Eira’s wings twitched. A tiny crystalline flinch.
"Tell him what’s coming. Who’s plotting. Where the danger is. Help him avoid the trouble before it finds him instead of letting him walk in blind and scramble his way out bloody every single ti."
The fairy’s head tilted. One degree. Two. Slow. Deliberate.
"The reason for my existence," Eira answered, voice sweet and musical, yet edged underneath with sothing far colder than her own Void-Ice, "is to indeed assist my Master. To serve him. To obey his orders."
"But?"
The single word hung in the car like sothing with actual mass.
"But even I am shackled."
The word shackled settled heavy between them, thick enough to taste.
"There are rules. Bindings older than this city and stronger than any chain your world has ever forged. Among them—" Her wings gave one agitated flutter. "Unless my Master orders it, I am not to get involved directly and act. Not to deliberately aid his growth. Not to feed him information he hasn’t asked for. Not to fight his battles, steer his path, or do any of the thousand things I could do to make his life easier, safer, and far less likely to end in—"
She stopped abruptly.
Her void-black eyes blinked once. Slowly. Like a shutter closing on sothing she had almost let slip.
"That’s all I can tell you, Maya. For now."
Maya didn’t blink. "So even if you knew the Maxtons were planning sothing—"
"Even then."
"Even if you knew how dangerous Danton really is. What he is. What he’s been since he was born and what he’s beco now that he’s awakened from—
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