The room stayed quiet after Kaelen sat down.
He kept the curved saber across his knees.
His eyes never left me.
The thin cut above my collarbone still stung every time I breathed.
Outside the broken door the toxic purple haze hung low over the bodies on the ground floor.
It did not climb the stairs.
Isolde sat in the corner with her back against the wall. She had not relaxed once. Her head stayed turned toward the hallway, listening hard.
Seraphina rested against the stone near me. Her golden eyes were open again. She watched Kaelen more than she watched me.
"You will not sleep," Kaelen said at last. His voice was low. "I will not sleep either. If you try anything, I cut you down."
"I heard you the first time," I said.
I did not look at him longer than needed. Toward outsiders I stayed cold. That rule did not change because he wore an Aldemoor crest.
Isolde spoke first.
"Horses," she said. "Many. Coming fast."
Kaelen’s head turned toward the window.
I stood and moved to the barred opening carefully.
Through the gray light I saw riders cresting the low ridge.
Dark blue cloaks.
Silver lion crests.
At least thirty men, maybe more.
Heavy horses.
They did not look like Church or Marcher scouts.
Royal colors.
Kaelen rose to his feet in one smooth motion. The saber came up.
"Prince Alaric’s men," he said. The words came out tight. "They should not be here yet."
Seraphina’s voice was quiet and hard.
"He sent them after me."
I did not answer.
I lifted her carefully.
Her body was still mostly dead weight.
Isolde found my belt with one hand without being told.
We moved into the hallway.
The second-floor corridor was narrow.
The grand staircase at the far end was the only real way down or up in force.
Kaelen followed close. He did not offer to carry anyone. He kept his blade ready and his eyes on my back.
We reached the top of the stairs just as the first riders crossed the broken courtyard. Boots hit the mud. Voices called orders. A tall man in a plumed helmet and wolf-fur cape dismounted and walked through the shattered front doors without slowing.
His voice carried up the stairwell.
"Commander Kaelen! If you are still breathing, show yourself. The Prince wants the Aldemoor princess delivered. Alive if possible. The Voss bastard and the Draven girl are expendable."
Kaelen stopped three steps behind me. His jaw worked once.
I set Seraphina against the wall where the corridor was narrowest. Isolde stayed close on my left. I kept the dagger in hand.
Kaelen did not answer the man below.
The voice came again, colder.
"Kaelen of Aldemoor. You tracked the transports. You are under royal directive. Hand over the princess or be named traitor with the rest of them."
Seraphina looked at Kaelen. Her golden eyes did not soften.
"You heard him," she said. "Choose."
Kaelen’s knuckles whitened on the saber hilt.
For a long breath he stared down the stairs at the men gathering in the hall.
The toxic haze still clung to the corpses near the door.
Some of the knights stepped carefully around it.
Others did not notice.
Then Kaelen spoke, loud enough for the hall to hear.
"The princess gave her order. She stays. You will not take her."
Silence held for half a second.
Then the man in the wolf-fur cape laughed once, short and ugly.
"Traitor it is. Kill them all. Bring me the golden-eyed girl’s head if the rest fight too hard."
Boots thundered on the lower steps.
I did not wait. "Hold the top. Narrow gap only."
Kaelen moved to the other side of the landing without argument. His wind aura flickered blue along the saber edge. The air sharpened.
The first three knights charged up in heavy plate.
Shields high.
I met the lead man with the dagger.
The impact jarred my arm.
Iron Body kept the bone from breaking.
I shoved him sideways into the railing.
Kaelen’s wind blade took the second knight across the neck before the man could raise his shield fully.
Blood sprayed the stone.
The third knight pushed past the falling bodies. His broadsword came down hard. I caught it on the dagger and felt the shock run through my shoulders. The cut on my collarbone opened again. Warm blood slid under my coat.
Isolde stayed flat against the wall behind me, one hand still on my belt. She could not see the fight, but she tracked every sound.
More knights came. The haze below started to drift higher as bodies fell into it. One man who breathed too deep of the purple air staggered and dropped his shield, coughing hard. Kaelen cut him down without mercy.
The man in the wolf-fur cape - Valerius, someone shouted - stayed at the bottom. He watched. He did not climb yet.
"You chose wrong, Kaelen," Valerius called. "The Prince will remember this."
Kaelen did not answer. He killed the next man who reached the top. His face stayed hard. No regret showed. Only the work of the blade.
A spear thrust came through the press of bodies. It scraped across my ribs and caught the edge of the earlier wound. Pain flared hot. I gritted my teeth, grabbed the shaft, and pulled the man forward. Kaelen finished him.
We held for another stretch of brutal minutes. Bodies piled on the stairs. The haze thickened. Some knights began to hesitate at the bottom of the steps.
Then Valerius moved.
He climbed through the press with a heavy two-handed blade. Earth-brown aura rolled off him like dust. The weight of it pressed on the landing. My legs felt heavier. Kaelen’s wind aura pushed back against it, but the difference in power was clear.
"Step aside, traitor," Valerius said. "Or die with the bastard."
Kaelen set his feet. "Try."
They met in the middle of the landing. Steel rang. Wind and earth aura clashed and threw sparks of force across the stone. Kaelen was skilled. Valerius was stronger. Each exchange drove Kaelen back a half step.
I could not leave the gap.
Two more knights tried to push past while the commanders fought.
I cut one across the thigh and shoved the other back down the stairs.
My arms already felt heavy.
The cut on my collarbone and the new line across my ribs both bled steadily.
Below, the remaining knights stopped trying to climb.
Someone shouted an order.
Oil was thrown across the dry tapestries and the old wooden beams of the main hall.
Flames caught fast.
Orange light flared up the stairwell.
Thick black smoke began to pour upward, mixing with the purple haze.
The heat hit us almost at once.
Valerius forced Kaelen sideways with raw weight. The greatsword came down in a heavy arc. Kaelen blocked, but the impact drove him to one knee. His left arm hung wrong for a second. He forced it back up and kept the saber between them.
I drove in from the side and slammed my shoulder into Valerius’s chest.
The earth aura pressed down hard.
My movements felt slower than they should.
I ducked under the next cut.
The second one scored a deeper line across my ribs and reopened the earlier wound.
Hot blood ran under my coat and stuck the cloth to my skin.
Kaelen rose again. His wind blade cut low and opened a deeper gash across Valerius’s thigh plate. The big man staggered. For the first time his heavy guard dropped a fraction.
I slammed into him again and drove both of us toward the edge of the landing.
Valerius’s greatsword swung wide and bit into the stone wall.
Kaelen stepped in and put the curved saber through the weaker joint at the back of Valerius’s knee.
The plate gave.
Valerius roared and fell hard against the railing.
The old wood cracked under his weight.
He hung on with one hand, eyes full of hate.
"More are coming," he said through his teeth. "You will burn with this keep."
He was not bluffing.
The smoke thickened fast.
It burned the throat and made every breath short.
Isolde pressed her sleeve hard over her mouth and nose.
Seraphina’s chest rose and fell in shallow pulls.
The heat dried the rain on my face and made the air hard to pull in.
I turned toward the barred window. It was narrow and high. Outside was a slanted roof and a long drop into the mud. Better than the stairs, but the fire was already licking up the outer wall. Smoke poured in from both directions.
We had only minutes before the landing became a furnace.
I opened the System Store in my mind and checked what points I still had left.
There had to be a way out before the whole second floor burned.