I lifted my chin, my resolve hardening, and prowled toward the end of the passage, following the sharp, ragged breaths.
Lynx grunted, stepping forward as I neared the source. I shot him a glare—his height gave him a better view—but he grimaced and stepped aside, allowing me to round the corner.
Tallon’s trousers hung low on his hips, clinging to his thighs, his tunic falling to cover his lower back. Fyrn stood pressed against the stall, her breath hitching, her hands pinned high above her head. Her skirts twisted around her waist, the fabric bunched, revealing pale skin.
My world tilted, each detail searing into my mind like a brand. Fyrn’s parted lips trembled. Tallon’s shoulders heaved as if he had run a mile. A shudder ran through me, clawing up my spine, my fists tightening as though they could crush the scene before me into nothingness. Vision red-tinged, I froze, the betrayal striking deeper than any blade could.
Tallon’s head jerked in my direction, a damp lock of hair stuck to his sweaty forehead.
Bile surged up my throat. My feet wouldn’t move. I couldn’t look away. His grin spread, savage, malicious.
Rage boiled through me, the heat burning my veins.
“How dare you!”
Fyrn, my only friend, twisted toward me. Her wide eyes locked with mine for an instant, but whatever she meant to say came out as a choked moan, silenced by Tallon’s hand pressing firmly against her spine. He shoved her back into place with a callousness that turned my stomach.
“You stay,” he growled, his tone as sharp and cruel as a whip.
Disgust surged through me, a cold wave that left me trembling. This was Tallon, my betrothed, the person who made my life in Radaan a quiet torment. Now he stood here, brazen and unrepentant, bedding someone I had trusted above all others. Fyrn wasn’t just a friend—she was supposed to be my anchor, the one person who had always been safe.
But here she was, exposed and vulnerable, her skirts tangled and her dignity stolen, in the shadow of a filthy stable. A fissure of betrayal cracked through my chest, cutting deeper than I thought possible.
“Care to join us, future wife?” His voice slithered, thick with venom, coiling around my heart like a poison.
I staggered back, my limbs heavy. He was monstrous. The prince was vile—but this? This was too much.
Lynx stepped in front of me, his body a solid wall between me and the nightmare unfolding.
I sucked in a shaky breath, stumbling from the stall. Away from the sad excuse of a man who wanted me broken—and Fyrn, the traitor I had once trusted.
There was no escape. How had I been so blind? How had I missed the signs?
My feet carried me farther, moving without thought, pulling me from the sounds of their shameful tryst. I didn’t know where I was going, only that I needed distance from the wretched scene.
Tallon would never leave me in peace. Marrying him would bind me, mind and body. My people were starving—what was the worth of my soul in the face of their suffering? I could break the blood oath, claim I wanted to return to my father, and he would let me. Kallias would let me.
Kallias.
I slammed into a stone wall, my vision spinning. I collapsed onto a crate in a shadowed alcove, my body heavy with grief. Lynx moved to shield me from sight, his back a silent barrier between me and the world.
Still, running blind wasn’t the answer. I needed a plan. The only light in this dark was the thought of being close to Kallias, but that light would burn my soul to ash. We could never be together.
But he would understand. He would anchor me in this storm, steady when I faltered.
I drew in a long, deliberate breath, letting the cool air fill my lungs, each second stretching to calm my pounding heart. The rhythm slowed, though my chest still felt tight, like it might split apart if I moved too quickly. No one would see me running through the palace—a fragile, broken girl. I wouldn’t shatter so openly. So I straightened, smoothing the trembling in my limbs with sheer force of will.
I was not just a girl—I was a princess. One day I would be queen. I would act like one.
A queen did not crumble. Composure was her shield; control was her weapon. She stood tall in the face of storms, never letting them see her bleed.
She shaped the world to her will.
And she got what she wanted.
My boots thudded against the stone, and Lynx’s steady pace matched mine as I pushed past a stablehand and into the harsh sunlight. It no longer felt warm, only cold and distant. I stormed through the gardens, forcing myself to slow, unwilling to run back into the palace.
How long had she been with him, tangled in secrets and shadows while I remained blind? The thought lodged in my chest like a splinter, raw and aching. Tallon’s betrayal stung, but the pain was dull, a distant echo of what I might have expected. It was the truth about Fyrn that cut deeper, jagged and unforgiving.
