicely?" That arrogant, mischievous smile was back. Her attempt to unsettle him had failed entirely. "Well, in this case we do actually share an interest. I need the delivery you have in your possession, and I need to know who is behind the theft. Before that, though, I would be grateful for some food and a bath."

"Of course, and after that you will rest. Preferably sleep. I will prepare for the coming days while you do." Liora ignored the remark about asking nicely. The irritation he had managed to draw out of her was itself irritating. It was her tactic, and he had turned it back on her with disarming ease. She summoned servants and ordered both food and a bath. Then she sat down across from him again. The dagger he had called Kandori lay on the table between them.

"You said it was a Kandori blade," she said, her voice inviting. He leaned forward and picked up the knife that only hours earlier had been buried in his shoulder. She was struck by how quickly he had recovered.

"Yes. A type of blade that often has a material etched into it that shorts out magic, the same kind the medallions are made from. A knife, though, you have to forge, which requires a different technique entirely. Much harder to get right. The medallions, as you know, turn up here and there, but a knife like this I have never seen before. Only heard of." He sounded almost wondering. "I'll be taking this one from you as partial payment. Only fair, considering you pulled it out of me." The smile played across his lips.

"By all means, Avon. Consider it a consolation prize. If you fail at what I've now set before you, at least you'll have a knife to show your employer." Liora's voice was teasing, and she let out a small laugh. Avon shifted onto his other arm, his brows drawing together for a moment before he smiled again. Liora noted she had won one of three tonight.

"For my lady's information, I rarely fail. If ever."  

Viara came by before either the bath or the food could be brought to him. She examined him carefully, a skeptical expression on her face and a questioning look in her eyes, all while muttering that it was not possible and something that sounded like "should be dead." In the end she declared that the poison must have been of a milder sort than she had believed, and that he only needed a few weeks of rest before he would be fully recovered. Avon nodded and thanked her politely, but at the same time thought to himself that he did not have weeks to rest. A day or two more, perhaps.

After the examination, the servants finally prepared a bath in Liora's bedchamber. Avon, who was not shy, began stripping off his sweat-soaked clothes at once. The garments were swiftly gathered up by the servants and carried away to be washed. Liora, seemingly unbothered by Avon's nakedness, sat down on the bed with her gaze turned toward the adjoining room. She did not look directly at him as he stepped into the bath, but neither did she turn her back fully to him.

"It will be interesting to hear what your spymaster has to say in her defense. That she didn't catch a single hint of tonight's attack feels troubling, for several reasons." Avon savored the warm water, and a certain pleasure crept into his voice. Liora turned toward him now that the more intimate parts of his body were beneath the water.

"Yes. Either her informants are entirely misplaced, or she is a traitor. It would be useful if you listened in on the conversation so you can give me your reading of it afterward." Liora replied. "Whether Inera is a tool we can use or not will determine how we proceed."

Avon felt tired, and the warm water made him drowsy. Instead of answering, he let the heat wash over him and ease the ache in his sore muscles. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift, while remaining aware that Liora was watching him. 

He was stuck here, and he knew it. He was far too weak to defend himself and could not move any distance without feeling utterly spent. There was something pulling him eastward, toward the Vault of Thorns lands along the Narva River. He could not yet put his finger on what it was, but it felt as though the breakthrough would happen there. The lead with the supplier might take them somewhere, but the thought of remaining in this nest of vipers without knowing who could be trusted held no appeal.

With one hand he traced patterns in the water. Magical patterns, but without giving them life, as a way to practice. He had often caught himself doing it while lost in thought. He realized he needed Liora to come with him when he left the Tower of Azur, and he began to plan how he might lead her, independent and proud as she was, to arrive at that conclusion herself.

Liora was watching Avon without quite being aware of it. It irritated her that Valiar had revealed Inera was her spymaster. She had not intended to share that with Avon, and she had been aware of the risk that he might be awake. Now, after everything that had unfolded, she would have to replace Inera regardless. She could not keep a spymaster whose identity had been exposed.

Avon rose from the water with his back to Liora and reached for a towel. Water ran down his well-formed muscles as the towel chased the moisture from his skin. The servants had laid out clean clothes for him while he bathed. Liora left the bedchamber for the dining room, where their dinner was being served. 

"I really do need to sleep after we've eaten, but you'll promise to wake me before you go to the council, won't you?" Avon said, sitting down and beginning to fill his plate. "If I'm to be alone in the suite for a while, I want to be awake for it." Liora almost smiled. The first sentence had already prompted her to silently formulate a refusal, that he could not accompany her to the council chamber. It was a relief that he had come to that realization on his own.

"You don't trust my guards? We've increased security considerably," Liora said, taking a sip of wine. Her gaze drifted out through the window and across the sunrise. His silence pulled her back. The pause settled over the room. Heavy, like a weighted blanket. She turned and found him searching for her eyes.

"I trust you," he said quietly.