Page 48 of Revert
He turned to Castiel, whose hand remained poised over his own sword, his posture unreadable. Whether he meant to join the guards or leap to my defense, I couldn’t tell. I only knew what I hoped.
“I do wonder whatyouthink, my son. Do we have reason to be concerned?”
Castiel was silent for a beat too long. When he finally spoke, his voice was cool, even. “If there was anything to be concerned about, I would have handled it.”
And I knew, all too well, how far he would go to handle me.
A dangerous pause settled between father and son. The air seemed to tighten, as if the throne room itself were listening—waiting to see who would flinch first.
“And have you?” His Majesty’s voice was deathly quiet, filled with warning that even the crown prince couldn’t get away with lying to him.
Castiel steadily met his father’s gaze. “Yes.”
The king smiled. “Good.” The word echoed like a verdict—final, absolute—and no less lethal for the civility with which it was delivered. He turned back to me. “Then I trust we understand each other, Princess.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” My throat was so dry I could hardly force the words out.
“Wonderful. Then we shall speak no more of it. I find even the most unpleasant matters fade quickly…when handled properly. After all, it’s only when left unattended that such things begin to fester. And wedohandle things properly in Thorndale, don’t we?”
I swallowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
His smirk deepened as he reached out, touching a finger to my chin, brief yet possessive. A reminder that like everything else, this mercy was just another performance, one he remained firmly in control of.
“You may go.”
I left the throne room on unsteady legs, spine held straight by sheer will alone. Only when the doors closed behind me did I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. My heart still pounded with the echo of threats disguised as civility, but I had survived. Barely.
But I knew better than to hope he had truly let the matter drop.
The corridor beyond the throne room was silent; my footsteps echoed unnaturally sharply down the stone hallway. I took the shortest route to the courtyard, desperate to escape the confining stone walls that made up my gilded cage, the suffocating weight of unseen eyes pressing in on all sides.
I needed to put as much distance between me and the king as possible. But no matter how far I ran, I could never truly escape—not while he held not only my life, but my father’s in his grasp.
The silence thickened as I neared the outer doors—toosilent. I couldn’t hear the sound of a single guard nearby, the usual courtiers and attendants nowhere in sight. The emptiness felt almost…calculated. Something was wrong.
I pivoted and quickened my pace in the opposite direction, each breath jagged in my throat. I needed to return to my chambers, or somewhere with witnesses, anywhere but this hollow corridor.
And then I felt it—a shift in air, a flicker of sudden movement. I spun just in time to catch the flash of steel.
A hooded figure detached from the shadows behind a pillar, masked in black from head to toe. Their dagger gleamed as itslashed towards me. I dodged, but not quickly enough. The blade sliced my shoulder; pain flared like fire, hot and immediate.
I cried out, stumbling back. My hand flew to the throbbing wound, already warm and wet with blood. I tried to scream to summon a guard, by the sound caught in my throat. It wouldn’t have mattered; the empty corridor wasn’t coincidence, but a strategic ploy. No one would be coming to my rescue.
The assassin knew it, too. The figure advanced slowly, like a predator savoring its kill. Behind the mask, dark eyes gleamed with cruel amusement. Even in my terror, something caught my attention…as though I’d seen those masked eyes before.
“How unfortunate to be wandering the halls alone, Princess,” the figure’s mocking voice sneered from beneath the hood. “Almost as if youwantedto disappear.”
“You won’t get away with this.” The words trembled from my lips, a hollow defense, born of desperation. Because we both knew who had ordered my death. The king’s punishment had come cloaked in shadow, delivered only after he’d savored the sight of me squirming beneath his feigned mercy. I had played perfectly into his hands, and now nothing could save me from his command.
The assassin’s head tilted, the movement fluid in the shadows of the hood. “Won’t I? There’s no one coming. I made sure of that.”
No. I couldn’t die. Not here. Not again.
I backed away until my spine met cold stone. The assassin slowly closed the distance, savoring my fear.
“Don’t worry.” The words were spoken softly. “It won’t take long.”
I didn’t have time to scream as the blade lifted for the killing blow.
