Chapter 152: sasha pain
The throne room’s vast doors groaned open again, interrupting the weight of the bargain that still hung in the air like incense. Captain Sasha strode through the entrance with military precision, her scarred features composed in the mask of duty she’d worn for decades. But as her eyes swept the scene before her—Rose standing close to the Queen, their voices lowered in intimate conversation—something flickered across her expression.
It was subtle, barely a tightening around her eyes, but Rose caught it. The way Sasha’s jaw set just a fraction harder. The almost imperceptible pause in her stride. The Queen commanded respect from everyone in the kingdom, but this wasn’t reverence Rose was seeing. This was something rawer, more personal.
Jealousy.
Sasha recovered quickly, dropping to one knee before the Obsidian Throne with practiced grace. "My Queen," she said, her voice steady despite whatever emotions churned beneath the surface. "I bring word from the portal chamber."
The Queen’s divided mask turned toward her captain, light and shadow playing across the crystalline surface. "Rise, Sasha. Speak."
"The portal is ready, Your Majesty," Sasha reported, coming to her feet but keeping her eyes fixed on the Queen’s mask rather than glancing toward Rose. "The dimensional threshold has stabilized, and our mages have confirmed the breach point into the human realm. However..." She hesitated, and for the first time since entering, her gaze flicked toward Rose. "Locating the Veilwalker’s exact position will require more than raw power. The human world is vast, and without a focal point, we could spend years searching."
Rose stepped forward, her movement causing Sasha’s attention to snap back to her with barely concealed irritation. "That won’t be necessary," Rose said calmly. "I can guide us directly to him."
The Queen’s head tilted slightly, a gesture that somehow conveyed intense curiosity despite the expressionless mask. "How?"
Rose lifted her right hand, flexing her fingers with deliberate precision. As she did, tiny sparks of silver light danced between her knuckles—not fire, not any of the traditional elements, but something else entirely. Something that pulsed with the rhythm of a distant heartbeat.
"When the Veilwalker was taken," Rose explained, her voice carrying the weight of confession, "I acted on instinct. In the moment before they dragged him through their portal, I managed to place a tracking sigil on him. A small thing, woven from shadow and starlight, pressed into his skin when I reached for him." Her expression darkened with the memory. "No one noticed—they were too focused on restraining his power to watch for subtlety."
Sasha’s scarred face went through several expressions in rapid succession—surprise, grudging admiration, and something that might have been wounded pride. "You marked him without telling anyone?"