CHAPTER SIXTEEN TREW #2
Isi repeated what she’d told him at the bridge, her voice steady. She’d learned this trick from the Day of Mercy executions, I realized. How to distance herself from horror by reciting facts.
When she finished, the king set down his glass. “You moved quickly.” His tone contained no praise. “Quickly enough that Blain barely reached you in time.”
The air in the room thickened.
“Fear gives one strength.” Isi met his gaze without flinching. “I was fighting for my life.”
The king’s eyes narrowed, searching her face.
Silence stretched between them. I kept my breathing even, my posture relaxed, but every muscle remained coiled, ready to move if this conversation turned dangerous.
Finally, the king leaned back in his chair. “You’ve changed since your return from the cluster. Perhaps since before that.”
Isi didn’t respond.
“I assume you went there to grieve. To find the sort of peace that would make you compliant. Instead, you came back harder. More defiant than my daughter should be.”
“I grew up, Father.” Isi’s voice carried steel. “Grief has a way of forcing that.”
The king’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Perhaps. Or perhaps you learned things you shouldn’t have while there.” He shifted his attention to me. “And you, Blain. You’ve proven your worth tonight. You said you witnessed the attack. How far away were you when he drew the blade?”
“Three paces, Your Majesty. Standard escort distance.”
“And yet you couldn't stop it before the blade was drawn. A fraction slower and she’d be dead.”
“He looked ready to kiss her, and I wasn’t about to interrupt that.”
A total lie, but we would skate around the truth tonight.
“I see.” A frown appeared on the king’s face. “Is that correct, Amarissa? Was he going to kiss you?”
“Perhaps. It happened so fast. We were talking and he leaned close. Then he was pulling the blade.”
King Cyril stared at her for a long moment before he stood and crossed the room to the window, his reflection ghosting in the glass.
“I’ll question Lords Alfred and Finley about their connections to Crestin.
I’ll have my advisors investigate his finances, his correspondence, and his servants.
” His hands clasped behind his back. “We’ll discover if anyone else is involved. ”
He turned back to face us, and the torchlight caught the calculation in his eyes.
“In the meantime, you will remain confined to the castle except for supervised excursions. Your remaining suitors will visit you in the parlor or in the dining room, under guard. You will choose one of them to marry within the week.”
Isi’s hands tightened in her lap. “Surely with the threat—”
“That makes it more urgent, not less.” He moved closer, looming over her. “You need a husband, someone to protect you when I cannot.”
The irony was bitter enough to choke on. The threat had come from a suitor he’d chosen. A man he’d vetted and approved. And now he wanted her to choose another from the same poisoned pool.
My jaw ached from clenching it.
“As you wish,” Isi said.
The king nodded. “Good. Blain will escort you to your chambers and remain outside your door tonight. I’m assigning additional guards as well.”
Isi rose and curtsied.
As she walked toward the door, the king spoke again. “Amarissa.”
She turned.
His expression shifted into something I couldn’t quite read.
Concern mixed with wariness, affection tangled with suspicion.
He rounded his desk and briefly touched her shoulder before withdrawing his hand.
The gesture appeared tender. “I’m glad you’re safe.
You’re my daughter. I would not want to see you harmed. ”
“Thank you.”
I opened the door for her, and we stepped into the corridor.
The walk to her chambers felt endless. Our footsteps echoed off the stone walls, marking time I wanted to collapse into nothing.
Four new guards materialized from a side passage, all wearing the silver clasps of the king’s personal detail.
They fell into formation around us without a word, creating a box that felt more like a cage than protection.
There was no chance for private conversation. No moment where I could check on her properly, touch her hand, or see if she was truly whole beneath her carefully constructed composure.
Pherin huddled against her neck. The bird’s eyes tracked the guards, tension quivering in her small body. She wanted to shift, to show these men what she truly was. The restraint it took to remain small and appear vulnerable must be torture.
I knew how she felt.
We reached Isi’s suite. The new guards took up positions flanking the door, their hands resting on sword hilts.
“I’ll check the interior,” I said, already moving toward the door.
Isi entered, and I followed her into the sitting room.
I moved through the rooms quickly, checking windows and examining dark corners, ensuring no one had entered and remained while we were gone. My hands wove subtle threads of awareness as I moved, magic so faint it wouldn’t register to anyone without significant power of their own.
Clear. Empty. Safe as anywhere in this cursed castle could be.
When I returned to the sitting room, one of the new guards stood in the doorway. “Sir, our orders are that no one remains inside the princess’s chambers unattended other than her ladies.”
My jaw tightened. “I needed to ensure the rooms are secure.”
“And you have, but you will remain outside now. The king was quite specific.”
I looked at Isi, and everything I couldn’t say blazed between us. Frustration and helplessness warred in my chest, tangling with the desperate need to hold her, to promise her we’d find a way through this nightmare.
She gave me the smallest nod, understanding written in every line of her face.
“Thank you, Blain,” she said, her voice perfectly neutral.
The formal distance between us stretched out my agony. She stood five paces away, close enough to touch if I crossed the space, far enough that the gulf appeared impossible to bridge.
I bowed. “Your Highness. I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”
If she called, I’d come. Guards be damned. Orders be damned. I’d slash through every barrier to reach her.
Her gaze softened.
I retreated to the corridor, and the door closed between us with a soft click.
The lock turned, the small sound like a blade sliding between my ribs.
I leaned against the wood, forcing myself to act casual, though I laid my hand flat against the surface.
On the other side, I knew she stood in the same position, her palm mirroring mine.
The faint echo of our bond thrummed through the barrier, carrying the ghost of her exhaustion and lingering shock, a warmth against my skin like fading sunlight. So close and yet impossibly far.
Inside the room, I heard soft footsteps. Movement as she crossed to her bedroom. The rustle of fabric as she likely removed her gown.
I closed my eyes, imagining her standing in her room. The exhaustion that must be crashing over her now that the adrenaline had faded. The trembling she’d suppressed while her father questioned her. The horror of killing a man, even in self-defense, even when he deserved it.
She was alone with all of it.
And I was trapped out here, pretending to be nothing more than a hired guard doing his duty.
One of the men shifted, his boots scraping against stone. “Long night, Blain?”
I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze. “Indeed.”
“The princess handled herself well.” He tilted his head, studying me. “Impressive for a lady.”
The casual dismissiveness grated like sand against my skin.
“She’s exceptional,” I said, the words coming out hard.
The guard’s eyes narrowed. “You seem quite invested in your charge.”
Dangerous ground.
I forced my posture to relax, taking on the professional distance expected of a bodyguard. “I take my duties seriously. His Majesty hired me to protect her. I failed to prevent the attack.” I let genuine frustration bleed into my voice. “That sits poorly.”
The guard nodded, seeming to accept the explanation.