Page 308 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

“Signs point that direction, yes.”

He tilted his head, that faintly smug little smile lighting up his dimples. “Glad to finally be of some use.”

Without another word, he turned and left. I stayed seated, locking eyes with Cyrus in a silent standoff I had every intention of winning.

“Tell me what you remember,” I ordered, jerking my chin toward the desk.

For the next hour, he wrote. War generals, commanders, royal bloodlines—more than I’d ever seen in my studies. Dozens of names omitted from Reyna’s records, no doubt torn from the pages on purpose.

The Hadriana empire had been formidable. I could see echoes of their tactics in Hazelharbor and Paladin. But it wasn’t until he got to the political marriage of Koa Balaskas and Rhiannon Hadrianna that something caught my attention.

They’d had seven children.

The firstborn: Bastien. Eighteen months later, Caius. A year and a half after that, their first daughter, Levana. Then Sirin. Then the twins—Marlana and Moros. And finally, three years later, another son: Agamemnon.

“Jesus,” I whispered. “That’s him. Cyrus, that’s him. August and I killed Agamemnon in the battle of Grayshell.”

He blinked down at his notes, brow furrowing. “I don’t understand.”

“He was a Renown. He kidnapped me and my brothers. They beat us so badly it triggered my ascension.”

“Freya…that’s impossible. All the Balaskas children were reported dead—except the twins.”

My blood iced over. “Bullshit,” I said, eyes wide. “I bit through his neck. I remember the taste of his rancid blood.”

“Fuck, we need to get you a new strategy.”

“It worked, didn’t it? August finished him.”

“Then…who died in the Ardensian War?”

“A lot of souls, I’d wager.”

“Ha-ha,” he said flatly. “I mean it. Agamemnon wasn’t mentioned after the Pyros fell. According to the records I’ve seen, only Marlana and Moros made it back alive.”

“But that…wait. Adrastos and Agamemnon were brothers. At least, that’s what he told Ally.”

A line cut into his brow. He blinked, as though that—of all things—was the most confusing part.

“Lonan told my mother that his brother Leo died.”

“Leo?”

“She looked surprised to hear it.”

“Could it have been a mistranslation?”

He was already shaking his head. “Shouldn’t have been. Most of the texts are in Umbrithan—shadow tongue⁠—”

“I know what Umbrithan is,” I snapped.

Unbothered, he pressed on. “Others are in Latin or Old English. Oh!” His eyes lit. “The third chamber.”

“You took a picture of the inscription.”

“Yeah. Haven’t had time to translate it.”

“Send it to me.” I tossed my phone onto the table just as Blaz returned. “You don’t happen to speak Latin, do you?”