It didn’t move.
I rammed it harder, but it stayed in place.
A scuffle of footsteps sounded behind me.
“Please—just—help!” I screamed, pounding my fist against the wood. “Help me!”
When it jerked free, a firm hand grabbed mine, yanking me through. The ragged doorframe scraped my nightgown, tearing it with a sickening rip. I spun, scrambling back on my rear, eyes glued to the opening.
“Greaves, now!” came a sharp order.
A muscular man, wearing only underbreeches, clutching a sword, darted into the darkened passage. My breaths rushed in desperate gasps, but I stumbled forward to follow. He had no light. He didn’t know the way.
Rough hands seized my waist, lifting me off the ground. A half-naked stranger dragged me through a maze of shadowed rooms. I clawed at his arm, my body thrashing to break free.
“Let me go!” I screamed, twisting, thrashing.
He grunted at my resistance, then kicked open a door. “Assassin! Lock Reem down! Guards!”
Chaos exploded. Metal clanked as men poured in, fanning out through the rooms. Lanterns flared to life, casting harsh beams over the earth-toned walls.
The man stepped back, and recognition slammed into me. Kallias stood there, his large hand settling on my shoulder. His eyes, sharp as steel, followed every movement of the soldiers.
I made it to his rooms.
My knees buckled. The world tilted, and I stumbled. Shouts echoed down the corridors.
He caught my arm, his gaze scanning me in a cold, quick sweep. “Fetch a healer!”
“I’m fine,” I snapped, pulling away. I wasn’t hurt.
Not physically.
But my heart pounded, too loud, too fast, threatening to burst. I looked down at my nightgown, stained dark with blood, threads of web and debris clinging to the lace. A ragged tear split the fabric from my hip to the hem, and I tugged at it, trying to hold it together.
“Rooms are cleared, Your Majesty!” A guard called, jogging over to us. “We’ll station two in each room while we search the palace.”
Kallias’ gaze locked on me. “How many were there?”
I stared at my toes, blood splattered across the fair skin. Was it Scythe’s? Or the assassin’s?
“Nienna, how many?”
The panic in my chest made my breath catch. I crossed my arms over myself, fighting the tremors. “At least two. One we killed. The other was in the passages. I don’t know if there were others.”
“I want a report of the palace in fifteen minutes, and Reem within the hour.” His command cracked the air, and the guard saluted before darting out.
I shivered, my vision swimming with tears. My knee buckled again. I reached for something—anything to steady myself—but found nothing.
Kallias grabbed my arm, steadying me, but I pulled away with a whimper. He couldn’t touch me. Not now. Not with the guards here.
A cold surge of instinct swept over, screaming that I had to create distance between us. I was in a shredded nightgown, thin as a spider’s web. He stood beside the door, only linen trousers clinging to his hips, exposing too much of his skin.
Scythe was dead. But I couldn’t face it. As a princess, I was meant to accept these threats to my life.
I forced down a sob, lifting my chin, standing taller. His jaw clenched, his hand curling into a fist as his eyes swept over me. They lingered, cataloging every drop of blood.
Scythe was gone.
