Soon Tom returned with the girls, Lucas stepped out himself and lifted the flap, his expression tired but steady, then waved Lira, Selene, and Nyx inside. When Tom tried to follow, Lucas raised a hand gently.
"Stay outside for now," Lucas said. "I’ll call you if I need you."
Tom studied his face for a mont, clearly wanting to argue, then nodded. "I’ll be right here," he said quietly.
The tent closed, leaving the four of them inside. The air felt heavy at once, thick with unsaid things. Lira noticed it imdiately and slowed her steps, Selene remained standing, and Nyx’s eyes went straight to Lucas, searching him.
"What’s wrong," Nyx asked. "You look like you so worried."
Lucas rubbed his palm slowly over his face, careful around the scarred skin, then let out a breath. "The king doesn’t trust anyone anymore," he said. "Not the council. Not the commanders. Not even those closest to him."
Nyx stiffened. "What do you an not even those closest to him."
"I an exactly that," Lucas replied. His voice was calm, but inside his chest his heart felt tight. He hated this part. He hated carrying truths he could not share. "Sothing happened. Confidential information got leaked to the usurpers. It broke whatever certainty he had left."
Selene folded her arms, her gaze sharp. "You’re saying there’s a betrayal."
Lucas nodded once. "There is."
Lira’s hand went to her mouth. "Who," she asked imdiately. "Is it soone from the council. One of the generals."
Lucas shook his head slowly. "We don’t know that yet. I wouldn’t tell you yet if I know by the way."
The words landed heavier than he intended. Nyx stared at him, hurt flickering across her face. "Why would you keep that from us."
"Because right now," Lucas said quietly, "knowing nas would only destroy what little balance is left. The king is already doubting himself. If everyone starts doubting everyone else, this army will collapse before a single blade is raised."
Nyx turned away, her fists clenching at her sides. "My father wouldn’t just turn on people without reason," she said, more to herself than to them. "Sothing must have terrified him."
Lucas watched her, feeling a sharp twist in his chest. She deserved answers. They all did. But answers without proof were poison. "All I can tell you," he said, "is that he’s convinced soone close has betrayed Valerion. And because of that, he trusts no one. Not . Not Henrietta. Not even you."
That finally made Nyx turn back to him, her eyes wide. "Even ."
"Yes," Lucas said softly.
Silence stretched between them. Selene was the first to break it. "Then this war just beca far more dangerous than we thought," she said. "An enemy in front is manageable. An enemy hidden among allies is not."
Lira swallowed hard. "What are we supposed to do."
Lucas closed his eyes for a brief mont. Inside his mind, the image of the king alone in his tent flashed again, rage and despair tearing at him from within. "We move forward as planned," he said. "We stay sharp. We say nothing unnecessary. And we watch."
Nyx took a step toward him. "I need to see my father," she said, her voice trembling despite her effort to stay strong. "I need to know he’s still thinking clearly."
Lucas hesitated, then nodded. "Go. But be careful. Don’t push him. He’s on the edge right now."
Nyx nodded, already turning toward the exit. "I won’t," she said. "I promise."
She slipped out of the tent, leaving Lucas with Lira and Selene. The silence returned, heavier than before.
Selene studied him closely. "You’re carrying more than you’re saying," she said.
Lucas gave a faint, tired smile. "That’s nothing new."
Lira stepped closer and placed a hand on his arm. "Just don’t carry it alone," she said softly.
Lucas looked at her hand, then at Selene, and felt a quiet resolve settle in his chest. Whatever betrayal lurked in the shadows, whatever truth waited to be uncovered, he knew one thing for certain.
If the king was losing his trust in everyone, then soone had to remain steady enough to hold the line.
Nyx went straight to the king’s tent and stood before the entrance of the king’s tent for several long breaths before she gathered the courage to step inside. The guards announced her presence, but there was no response, only a tense silence that pressed down on her chest. She pushed the flap aside anyway and walked in.
Her father stood with his back to her, hands braced against the table, shoulders rigid as stone. Maps and broken pieces of furniture littered the ground around him, silent witnesses to the storm that had already passed through the tent.
"Father," Nyx said softly, afraid that anything louder might shatter him.
He did not turn. "You should not be here."
Nyx swallowed. "I heard you were unwell. I was worried."
"I am not unwell," the king replied coldly. "I am thinking."
She took a step closer. "Everyone is frightened. No one understands what’s happening. If you would just talk to ..."
"There is nothing to talk about," he cut in, his voice sharp enough to make her flinch. He finally turned to face her, and the look in his eyes made her heart sink. There was no warmth there, no softness, only exhaustion and suspicion tangled together. "You should return to your post."
Nyx shook her head, tears already stinging her eyes. "I’m your daughter. Whatever is wrong, you don’t have to face it alone."
For a brief mont, sothing flickered across his expression, pain perhaps, or regret, but it vanished as quickly as it ca. His jaw tightened. "That is exactly why you must leave. I cannot afford weakness."
Nyx felt as though the air had been knocked from her lungs. "So that’s it," she whispered. "You won’t even tell why you’re hurting."
His gaze hardened. "Ask no more questions, Nyx. Trust no one. That is all you need to know."
Her hands trembled at her sides. "Not even ," she asked, her voice barely audible.
The silence that followed was answer enough.
Nyx’s vision blurred as tears finally spilled over. She bowed stiffly, more out of habit than respect, then turned and fled from the tent. Outside, she broke down completely, sobs tearing from her chest as she stumbled away, the image of her father’s cold eyes burning into her mind.
As she walked blindly through the camp, one thought echoed over and over in her head, heavy and unbearable.
Sothing had truly broken him, and she did not know if she could fix it.
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