Twenty armed guards formed a semicircle around the warehouse entrance. Captain Harris, head of Ashford's town guard, dismounted from his horse. He was a decent man, Dante knew, but one who followed orders.
Marcus Thorne remained on his horse, safely behind the guards. His face was still red with humiliation and rage.
"Dante Blackwell!" Captain Harris called out. "You're under arrest for assault on a nobleman. Come out peacefully."
Inside the warehouse, Isabella grabbed Dante's arm. "This is my fault. I slapped him first. I'll tell them—"
"They don't care who started it," Dante said quietly. "Marcus wants me arrested, and he has the authority to make it happen."
Tom was pacing, panicked. "They'll hang you for striking a nobleman. Or worse, send you back to the capital for execution."
Dante had already calculated his options. He could fight his way through twenty guards—his training made it possible. But that would only prove Marcus right and make things worse for Isabella. He could run, disappear into the countryside, but that would leave Isabella defenseless against Marcus's revenge.
Or he could surrender and trust that the truth would matter eventually.
"I'm going out," Dante said.
"No!" Isabella's grip tightened. "Dante, they'll kill you."
"They'll try to make an example of me," Dante corrected. "But I've survived worse than Marcus Thorne." He gently removed her hand from his arm. "Trust me. This isn't over."
Before Isabella could protest further, Dante walked to the warehouse entrance and stepped outside. The crowd from earlier had grown larger. Half of Ashford seemed to be watching.
"I'm here, Captain," Dante said calmly, raising his hands.
Captain Harris looked relieved that Dante wasn't resisting. "Dante Blackwell, you're charged with assaulting Lord Marcus Thorne and his guards. You'll be held in custody until—"
"He attacked me first!" Marcus shouted from his horse. "The traitor put his hands on nobility! He threatened my life!"
"That's a lie!" Isabella burst from the warehouse. "Marcus grabbed me! Dante was defending me!"
"The word of a desperate merchant girl against a lord of the realm," Marcus sneered. "Who do you think they'll believe?"
Captain Harris looked uncomfortable. "Miss Grey, please step back. This is official guard business."
"Official business?" Old Man Fischer pushed through the crowd. "I saw the whole thing! Lord Thorne grabbed Miss Isabella first! The boy was protecting her!"
Several other townspeople shouted in agreement. Marcus's face darkened.
"Captain Harris," Marcus said coldly. "Are you going to let a mob of commoners dictate how you enforce the law? Or do I need to report to the capital that Ashford's guard is incompetent?"
The threat hung in the air. Captain Harris's jaw tightened. He was trapped between truth and authority, between justice and power.
"I'm sorry, Dante," the captain said quietly. "I have to follow the procedure." He nodded to his men. "Take him to the holding cells."
Two guards moved forward with shackles. Dante didn't resist as they locked the iron around his wrists. The metal was cold and heavy, designed to humiliate as much as restrain.
Isabella was crying now. "This isn't right! He didn't do anything wrong!"
"He assaulted four of my guards and threatened a nobleman," Marcus said with satisfaction. "In the capital, such crimes carry the death penalty. But I'm merciful. If Miss Grey comes to see me tonight with a reasonable attitude, perhaps I could be persuaded to drop the charges."
The meaning was clear. Isabella's freedom for Dante's life.
Dante caught Isabella's eyes as the guards led him away. He shook his head slightly. Don't do it, the gesture said. Don't give in to him.
But Isabella's face was torn with guilt and fear. Dante could see her already breaking, already preparing to sacrifice herself.
The guards marched Dante through Ashford's streets toward the jail. People watched from windows and doorways. Some looked satisfied—the criminal finally getting justice. Others looked troubled, uncertain.
The jail was a small stone building near the town hall. The cells were basic but clean. Captain Harris personally locked Dante inside the largest cell.
"For what it's worth," the captain said quietly, "I believe you were defending Miss Grey. But Lord Thorne has connections in the capital. Real power. My hands are tied."
"I understand," Dante said. "You're just doing your job."
Captain Harris looked relieved that Dante wasn't angry with him. "I'll make sure you're fed and treated fairly. Beyond that..." He shrugged helplessly.
After the captain left, Dante sat on the cell's narrow bench and assessed his situation. The shackles were standard iron, nothing he couldn't break with the right leverage. The cell door's lock was simple. Three guards remained in the building, none particularly alert.
He could escape easily. But escape would only confirm his guilt and endanger Isabella further.
No, there was a better way. A way that would expose Marcus's true nature and force the capital to pay attention.
Hours passed. Dante meditated, centering himself the way General Stone had taught him. Clear mind, steady breath, patience.
As evening approached, footsteps echoed in the jail. Dante opened his eyes to see an unexpected visitor.
An old man in travel-worn clothes stood outside the cell. He was thin, weathered, with sharp eyes that missed nothing. The guards had let him pass without question, which meant he'd shown them, something official.
"Hello, Dante," the old man said quietly.
Dante's breath caught. "General Stone."
General Marcus Stone, legendary commander of the kingdom's armies, smiled slightly. "I was visiting a friend in the next town when word reached me about a warehouse worker who took down four trained fighters in under a minute." His eyes gleamed. "Recognized the description immediately."
"You shouldn't be here," Dante said. "If my brothers learn I've contacted you—"
"Your brothers," Stone interrupted, his voice hardening, "are precisely why I'm here. I've spent five years gathering evidence against Victor and Sebastian. Proof of their treason, their corruption, their crimes." He stepped closer to the bars. "But evidence alone isn't enough. I need leverage. I need a way to force the king to listen."
"The Dragon Tournament," Dante said, understanding immediately.
Stone nodded. "It begins in three weeks in the capital. Sixty-four competitors, all nobles or their champions, fighting for the king's favor. The winner gets an audience with the king himself—an audience that cannot be refused or dismissed. A chance to present any petition directly to the throne with guaranteed consideration."
"You want me to enter," Dante said.
"I want you to win," Stone corrected. "And when you do, we'll present every piece of evidence I've gathered. We'll expose your brothers and reclaim your name." He paused. "But you'll have to leave Ashford. Leave your exile. Come back into the light."
Dante thought of Isabella, of her father, of Marcus Thorne's threats.
"What about the people here? Marcus will hurt them the moment I leave."
Stone's expression was grim. "I've already arranged protection. Good men I trust will arrive tomorrow to watch over Miss Grey and her father. Marcus won't be able to touch them." He pulled out a sealed letter. "This is a royal permit granting you temporary freedom to compete in the tournament. Captain Harris will have to release you."
Dante stared at the letter. Five years of hiding, of being nobody, of accepting exile. All of it is ending now.
"There's something else," Stone said quietly. "Your mother. She died two years ago."
Pain lanced through Dante's chest. He'd known she was ill when he left, but hearing it confirmed...
"Did she..." Dante couldn't finish the question.
"She died believing you betrayed the family," Stone said gently. "Victor and Sebastian made sure of that. I'm sorry, Dante. But that's another reason to do this. To clear your name, even if she can't hear it."
Dante closed his eyes, grief and anger warring inside him. His mother had died thinking her son was a traitor. Victor and Sebastian had poisoned her final years with lies.
When he opened his eyes, they were hard as steel.
"Get me out of here," Dante said. "I'll win your tournament. And then I'll make my brothers answer for everything they've done."
Stone smiled and called for Captain Harris. But as the captain approached with keys, a commotion erupted outside. Guards shouted in alarm. Through the jail's small window, Dante saw smoke rising from the direction of the warehouse district. Someone was screaming that Grey Merchant Company was on fire.