Chapter 9: Severance Is Acceptance
The moment Lan’s chamber door closed behind him, his knees buckled.
Blood splattered across the marble floor as he collapsed against the wall, his body finally surrendering to the day’s toll. The cut on his neck burned. His meridians screamed. The void in his dantian gnawed at his insides like a starved beast.
And the golden words still hung in the air before him:
[7 Days Remaining]
Lan laughed—a wet, broken sound that dissolved into coughing. Seven days. Seven days to prepare for what might be his execution dressed as a banquet.
He dragged himself upright, leaving a smeared handprint of blood and sweat on the wall. First, he needed—
A knock.
Not at the door.
At his window.
Cassian perched on the balcony rail like a carrion bird, his robes fluttering in the night wind. A bottle dangled from his fingers, its contents swirling like liquid shadow.
"Her Highness leaves a gift," he said, tossing it.
Lan caught it by instinct. The glass was freezing.