She left without another word, leaving me to dress in solitude. The silence that followed stung. Scythe would have been the one lacing my gown and fussing over details.
I wasn’t ready to replace her.
After some rummaging, I found black breeches and tugged them on. The gown’s blood-red fabric draped in soft, elegant waves, the slit climbing high along my thigh. Scythe had always loved this style—bold enough to scandalize Radaanian women, though the legs remained covered.
The dress left my arms bare, the neckline dipping low before curving around my shoulders. Without Edith to lace the back, the fit hung loose. I tugged on tall, black-heeled boots—impractical for a fight but perfect for staring down anyone complicit in last night’s chaos.
At the jewelry case, I chose rubies and onyx. The scarlet necklace fastened at my throat like a bloody slash, the gemstones catching the light with every breath. I wanted everyone to see what was attempted. Let them choke on their failure.
I combed through my hair, each stroke unraveling a thought I couldn’t ignore. At some point, I’d need to write to my father, to tell him what happened. Kallias would send his own missive. Still, Father’s reaction loomed over me like a gathering storm.
My hand froze mid-air, brush caught between locks. His rage would come swift and unrelenting. His love burned, protective to the point of destruction when someone harmed his own. He wasn’t always rational in anger, though Mother often tempered him.
His wrath turning toward the king made me uneasy. They had never met, and I cared little about Father’s opinion of Tallon—unless he decided to break the blood oath. But Kallias? I wanted him to earn my father’s favor.
The message would take weeks to reach Draconia, assuming the whirlstorms broke long enough for safe passage. Until then, I could only wait, bracing for what might come.
Edith’s return snapped through my thoughts. In her hands, she held a cloth-wrapped object. “Princess, there’s no sheath.”
“I know.”
I rose, unwrapping the white linen to reveal the dagger’s gleaming blade. From the chest at the foot of my bed, I pulled a black scarf, knotting it around my thigh. The weapon settled against my leg, concealed beneath my skirts. Crude, perhaps, but sufficient.
Edith made a strangled noise of protest, the kind that might have once earned my attention. Now, I didn’t even glance her way.
“Lace the dress, please,” I ordered, tugging the scarf tighter. The edge in my tone left no room for argument.
She stepped behind me, her fingers quick and practiced as she pulled the laces taut. The gown molded to my frame, cinching my waist and draping in crimson waves. Though red wasn’t my favorite, tonight it suited me. The color held its own kind of power, one I intended to wield.
With the bodice secured, Edith turned her attention to my hair, arranging it in intricate, loose curls that framed my face. She crowned the style with a pearl-studded tiara, the soft shimmer of its surface at odds with the fire rising beneath my skin.
As I made to leave, Edith’s quiet voice halted me at the threshold. “Princess,” she whispered, her plea carrying a weight she dared not speak aloud. “Please be safe.”
I nodded, then took my leave. When I pulled the door open, I barely had time to react before a gasp choked off my breath. I snapped my mouth shut with a click.
The man before me filled the doorway, a towering figure draped in dark leather armor. Only his pale skin was visible at his neck and face, even his hands covered by gloves. A jagged swirl of black ink curled from his hairline, skimming the corner of his eye, and winding beneath his jaw.
Brown eyes, cold as tempered steel, locked onto mine. Despite the anxiety rippling through me, the calm demeanor of the guards flanking the doorway stayed my hand. This man wasn’t here to harm me—not right now, at least.
Metal glinted across his armor, an array of blades strapped to every surface. Some weapons I recognized, others baffled me with their odd shapes. Two short swords rested against his back, their hilts jutting over his shoulders, adding to the impression of sheer, unrelenting size.
A Thresher. Just like last night.
“You’re here to escort me?” I asked, my voice catching before I cleared my throat. Even with the added height of my boots, I hated how far I had to tilt my chin to meet his gaze.
He didn’t reply. He inclined his head and stepped aside.
Silent and deadly—just what I needed tonight.
The halls stretched long as we headed toward the dining hall. To my surprise, the six guards clad in plate armor remained behind. Only the Thresher stayed at my side.
By the time we arrived, the first course had already been served, and every gaze snapped my way as I crossed the threshold. With my chin raised and my stride unbroken, I walked toward the dais, ignoring the whispers that faded into silence behind me.
The Thresher followed, his imposing shadow drawing more attention than I cared for. Kallias sat at the head of the table, Darius beside him. Egath and Tallon were absent.
My steps faltered for the briefest moment. I would sit alone.
Loneliness dug at my chest. Fyrn and her endless questions would have been preferable to the isolation awaiting me.
