Page 29 of Thorns of Deceit: The Beast Within

Skylar’s eyebrow arched. “What have our… guests revealed, Captain?”

His hand tightened on his sword hilt, leather creaking in the tense silence. “Thorncrest’s ambitions haven’t waned, Your Grace. They still aim to rule over Regalclaw, claiming we’re—” He broke off, glancing uneasily to his right.

“Weak?” King Lyinell supplied, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.

“Unstable,” the Captain answered, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “They say we’re vulnerable without a holy tree of our own.”

The King snorted derisively. “If we were so weak, why would the Thousand-Year King seek our protection during Aequilibrium’s Year of Silence?”

The question hung unanswered. Skylar felt the shift in the room, the palpable tension as everyone weighed their words. She resisted the urge to turn and seek out Arye, to draw strength from his presence. But she could feel him far behind her, the heat of his stare searing into her back, making her skin prickle and her pulse quicken.

Advisor Hannington cleared his throat. The sound cracked through the strained silence like a whip. “Your Majesty, if I may… Thorncrest’s perception of our strength, misguided as it may be, could lead them to rash action. We must consider all possibilities.”

“Let them try,” Captain Knox growled, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. “We’ll show them just how ‘weak’ Regalclaw steel can be.”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd, a buzzing of angry wasps.

Skylar raised a hand, silencing the growing clamor. The room fell quiet immediately, as if she had cast a spell. Pride fluttered in her chest, quickly followed by a wave of guilt.

How much of their respect was earned, and how much was tied to her title?

“Before we entertain thoughts of war,” she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil within, “let’s consider all the information we have. Historian Flint, have you found something about Thorncrest’s holy tree?”

Flint startled, nearly knocking over an inkwell. The sharp scent of spilled ink cut through the air, mingling unpleasantly with the musty odor clinging to him. He tugged at his collar, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. “Y-yes, Your Grace. We’ve uncovered disturbing information.”

“Out with it, man,” the King demanded, impatience clear in his tone. His fingers drummed an agitated rhythm, each tap sending a jolt of tension through Skylar’s body.

Flint swallowed hard; his words quavered. “According to one of the captives, their Tree of Life has begun to bear fruit. The Spinewoods have been experimenting with them.”

A collective murmur rippled through the room. Skylar’s brow furrowed, foreboding settling in her gut like a lead weight. “Experimenting how?”

Leaning in close, Flint whispered, “They claim that the fruit can turn humans into… into monsters. Beings of immense strength and ferocity.”

“Did their tree ever have fruits before?”

“No, Your Grace,” the historian shook his head and pointed at one of his scrolls. “Never.”

The room erupted into chaos. Voices overlapped, rising in volume until the chamber rang with the cacophony. Each shout hurt Skylar’s senses.

“Silence!” King Lyinell’s voice boomed, cutting through the noise like a blade. He turned to Skylar, his eyes glinting dangerously. “Duke Anathemark, what do you make of this?”

Skylar inhaled slowly, tasting the tension in the air. “If true, it could alter the balance of power dramatically,” she began, her mind racing. “We need to confirm?—”

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room changed. Skylar felt it before she saw it—a shift in the energy, like the calm before a storm. Flint, standing across the table from her, visibly tensed, his eyes darting nervously to a point behind her. To her left, shecaught King Lyinell’s subtle grin, his gaze fixed on something—or someone—over her shoulder. Arye.

Without turning, she sensed his commanding presence filling the space as he pushed away from the wall. His footsteps echoed as he approached the table where she and the others stood. She heard each slow step. His movement was fluid, graceful, yet laden with purpose.

As Arye came to a stop beside her, taking his place to the right of his father, his arm brushed against hers, lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary. The touch sent a jolt through her, a spark of electricity that made her skin tingle. Heat bloomed where their bodies had connected, spreading through her like wildfire. Her breath caught in her throat, memories of that night in the inn flooding back with startling clarity.

Unbidden, the image of the stranger’s body beneath hers flashed through her mind. But in her fantasy, it hadn’t been a nameless man writhing in pleasure. It had been Arye, his storm-gray eyes dark with desire, his lips forming her name, begging for release. She could almost feel the heat of his skin, taste the salt on his neck, hear the low rumble of his voice in her ear.

Skylar silently cursed her traitorous thoughts, her skin prickling with sudden warmth. She clenched her jaw, willing the sensation to subside. Her nails dug into her palm as she pressed them hard, using the sharp pain to ground herself back in the present moment, only to find he had been watching her. There was anger there, and determination, but also something softer, more vulnerable. It was like looking into the eye of a hurricane, calm at the center but with destruction looming on all sides. Before she could decipher it, he turned away, addressing the council with a voice that brooked no argument.

“We will not be cowed by their threats or their supposed magical fruits,” Arye declared, his words ringing with authority. The air around him vibrated with intensity. “For now, wemaintain peace. But let it be known—any aggression from Thorncrest will be met with the full might of Regalclaw.”

“And what exactly does that entail, Your Highness?” Advisor Hannington pressed, his tone cautious. “Surely we must prioritize diplomatic options at all cost?”

Arye’s eyes flashed, a dangerous glint that sent a shiver down Skylar’s spine. When he spoke, his voice was low and intense, filled with a cold fury that made several advisors shift uneasily.

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