A breathless pause filled the grove.

Eloquin turned to Mord. "Signal Hyve. Aspirants are to be on alert. If any move is made against any of our students, Lady Putrice and her pawns are to be cut down to the last man."

Mord's smile was a dark thing as he slipped free a copper horn and blew a long haunting note that hung in the air.

Malek chuckled softly. “The Aspirants have been keeping secrets.”

“We have a few codes that serve us well enough, Malek. We are not the fools you would take us for, however deliciously devious your ways are, compared to Hyve's.”

Eloquin nodded. “The Aspirants know. Hyve already knows my suspicions. Every Squire who fails to blacken his dagger this night, every Aspirant who will not heed the call, redeem themselves keeping watch over the sheep within our walls.”

Malek blinked, gazing at his commander in growing awe. "You knew. Or at least, you suspected. All of this. Am I right?"

Eloquin's gaze was hard. "The clues were there for those with the wit to see it. I knew Lady Putrice's goal was to flood the northlands with Velheim blood and sway ties of influence and loyalty under Velheim's and particularly her own clan's banner." He scowled. "I did not realize how ruthless and multifaceted this infection had become, and I had only an inkling that Putrice was involved in the flesh trade."

The words washed over Jess, gazing into vacant eyes that had been so alive and filled with desperate hope, but minutes ago. Infatuated with her beauty but too shy to say it back when it might have changed everything, his head now hung at a horrid angle, lifeless and still.

“It had to be done.” Words ruthless and cold washed over her. “Now, Calenbry, explain to me why.”

"Because had we attempted to capture him... students on an unlawful mission constraining a recognized noble of a neighbor our king presently honors treaties with, based on confessions made under duress that he can recant in a heartbeat...his imprisonment would only have lasted until his screams for help were heard, and then it would be us under inquisition."

A cold nod. “What else.”

"Just his appearance, even had you truly broken and mastered him, would have alerted both the guard and stableboy in Putrice's pocket. She would have known, and, somehow, one or more of the scions under her wing would have rushed off to alert all vulnerable parties." Jess frowned. "And if it would have been hard to contain Gaines, it would have been impossible for us to barge into a gala sanctioned by our school, constraining twenty noble guests and a tenured professor at sword's point."

Jess squeezed shut eyes still hot with tears. "Nor could we pretend ourselves to be mere rogues, or anything other than who and what we are. He recognized us as Squires. Twice, he revealed that he knew exactly who you were, General Eloquin. There is no way we would not have been censured, banished to our lands at the very least, enemies at court screaming treason and madness so as to claim the assets of whoever among us holds wealth in our own name. Of a certain, the king's secret project flying under your blackened banner would have died before it could even blossom, which would suit a power-hungry Velheim as well as anything else this evening."

Eloquin gazed at Jess with a fierce sort of pride that left Jess shaken to her core. A savage, bloodstained wolf whose regard she would kill and die for, and the horror of that truth rocked her still.

For it had been her arms that had snapped Gaines' neck.