Naida froze, her heart pounding. She glanced at Mother Sarina, who whispered prayers, gripping her cane tightly. The blind woman's pale eyes moved as if she could see the danger coming.
Swallowing down her own fear, she forced her hands steady. This was no time for hesitation. She gathered her hair, twisting it into a quick bun before turning to Mother Sarina.
"Sit beside her," she instructed, gripping the old woman's frail arm and guiding her down. "Keep your hands on her. If she stirs, get her to drink more."
Mother Sarina's milky eyes stared past her, lips pressing together in worry. "Naida—"
"Just watch over her."
Naida took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. It wasn't the first time she'd faced trouble, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Whatever fear was in her gut, she buried it deep as she reached for the door handle.
With a final deep breath, she pulled it open.
In the pouring rain, the Tax Wardens were lined up. Their helmets, bearing the Regent King's emblem, masked their identities, and their black armor shone in the weak torchlight.
"Naida of the Lower Wards," the lead guard intoned. "By decree of Regent King Malagar, you and your household are hereby seized for failure to meet your tax dues."
Ah. There it was.
Naida forced down the spike of dread curling in her stomach. She had known this was coming. They were out of time. She had known this moment would come—knew that two months of unpaid taxes meant either execution or enslavement.
The Lower Wards had been bleeding dry under Malagar's rule. The people were starving, drowning in taxes meant to crush them.
Revik had done everything he could. He had fought, bled, and risked his life on the battlefield as a sellsword, all to scrape together what little coin he could. And yet, it had never been enough.
And now, they had come to take everything from them.
Her fingers twitched at her side, itching for a blade she didn't have. Fighting was out of the question. Running? No use—not with Lyra unconscious and Mother Sarina unable to move quickly.
That left her with one option.
Stall.
Naida leaned casually against the sturdy doorframes. "Tell me something," she drawled with a mischievous smile, "do they actually train you lot to be this humorless, or is it simply a natural gift you all possess?"
The guard exhaled deeply, as if he were trying to swat away a persistently annoying insect that refused to be ignored. "Step aside," he replied in a clipped, irritated tone.
"And if I refuse to step aside?" Naida challenged boldly, h
"Then we will have no choice but to drag you out by force," the guard declared firmly.
Naida hummed, clicking her tongue. "See, that's where we have a problem. You come barging in here, talking about taxes like we have a choice. The Lower Wards are drowning, and your beloved Regent King keeps pushing us deeper into the mud."
A second guard shifted beside the leader, fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword. "We are not here to discuss politics."
"No, of course not. You're just here to do his dirty work," she spat out with disdain.
The leader took a step forward"Enough. You will come with us. Now."
Even as her heart pounded fiercely in her chest, Naida managed to maintain a defiant smirk on her face. "You know," she replied coolly, "I'd really love to join you if it were up to me, but I'm afraid I have a sick girl inside who—"
Before she could finish her sentence, he cut her off sharply, "She will be taken as well."
At that moment, the playful smirk that had been on Naida's face vanished completely.She glanced past the guards, searching the shadows. Revik. Where in the hells was he? But no movement stirred beyond the streets. No sign of salvation.
Damn it.
Struggling to keep her composure, she forced her voice to remain calm and even as she responded, "She won't survive the journey."
The leader's tone remained cold as he replied, "That is not our concern."
The leader raised a gloved hand, shadows coming around his palm like smoke curling from a dying fire. Naida's body tensed, every instinct was screaming at her to run—but there was nowhere to go. No cover. No weapons. No chance.
He was going to strike.
Naida exhaled and closed her eyes, ready to take the hit. If she could shield the others for just a moment longer…
But the blow never came.
A sudden gust of wind slammed into the porch, and in the same heartbeat, a strong arm wrapped tight around her waist and yanked her back.
Revik stood in front of her, cloak flaring behind him in the rain, his Stormfang Blade was crackling with electric light. The blast of shadow had struck the blade. Taron was crouched behind a barrel nearby soaked to the bone, but safe.
"You always wait 'til the dramatic part to call me," Revik said, as if they weren't surrounded by guards with blades drawn.
Naida scoffed. "Well, I could have handled it myself, but I figured you'd be upset if I stole all the fun."
Revik threw her a crooked grin—the one he always wore when things were about to get messy. And gods, despite everything, her chest warmed. He had come. Of course he had.
She had known.
It had always been her and Revik against the world.
They were both tossed aside, two kids no one wanted—orphans with nothing but each other. The orphanage fed them, clothed them, but it hadn't given them a home. That, they had built on their own. Revik had been her anchor in the storm, her sword and shield long before he carried one.
She'd had dreams of building something better, of change. He'd had nothing but a sword and a stubborn will to survive
And still, they'd chosen each other.
Revik's blade crackled again as he aimed it at the guards. "You have two options. Walk away. Or get buried."
The lead guard sneered. "You dare threaten the Regent's chosen?"
"I don't make threats," Revik said. "I make promises."
Revik lifted his sword higher, the blue light glowing along the blade like lightning. Rain ran down his face, but he didn't take his eyes off the guards.