"Ready?" Inkaris asked.
He didn't look back when he said it. He never did. His voice remained calm, conversational, like this wasn't a lesson in how ugly the world could be.
Aiden drew in a breath. "No."
A pause.
"But yes."
Liora folded her arms. "If he gets hurt, I am blaming you personally."
"You are free to try," Inkaris replied in that entirely unhelpful polite tone.
Seris frowned. "This is really necessary?"
"Yes," he said. "Understanding the rules of wish granting is not enough. You must understand the ecosystem it lives in. Who benefits from it. Who abuses it. Who survives by it. This profession is not ethereal. It is… administrative, political, transactional."
They stopped.
The building ahead was elegant.
Quiet.
Purposeful.
The kind of place that never said what it was, and never needed to.
The guards outside recognized Inkaris instantly.
They moved aside with silent efficiency.
Aiden swallowed. "So… they know you."
"Yes," Inkaris said. "She and I have an arrangement."
They were escorted up a polished stairway, footsteps echoing in quiet, expensive silence. Before they reached the final landing, a door opened.
A woman stepped out.
Tall.
Immaculate.
Unbothered.
DUCHESS AURELINE VESKOR.
Chair of the Council of Civic Stability.
The most composed person alive.
She finished wiping her hands with a delicate cloth as though she had just finished… dealing with someone. Not dramatically. Not blood-splattered. Simply… clinical.
Whatever she had done,
it had not troubled her.
"Apologies," she said gracefully, as if commenting on weather. "I had to finish a conversation. It appears the other party will not be interrupting us again." She dropped the handkerchief into a servant's waiting tray and smiled serenely. "And, more importantly, apologies for the… ah, delay in this chapter of events."
Aiden stared.
Seris blinked.
Liora mouthed,
Did she just—?
Inkaris simply inclined his head.
"Duchess."
"Inkaris," she returned coolly, then finally allowed her gaze to settle fully on Aiden.
She studied him.
Measured him.
Filed him neatly into whatever terrifyingly organized system existed behind those steady eyes.
"So," she murmured, "this is the one everyone is whispering about."
Aiden resisted the urge to shrink.
Aureline's expression softened by a fraction.
"Relax. If I intended to dismantle you, you would not have been ushered through my front door."
That… did not help.
She turned back to Inkaris.
"The debt matures sooner than expected, then?"
"It does."
Aiden blinked. "Debt?"
Her lips curved.
"Years ago, I wanted… time," she said. "Time to maneuver. Time to protect what is mine. Time to prevent fools from collapsing my city for the sake of ego."
"And the cost," Inkaris said smoothly, "was service when required."
She nodded.
"And now, I call upon one such service. For the duration of the current… chaos—" her gaze flickered with interest, "—I will extend political and legal protection to your apprentice. Documentation. Obstruction. People being… encouraged to reconsider unwise pursuits."
Aiden stared.
"You're helping us?"
She tilted her head.
"Do not mistake my priorities for kindness," she said gently. "You are disruptive. You are destabilizing. And you are inconvenient to the wrong sort of people. Which makes you, for the moment… useful."
Her smile sharpened — elegant, not vicious.
"I prefer useful things alive."
He nodded slowly.
He understood.
Wish granting wasn't a fairy tale.
It wasn't divine.
It was infrastructure.
Influence.
Agreement.
And the individuals powerful enough to participate in those agreements were rarely kind.
Aureline sighed lightly.
"Well then. Now that we have arrived, and I have—quite literally—washed my hands of my previous matter…" She clapped her hands once, quietly. "Let us continue."
For now, Aiden was protected.
Not by mercy.
But by politics.
And sometimes,
those are the only shields the world offers.