DARIAN

The knock comes barely seconds after Iris drifts off to sleep. Her soft breaths fill the room, peaceful and steady, and I hesitate before leaving her side.

“Iris,” I murmur softly, bending down to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Sleep well, love.”

She murmurs something incoherent in response, curling closer into her blankets. I hesitate, heart heavy, before slipping from the room.

The knock comes again, sharper this time, and I know it’s not idle. I pull on a dark tunic over my bare chest, my movements tense, and stride toward the door.

When I open it, a guard stands there, rigid and serious, the torchlight...