Private Condolences

[Aerik Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Irina Jesart

The ship idled for a moment as the engines slowly grew silent. Space travel did not bother Aerik as much as it bothered his father. He supposed it was because he had been raised to see it as a normal thing. Gerwald had not. It was ironic that Aerik spent more time on the ground while his father commanded the Second Legion, an assignment which had seen him on Jutrand less and less in recent months. Word of his exploits made their way back to the boy, to the academy as a whole, and each successive victory had only put a wider target on the young Lupo’s back.

Aerik was quickly becoming a prize to kill.

He was grateful for the opportunity to get off Jutrand, even if the circumstances were not ideal. Normally such a trip would not have been sanctioned, but there were certain demands of duty which had pressed the headmaster into granting Irina the time away from the academy. She asked for Aerik to be her escort to ensure she returned. The headmaster seemed to think taking a Lechner as collateral would be sufficient enough to guarantee her return.

Irina had talked about her Eliad how it was a desert, and arid place. Aerik had been curious about it. Gerwald avoided desert worlds. He preferred the forest. The young pup understood why when the loading ramp descended and the heat of the outdoor world rushed into the ship. It was like a wall. The beast inside him seemed to like it, however.

She insisted he dress in loose and light clothing. Aerik complied. Wherever he would need for the funeral, ritual, or ceremony, that they would be participating in later would be provided for him. It was the one nicety he could expect. The customs of Irina’s people would not allow her much beyond the closure the event was supposed to provide. Among the Sith, the girl was an equal to any man. Among her people, she was unfit to receive anything from her father, save the debts he had accumulated.

It was wrong.

His fiery gaze stole a quick look in the ebony girl’s direction. There was concern in it. Was she okay? Would she be okay? He supposed the matter was obvious, but he could not help but feel the injustice of her situation. As a Sith she could make it right. They both could. Would they? Wisdom might be to let the past go. This was a chain that could hold her back, afterall. Maybe the village needed to be burned to the ground, snuffed out of existence so as to finally free Irina from whatever was holding her back.

Through victory chains were broken.

Aerik was quiet as he took his place beside her. They walked off the ship together. He would let her take the lead because he did not know where to go from there. Aerik would see her home for the first time, but it was not a joyous thing.

He tried to say something, but he did not know what to say…

…he stayed silent.

The only sound between them for the moment was the rustle of their clothing and the lightsaber hilts they had claimed from the Jedi they had killed. It would have to do for the moment, until one of them broke the silence that had fallen between them.

 

[Irina Jesart]

The wall of heat was a familiar blanket, enveloping her with the comfort of home. A hint of sadness cracked through the mask before vanishing, no doubt caught by her golden-eyed companion. She was grateful that Aerik Lechner had agreed to come. She wasn't sure she'd be able to do this alone. The hot air wafted over them as they stepped off the ship, carrying glittering dust and a host of smells. The sweet scent of a shisha smoke, spiced caff and fruity curries. The smell of home.

Servants flanked the walkway from the landing pad to the villa. Clad in black, the women's faces hidden behind black veils, they bowed their heads as Irina passed, a ceremony she had expected. What she had not expected was the servants who did not belong to her house among them.

Her father's body had not yet been cremated, and already the other houses were making their move. At the end of the walkway, waiting to greet her was the Caretaker, head of the villa staff and her father's most trusted servant. A tall, slender blue blue-skinned Twi'lek. He bowed his head when they approached.

"Lady Irina, we wish your homecoming were not under such circumstances. Our deepest condolences, our hearts weigh heavily with the passing of your father. The sands await his return."

"Thank you, Santel."

Santel nodded, a sad look on his face as he studied Irina before lifting his gaze to Aerik questioningly. "He's here to see me return to the academy. I'm to stay in his sight at all times, lest I decide to make a break for it." That was not entirely true, but she would not have them separated when her home had become a viper's nest. "See that he had something to wear for the ceremony."

Santel's gaze swept over Aerik, assessing him like a tailor might and nodded. "It will be done." He stepped aside, gesturing for her to take the lead, and she did. Behind them, the servants filed away, returning to their duties. Santel escorted them into the courtyard, the garden planted with succulents and bromeliads of varying colours. In the centre stood a large Olive tree whose branches cast a cool shade over the space.

"We have some new faces," Irina commented, her tone cold.

"House Vedieu graciously lent some of their staff to ensure that we were fully outfitted for the few days you are here," Santel replied smoothly, casting her a sideways glance.

"How kind of them. We must send them our thanks." There was no gratitude in her tone, only iciness.

"I have some wine in the cellar that may suffice?" The corner of Santel's lip twitched. "And perhaps some olives?"

Irina nodded. It was a meagre response, a thanks out of duty and nothing more. "Perfect, see it done. I have some business I'd like to attend before lunch. Then I'm sure you have an errand list as long as my arm before tonight."

Santel bowed his head "Your father's office has been prepared for you." His gaze lingered before he bowed again and turned away. Irina's eyes widened briefly before her mask returned. They wouldn't have dared…would they?

When Irina turned to look at Aerik, her face was a mask once more, one of cool indifference, the only giveaway was the rage that was slowly building within her, a subtle vibration in the force. She led them through the small palace. It wasn't obnoxious in its decor, some subtleties spoke volumes of the wealth that had been accrued by generations, items of value collected by off-world traders, tapestries and paintings that wouldn't have been out of place in a gallery.

Irina paid it no mind, sweeping past all of it to her father's office. Once they were inside, she closed the door behind them, placed a finger to her lips to warn Aerik not to speak yet and moved to the desk, settling into the large leather chair she ran her fingers under the desks edge until she found the groove she was looking for, with a gentle click the desk popped open and she pulled a device from it setting it on the top.

"Cover your ears." Irina activated it, and a high-pitched whine emitted from it, gradually growing in pitch and volume. Fine for her ears, though it would be uncomfortable for Aeriks as it increased. Then it stopped before a small EMP pulse emitted from it. Large enough to cover the room, but not so large as to disrupt the rest of the house.

The smell of fried electronics told her that whatever devices had been planted were no longer viable. She gave Aerik a tight smile "And you think the academy is bad?"

 

[Aerik Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Irina Jesart
Aerik Lechner didn’t move at first.

He stood in the center of the office like a statue carved from some windswept, ancient cliff—still, and severe, while watching her with those burnished eyes that never seemed to blink long enough to miss anything. He covered his ears. The smell of scorched circuits reached him just as the ringing in his ears faded to a dull echo behind his temples.

Then he finally smirked.

“Remind me,” he said, voice low, dry, and threaded with that biting charm he’d inherited like a curse, “what part of this was supposed to make me feel better about the Academy?”

He stepped closer now, only a few paces between them and the desk, his gaze dragging deliberately over the room. Not the art or the riches, he didn’t care about any of that. He was watching the shadows and listening to the Force settle in the wake of the EMP like dust falling after a quake.

"Someone was listening," he said simply, then looked at the still-smoking device. “Probably more than one someone.”

His tone dropped a shade colder.

“You’re sure that was all of them?”

Not accusatory. Not quite. But it was the voice of someone raised in a world where trust was a blade you kept sheathed only long enough to sharpen.

He glanced back to her, the faintest flicker of curiosity behind his otherwise unreadable stare.

“And here I thought it was complicated being the son of Gerwald Lechner.”

 

[Irina Jesart]

Irina shrugged. “My father did everything he could to make this room bug proof. He told me once, that the walls had ears and if I didn't watch my tongue the Sandman would come for my eyes. I didn't sleep for a week, not until I made Santel stand over my bed to guard me.”

A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed against it. “His paranoia consumed him, so if there is any room in this house that is clear of listening devices after that, it will be this one.” She picked the EMP up, setting it back into its hiding place and closing the desk again.

She looked around the room, the walls lined with bookcases that were crammed with books and scrolls from all over the galaxy. There wasn't a tome in here she hadn't read. She sat back in the chair, fingers idly tracing the worn spots on its arms as she fell into deep thought for a moment.

“We're going to have to pretend like we normally do. The less attention on you the better. The Vedieu's haven't even waited for the ceremony before they inserted their staff which means they want me gone quickly…or dead. Can't have them knowing you're a Lechner, otherwise they'll think I'm worth keeping for my links and I'll wind up betrothed to some spineless schutta.”

She gave him a tight smile. “Assassination attempts are easier to deal with.”

Aerik Lechner

 

[Aerik Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
TAG: Irina Jesart

Aerik leaned back against the edge of the desk, arms folded across his chest, watching her closely, though not without something gentler in his expression now. It was not sympathy, not exactly, but understanding. They shared the kind born of sleepless nights, standing guards, and fathers who weaponized bedtime stories.

"The Sandman," he echoed with a wry twist of his mouth. "Sounds charming."

He let the silence sit between them a moment. Not to be cruel just to let the truth of what she'd said settle fully. Then he spoke.

"You were right to make Santel stand watch." His voice softened slightly at the name. "And your father was right about the walls. They always have ears. Doesn't mean you stop speaking. Just means you learn to choose your weapons." He tapped a finger once against the desk then gave her a sharp look. "And yours are sharper than most."

Her plan, pragmatic and brutal as it was, earned a faint nod of approval.

"Pretending is fine, but if the Vedieus want you dead, they should've acted yesterday. You've already slipped the noose." A beat. "Even if they don't know it yet."

Then he leaned in, voice quiet, measured.

"If I thought you were safer alone, I'd leave." A pause. "But I don't. And I won't. Whether they see me as a risk, a bargaining chip, or a bastard from a disgraced line, I don't care. Let them underestimate me. Let them try."

His eyes burned faintly, that same slow-simmering fire that marked every Lechner.

"I don't mind getting my hands dirty for a cause. Especially not you."

Then, more lightly, almost teasing, he added, "And if it comes down to assassination or an arranged marriage, I'll happily handle the bloodstains."

 

[Irina Jesart]

Irina felt her heart skip a beat as Aerik leaned in, the ember glow in his eyes making her heart race. Damn him. She really needed to get a grip. It didn't seem to matter where they were or the circumstances; he just had this effect on her. Heat rose in her cheeks, and she smiled at his quip. Drawing in a deep breath, she tore her eyes away from him, sweeping the room once more, trying to focus.

"Well, we have a few hours before the ceremony, under different circumstances, I would've given you a tour. Instead, I'm afraid we're going to be stuck here for a while. I don't think my father would have killed himself without leaving something behind for me. A holomessage or a letter, and if it's going to be anywhere, it will be here."

She rose to her feet, needing to put a little distance between them to settle her racing heart. Her fingers gently traced the spines of books as she moved along the shelves, scanning the titles, looking for anything out of place. "They will have ransacked this room before we arrived, setting everything exactly as it was to be sure I wouldn't know." A soft smile played on her lips. "What they don't know is that Lord Jesart was meticulous. Every book had its place, every lamp had to be placed just so. It took me years to successfully sneak in here and read without him noticing."

Irina stopped, noting the way her finger caught on a book. She plucked it gently from the shelf, testing the weight in her hand. Its pages were yellowed with age and use. Wordlessly, she carried it back to the desk, setting it down atop it, allowing Aerik to read the title, The Sandman and Other Desert Tales, before opening it. The cover felt heavy, unusually so. "Do you have a knife?" she asked, running her finger along the seal.

Aerik Lechner

 

[Aerik Lechner]

TAG: Irina Jesart​

Aerik leaned against the desk, the wood firm beneath his palms as he watched her move along the shelves. The quiet of the room carried a strange weight, filled with the faint scent of paper and dust. Light slanted through the tall windows, catching the folds of his desert robes. He had grown used to silence, but this one felt different, measured and deliberate, as if the house itself were waiting for something to be found.

When she turned with the book in her hands, her movements were steady, but he could see the tension behind her calm. He studied her for a moment, then let a faint smile touch his mouth.

"A shame about the tour," he said gently. "I think I would have liked seeing this place through your eyes."

His tone carried no jest, only quiet truth. Whatever else they were searching for, he wanted her to know he saw her effort and the ache beneath it. The pup reached to his belt, drew a small knife, and offered it to her, hilt-first.

"You said they ransacked everything," Aerik murmured, eyes on the seal she traced with her thumb. "If that is true, and it is still here, then they either missed it or wanted you to find it."

He watched her hesitation and stepped closer. The air shifted with him, stirring the scent of parchment and dust.

"People who take things apart always try to put them back the way they think they were," he continued. "But it is never quite right. The ones who knew the place before can always tell."

She gave a small nod, and he took the knife back, his hand brushing hers before he slipped the blade beneath the seam. The sound of tearing paper filled the space between them.

The cover opened slightly, revealing a folded slip of parchment pressed deep within the first pages. Aerik glanced at it, then at her, reading the flicker of unease that crossed her eyes.

"Whatever this is they wanted it to look forgotten. But your father did not leave anything to chance."

He turned the book toward her and stepped back just enough to give her room, his voice softer now.

"You do not have to face whatever is in there alone."

 

[Irina Jesart]

Irina's finger trembled slightly as she carefully picked up the parchment, unfolding it gently to see the gentle cursive of her fathers hand. A lump caught in her throat. It had been months since she'd seen his handwriting, even while living under the same roof they wrote to each other, secret letters slid under doors or left under pillows. a smile spread across her lips, marred by the tears in her eyes as she read the verse he'd written.

Sniffing, she wiped her tears away and handed the letter to Aerik to read.

My little firecracker,

You are the greatest gift I was ever granted, my deepest regret will be that I did not get to see you grow into the great Sith Lord I know you will become. At least, my death will help you on that path. When all is said and done, Irina, do not look back. you were not meant to return to the sands, you were meant to be among the stars. Avenge me if you must, but never look back. I'll leave you with one last riddle, and pray that you find it before they do.

Beneath the sun where sand seas roll,
Where Jawas trade and Raiders toll,
Not pit nor tomb nor barge of kings—
But ancient ribs that once had wings.
Follow scavenged metal, follow sand,
And enter the hollow, dark and tanned;
There, among bone and wind-blown sand,
Lies the answer: the belly of a dead man.


Good luck, firecracker, and remember, there are ears and eyes everywhere, trust no one.

I love you, and I am sorry, for all of it.
All my love,
Father
x
​

When he was done reading and he looked up, Irina was chewing the inside of her cheek, eyes glazed clearly lost in thought. "Whatever he had, or whatever he wants me to see, he took it into the desert. We'll have to wait until tonight till after the ceremony, head out after the lights are doused at midnight." she blinked, looking back at him "that is, if you're still with me?"

Aerik Lechner

 

[Aerik Lechner]

TAG: Irina Jesart​

Aerik read the letter in silence, eyes tracing each line until the words sank into him. When he reached the end, he let the parchment lower slowly in his hand, careful not to crease it. The weight of what her father had written lingered, hanging in the air between them like the faint scent of old ink.

"He left you a path," Aerik said at last, his voice quiet. "Not only to what he wanted you to find, but to understand why he was willing to be gone."

The parchment caught the light in his fingers, his gaze still on the lines of delicate script.

”It speaks of the desert, of bones and wind. But I do not know this world, not yet."

He set the letter gently on the desk and straightened, eyes meeting hers. "You said we will have to wait until night. Then we will. If this place hides what he wanted you to see, we will find it together."

His tone softened, though the words held firm resolve. "The ceremony will pass, the lights will fade, and when they do, we move. If he took something into the desert, it is still out there waiting for you."

He paused, letting the silence settle before continuing. "I cannot promise what we will find, but I can promise that you will not face it alone."

For a moment, his eyes flicked back to the letter, then to her again. "Your father trusted you with this. Whatever he meant you to uncover, it belongs to you. My part is to see that you reach it."

He stepped back from the desk, folding his hands loosely before him. "When midnight comes, I will be ready."

 

[Irina Jesart]

Irina felt the lump reform in her throat at Aerik's words and swallowed hard against it. To think that she may have done all of this alone if she hadn't followed him into the maze that night. She couldn't find words to show her gratitude as his golden eyes met hers she let impulse lead her stepping forward and placing a kiss on his cheek. Heat rose instantly in her face as she stepped back, panic flashing across her eyes. "Aerik, I-"

She was cut off by a sharp rap at door that made her swear quietly. She swept the note into her pocket, shutting the book and shoving it into Aerik's hands before slipping back behind the desk, settling back into the chair, her face an unreadable mask once more. Her gaze flicked to his once more before it shifted to the door, her finger finding the intercom button. "Come in."

Santel opened the door, gracing them with a small bow. "Pardon the intrusion, my Lady, but it is time we got you ready, the guest will be arriving within the hour." he gestured to Aerik. "I have set up a chamber for your companion and found clothes that will suit him for this evening."

Irina frowned. "Did I not make it clear I was not to be out of his sight?"

"Well, yes my Lady but for propriety's sake-"

"The academy does not care about propriety, Santel, the terms of my return were clear. Move a cot into my chamber for him."

His lekku twitched as he took a step forward. "My lady, I must protest, your house name is already under scrutiny following your father's death-" he stopped short at the look on Irina's face, her mask shattered as rage crept over it. Santel averted his gaze. "My lady, forgive me, I did not mean... I shall do as you have asked." He cast a glance towards Aerik, eyes flicking to the book in his hands, before bowing low and backing rapidly from the room.

Irina stared after him, even after the door closed, fire burning in her dark eyes, her fingernails dug deep into the wood of the desk. "I hate it here." she said, her voice quiet.

Aerik Lechner

 

[Aerik Lechner]

TAG: Irina Jesart​

Aerik stayed where he was, the echo of her kiss still lingering against his cheek long after she had stepped away. He had not expected it, and yet, for that brief instant, it had said more than any words could. Her sudden distance, the return of formality as she slipped behind the desk, did not surprise him. He understood walls. He had built enough of his own to recognize them in others.

When Santel entered, Aerik’s gaze followed him without expression. The bow, the tone, even the careful choice of words told him everything he needed to know. This was a house wrapped in ceremony, ruled by appearances and suspicion. He kept silent through the exchange, the book still in his hands, though his attention flicked between them at every shift in tone.

At Irina’s final command, he gave the faintest nod of approval. It was not his place to interfere, but he respected the way she took control of the moment. When the Twi’lek’s words stumbled over her father’s death and her temper surfaced, Aerik’s eyes narrowed slightly, not in judgment, but in understanding. Grief had a way of drawing fire from the heart.

Once Santel had left and silence settled again, Aerik watched her. The mask she wore had cracked at the edges, and through it he could see the truth she was trying to bury. He took a slow step forward, setting the book carefully on the desk where it had been before.

“You do not belong in places like this,” he said quietly. “They feed on control and call it tradition. The moment you stop pretending to need their approval, they lose their power.”

He did not move closer, but his presence filled the quiet space between them. “You will not be here long. After tonight, the desert will have its answers, and whatever holds you here will lose its grip.”

His gaze lingered on her a moment longer before softening. “Until then, I will stay where you can see me.”

 

[Irina Jesart]

The soft whisper of the book upon the desk drew her gaze from the door to meet his, his words quiet reassuring reminding her that she was not bound to this place. As soon as this was over, as soon as whatever secret her father had hidden was unveiled she could turn away and never look back, never be restrained by people that were for all intents and purposes, lesser than she was. She gave him a small nod, peeling her fingers away from the desk and rising to her feet, oblivious to the dark fingerprints she had scorched into the desk.

"Come on, let get this over with."

***

Within half an hour and with the aid of the two handmaidens assigned to Irina for the evening, they were dressed in white and led down into the rear courtyard where a pyre had been built, her fathers body resting upon it, wrapped carefully in white cloth. Irina took her place standing on a small dais resting close to it, behind her to one side stood Santel and much to his chagrin, she place Aerik on her other. She needed more than to just see him to get through this, she needed to know he was close.

There were other benefits to placing him there, nameless as she had made sure he was since their arrival, to have him standing there with her told the Lords and Ladies that began to file in that she was unavailable for any betrothals. A fact she may have conveniently forgotten to tell him.

She fiddled idly with the gold bracelets on her wrists as the guests arrived, approaching the dais and bowing, their condolences given in hushed tones before they moved to set wreathes and flowers upon the pyre. As one Lady moved away, Santel clicked his tongue in annoyance. "His presence is causing a stir." he murmured. He wasn't wrong, as Irina cast her gaze around there were more than a few whispers travelling with eyes flicking in Aerik's direction.

"Good." she replied so quietly her lips barely moved.

"Your father would not have wanted this."

Irina turned slowly, the veil catching in a light evening breeze and levelled him with a deadly stare. He bowed his head and did not speak again. When Irina turned back around, it took every ounce of control to keep her expression even as Lord Vedieu approached, a tall portly human, with a thick beard and balding head. He bowed low, a solemn expression on his face.

"My dear Lady Jesart. My deepest condolences for your loss, I cannot imagine the pain you must be suffering. Both parents gone and in such tragic ways."

Irina managed a polite smile. "Lord Vedieu, I must extend my thanks to you, without your generous and charitable support tonight would have not been possible. There are few who would do such a thing without the promise of reward."

His expression tightened, his eyes flicked almost imperceptibly to Aerik and back again. "It is no bother to me, I only want the best for you, my dear. I would support any other in the same predicament." He bowed again, retreating. Irina knew in that moment, that his assassins would be coming for her tonight. She had made herself a target by placing Aerik on the dais with her, and part of her welcomed it.

When all had arrived and the cold contrast of night had settled over the courtyard a hush fell over everyone as a torch was brought forward. There was no grand speech, no recount of his life, there was only a torch, brought in by a single servant and handed to Irina. Carefully, she stepped down from the dais and towards the pyre.

With her back to the crowd, her mask cracked the lump in her throat burning with the grief she held down. She closed her eyes, taking a steadying breath before lowering the torch. "With fire gifted by the sun, I cast you ablaze. Let your ashes rise, let the desert wind take you. To the sand, I return you."

She stepped back as the flames rose up, the kindling cracking and popping, spitting embers high up into the night. Irina didn't move as the flickering fire became a roar engulfing the body of the man who had raised her, who had taught her all she knew. The one saving grace in all this, is that she did not have to move, she did not have to interact with the crowd as they shifted away, moving indoors where a feast had been laid out. Here she was allowed to grieve.

Tears rolled silently down her cheeks. "Goodbye, father." she whispered

Aerik Lechner

 

[Aerik Lechner]

TAG: Irina Jesart​

Aerik stood beside her on the dais, the quiet hum of the evening pressing close around them. The smell of oil and incense drifted with the soft wind, mingling with the faint spice of the torches. His robes were simple, unadorned, yet the eyes of the crowd found him all the same. He could feel their judgment like heat against his skin, though it did not move him. He had been looked upon with worse and lived to remember every face.

When Santel spoke, Aerik did not answer, though his eyes flicked toward the man with the same quiet warning he gave all who tested patience. He understood why Irina wanted him near. The air in this place carried the weight of watching eyes and listening walls. In such company, closeness was its own kind of armor.

As the ceremony began and the first torch was brought forward, Aerik let his attention rest on Irina. He had seen death many times, but grief looked different on her. It was not loud or broken; it lived beneath the surface, steady and sharp. When she took the torch, he could see her hand tighten just enough to betray what the rest of her would not show.

The fire caught with a rush of sound, the wood splitting as the flame devoured it. The light painted her in gold and shadow, outlining the set of her shoulders and the curve of her jaw. Aerik remained still, letting the heat brush against him, the scent of smoke rising into the night air.

He did not speak when she whispered her farewell. Words had no place here. Instead, he bowed his head in silence, granting the moment its due. Whatever else this world had taken from her, he would not allow it to take her peace.

When the crowd began to drift away toward the feast, Aerik waited. His gaze lingered on the fire until only embers glowed at its heart. Then he turned slightly toward her, his voice quiet enough that only she could hear.

“When you are ready, we will leave,” he said. “No one here deserves to see your grief.”

He stayed at her side, still as stone, keeping watch as the last sparks rose into the dark.

 

[Irina Jesart]

Aerik's presence was calming, she fought the urge to reach for him, to use him to anchor herself in the physical world as much as he was helping her stay anchored emotionally. She closed her eyes, the embers reflecting in her damps cheeks as she sniffed. This would be the last time she could cry for him, when they left here and returned to the academy, her pain would have to be sealed tightly away along with that that still lingered for her mother. It never left you, never truly became less. It was a great weight that you learned to carry and she would learnt to carry this one.

When he spoke, his voice was soft, tugging her back from the abyss. She drew a deep breath in through her nose and exhaled out of her mouth opening her eyes and turned her head to find him looking at her. With a blink and a small nod, she cast the pyre one final look before turning away, wiping her face as she led them away from the dimming firelight and the quiet hubbub of the last few feasters. No one would look for them now, except whatever assassins Vedieu had managed to summon.

Irina wiped her face as they went before starting to unpin the veil from her braided hair. "We'll need to change quickly, it'll be cold. I have a survival bag in my room, Father always made me keep one packed just in case, should have everything we might need for a nights excursion." She kept her voice low, remembering her fathers warning about the listening walls. She found herself checking every shadow, listening for any sound or step that wasn't there's. Aerik would hear any assassin before she would, but it didn't mean she would drop her guard.

As they reached her room, Irina extended her hand for the door and froze a tingle of warning running up her spine. Her eyes snapped up to find Aerik's face, knowing he would sense the trap also. She opened her mouth to speak, before snapping it shut and reaching for him mentally.

We'll need to kill them quickly and quietly.

Aerik Lechner