We found the first witness on the second day.
A clerk who worked in Princess Theron's household, managing her correspondence. He'd fled to the lower districts after Sael disappeared, terrified he'd be next. It took twelve hours of searching before one of my uncle's cartographer contacts led us to him.
He was hiding in a boarding house, drunk and shaking.
"She killed him," he said when I showed him Sael's torn coat. "Or had him killed. She has people. Lots of people. They do things for her, and no one asks questions."
"Did you see anything?" I asked. "Documents, letters, anything that proves she was coordinating with Rumanth?"
"I saw plenty. She was always careful, but I file her correspondence. I know what went where." His hands trembled around his cup. "But if I testify, she'll kill me too. Just like the magistrate's envoy."
"Not if she's arrested first. Not if the Emperor knows everything."
"The Emperor won't touch her. She's his daughter. His blood." He drained his cup. "You don't understand how these people work. Family protects family. Always."
"Not this time," I said. "The Emperor wants proof. He told me himself. If we give him enough evidence, he'll act."
The clerk studied me, weighing his fear against something else. Hope, maybe. Or just exhaustion.
"All right," he said finally. "I'll testify. But you keep me alive long enough to do it."
"I will."
We brought him to the palace under guard, secured him in protected quarters, and I reported to the Emperor.
He listened to the clerk's testimony in his private study. No council, no advisors. Just him, me, and words that confirmed his daughter was a traitor.
When we finished, he dismissed the clerk and sat in silence for a long moment.
"I keep hoping you're wrong," he said quietly. "That there's another explanation. That my daughter isn't capable of this."
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty."
"Are you? Because you've been right about everything else. The conspiracy, the invasion, the ministers. Why would you be wrong about this?" He stood and walked to the window. "Tell me something, Captain. Do you have children?"
"No, Your Majesty."
"Then you can't understand what I'm feeling. The hope that somehow, despite everything, there's been a mistake. That the child I raised couldn't do this." He turned to face me. "But I know there's no mistake. I've been watching Theron since you first raised suspicions. The way she moves through court, the people she speaks with, the careful control she maintains. She's been planning this for years."
"What will you do?"
"What I must. Arrest her. Try her. Convict her if the evidence holds." His voice was hollow. "And then I'll have to watch my daughter hang for treason."
The weight of it filled the room.
"There's something else, Your Majesty," I said. "If Theron is arrested, the conspiracy doesn't end. She has networks, contacts, people who'll continue her work. We need to dismantle all of it, not just remove her."
"Then you'll have authority to do so. Which brings me to what I wanted to discuss." He walked to his desk and pulled out a formal document, sealed with the imperial crest. "Captain Ryn Halvar. For service to the realm, for uncovering treason at the highest levels, for preventing catastrophic loss of life, I'm offering you the position of Imperial Warden."
He set the document on the desk between us.
"You'll have direct authority to investigate threats to the realm. You'll answer only to me. You'll command resources, personnel, and access to information others can't touch. You'll have the power to actually change things, not just fight losing battles on the frontier."
I stared at the document, at the seal that would bind me to the Crown.
"There are conditions," he continued. "You'll swear fealty to me and to the throne. You'll be bound by law to follow my orders. You'll give up your position as a Droupet Warden and become an instrument of imperial authority. And you'll stay in Cerasis, where I can use you most effectively."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then you return to Droupet and watch from a distance while the realm continues to rot. Because without authority, without position, you're just one person fighting an impossible fight." He met my gaze. "You've seen what you can accomplish with resources and backing. Imagine what you could do with official power."
I thought about the borderlands. About villages burning while courts played games. About how hard I'd fought just to be heard, just to make someone care.
And I thought about what I could do if I didn't have to fight for every scrap of authority.
"What about the investigation into Theron? Can I continue until it's finished?"
"You'll continue. You'll lead the arrests, the trials, everything. That's part of why I'm offering this position. You've proven you can handle difficult truths, even when they implicate people I love." His voice cracked slightly on the last word.
"I need time to think."
"You have until tomorrow at dawn. That's when I'm moving against Theron, with or without your acceptance. If you accept, you'll do it as Imperial Warden. If you don't, you'll do it as a Droupet captain with temporary authority that expires the moment the crisis ends."
He walked to the door, then paused.
"One more thing, Captain. My son Edrin has been assisting your investigation. He's asked to speak with you privately before you make your decision. I suggest you hear what he has to say. He has insights about what this position means that I can't provide."
"Your Majesty—"
"He's waiting in the south garden. And Captain? Whatever you decide, know that you've already done more for this realm than most people do in a lifetime. You don't owe us anything more."
He left, and I stood alone with the document that would change everything.
I found Edrin in the south garden, standing by the same fountain where we'd talked before. This time, his wife was with him.
Lady Cassia stood a few feet away, beautiful and distant in the evening light. When she saw me approach, she inclined her head politely, then walked toward the palace without a word.
Edrin watched her go, something complicated crossing his face.
"Your wife," I said.
"Yes. My wife." He turned to me. "We have an understanding, she and I. She married me for political advantage. I married her for the same reason. We're civil, respectful, and we maintain appearances. But we're not partners. We're not lovers. We're not even really friends."
"That's not my concern."
"Isn't it? You've rejected me twice now because I'm married. Because it matters to you that I made vows, even if they were purely political." He stepped closer. "I'm telling you this so you understand. Cassia knows I don't love her. She doesn't love me. What we have is a contract, nothing more."
"And that makes it better?"
"No. But it makes it honest." He paused. "My father told you about his offer."
"Yes."
"And you're considering it."
"I am."
"Then let me tell you what he won't. What it really means to accept that position." He gestured to a bench, and I sat, waiting.
"Imperial Warden sounds like authority. Power. The ability to fix things. And it is all of that. But it's also a cage." He sat beside me. "You'll be bound to my father's will. When he tells you to investigate something, you investigate. When he tells you to stop, you stop. When he decides that exposing corruption would damage the monarchy more than protecting it, you'll be ordered to bury evidence."
"He wouldn't—"
"He would. He has. My father cares about the realm, but he cares about the Crown more. And sometimes those interests conflict." Edrin's voice was serious. "If you accept this position, you'll become a tool. A weapon he can point at his enemies. And sometimes those enemies will be people who don't deserve it. Sometimes you'll be ordered to do things that go against everything you believe."
"Then why would you want me to accept?"
"Because even with all of that, you'll do more good than harm. Because having you in the palace, with authority and resources, is better than watching you burn yourself out on the frontier fighting battles you can't win." He looked at me directly. "And because I want you here. Where I can work with you. Where we can change things together, even if it's slower and more complicated than you'd like."
"You want me here so you can control me."
"No. I want you here so I don't have to worry about you dying in some forgotten skirmish while trying to save people who'll never know your name." His hand found mine. "Ryn, I'm asking you to stay. Not because I think you'll ever love me. Not because I expect you to be mine. But because you're the only person I've met in this cursed city who actually gives a damn about doing what's right. And I need that. The realm needs that."
I looked down at our joined hands.
"If I accept, if I stay, what are you expecting?"
"Nothing you're not willing to give. Work with me. Trust me when I say I'm trying to help. And maybe, eventually, consider that we could be more than just allies." He squeezed my hand gently. "But even if we never are, even if you reject me every day for the rest of your life, I still want you here. Because you make me want to be better. And that's rare."
I pulled my hand back slowly.
"I need to think about this. All of it. The position, your offer, everything."
"I know. That's why I'm not pushing. Take your time. Decide what you want. And whatever you choose, I'll respect it." He stood. "But Ryn? If you do accept my father's offer, remember one thing. You don't have to face it alone. I'll be here. Supporting you, working with you, protecting you when I can. You'll have at least one ally in this palace. And that matters."
He started to leave, then stopped.
"One more thing. When you reject me—if you reject me—don't do it because you think you're not allowed to want things. Don't do it because you've convinced yourself that duty means suffering. Do it because you genuinely don't want what I'm offering. That's the only reason I'll accept."
He left before I could respond.
I sat in the garden as twilight deepened, thinking about cages and crowns and the difference between power and freedom.
The Emperor offered authority. The ability to change things from within the system.
Edrin offered partnership. Someone who saw me clearly and wanted me anyway, even knowing I'd never be what he wanted.
Both offers came with chains.
The question was whether the chains were worth what they bought.
I spent the night in my quarters, staring at the imperial document, weighing everything.
My uncle found me near midnight.
"Couldn't sleep either," he said, settling into the chair across from me.
"I don't know what to do."
"Yes, you do. You're just afraid of the answer." He looked at the document. "If you accept, you stay in Cerasis. You become part of the machinery you've been fighting. You give up the simplicity of being a Warden and become something more complicated."
"And if I don't?"
"You go back to Droupet and keep fighting the same battles with the same lack of resources, knowing you could have done more if you'd just accepted the compromise."
"That's not helpful."
"No. But it's true." He leaned forward. "Ryn, I raised you to fight for what's right. To never give up, never back down, never accept injustice. But I also taught you to be practical. To understand that sometimes you have to work within broken systems to fix them."
"Working within the system means becoming part of it."
"Yes. But it also means having the power to change it." He paused. "You've spent your whole life fighting from the outside. Maybe it's time to fight from the inside. Where you can actually make policy instead of just reacting to it."
"And lose myself in the process?"
"Maybe. Or maybe you'll find new ways to be yourself. Ways I couldn't teach you because I never had to navigate what you're facing." His voice softened. "I can't tell you what to do, Ryn. But I can tell you that whatever you choose, I'm proud of you. And I'll support you. Whether you stay in Cerasis or come home to Droupet, you're still my niece. You're still the girl I raised."
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
He squeezed my shoulder and stood. "Dawn comes early. Get some rest. The answer will come when you're ready."
He left, and I sat alone with the document and my thoughts.
By the time grey light started filtering through the window, I'd made my decision.
I picked up my pen, signed my name at the bottom of the document, and pressed my seal into the wax.
Imperial Warden.
Bound to the Crown.
Choosing power over freedom because power was the only way to actually change things.
I set down the pen and looked at my signature, permanent and irreversible.
No going back now.
Only forward.
Into the cage I'd chosen, carrying chains I'd accepted, hoping I was strong enough to keep being myself despite everything trying to reshape me.
Dawn broke.