“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she shrieked, desperate to yank free of my hold.
But I did not relent. “Did he keep you around to warm his bed? Is that it? Did you offer your own parents to the Velli to gain their favor?”
“Let me go! He dragged me here!”
“You were a willing captor,” I snapped, savoring her terrified struggle. “It was you! You met the Northern Radaanians—secured their blood for the Velli to use them against Nienna.”
She flinched, small tremors of guilt and fear. She cried out, kicking at me.
“You, Fyrn’sol, snuck the bastard prince into the manor. You opened the gates for Tallon and his brood.”
“No! He took me here! He bit me!”
I dodged her kicks, pinning her to the ground. Fingers wrapped her throat, the threat immediate, lethal. It would be so easy to crush the life out of her. Her eyes bulged with fear, tears streaking her cheeks.
“We thought Tallon was the monster—but it was your heart that harbored true evil. Did you watch as he fed from your parents? When the Velli used them as a banquet, gnawing and tearing as if they were nothing more than meat—did you enjoy it?”
My hand tightened around her throat, fingers digging into the delicate skin beneath her jaw. She clutched my wrist, her attempts to pry me away weak, nails scraping uselessly against leather.
“Let me tell you a secret, Fyrn. Velli bites leave holes from their teeth. Small curves. Paired punctures. Your wounds, my dear, were self-inflicted. Where’s the weapon?”
“Here.” Greaves kicked a dainty, jewel-encrusted dagger out from under the bed. It caught on the rug and bounced to my feet. Dried blood stained the blade.
I glanced down at it, a low sound rumbling in my chest. “Did he give it to you as a last resort? If Father came to find him, your protection would be a mock wound?”
“He…” She choked, her throat grating beneath my palm as she fought for air. “He didn’t know.”
I smirked and released her. She gasped, coughing, hands flying to her neck as though she could shield it from my accusation.
“Smart, Fyrn. Always planning ahead. You could have been so much more.”
“My parents,” she wheezed.
“Alive, no thanks to you.”
Her gaze flickered toward the door. “I want to see Mother.”
“Perhaps she’ll visit you before your execution.” I rose, lip curling with disgust. Their own daughter betrayed them and her people. All for what? The favor of a halfbreed? Fyrn was no fool. She wouldn’t follow him for love alone. What had he offered her?
“I’m a noblewoman!” She remained on the ground, back pressed to the stone, instinct urging her to stay small.
“We beheaded quite a few nobles when we retook Reem.” I bared my teeth in a grin. “What is one more?”
“You bastard!”
I dropped to my knees. The impact jarred through bone. Gripping her chin, I forced her mouth open and reached inside, pinching her tongue between my fingers. It writhed against my nails, slick and frantic. I yanked hard enough that her head lifted off the floor.
With my other hand, I snatched her jeweled dagger and settled the sharp edge against her thrashing muscle. The blade bit, drawing a thin bead of red. She froze.
“I’ve taken whole hands for less.” I pressed my knee into her chest and lowered close, letting her feel the breath of my promise against her cheek. “Radaan would be blessed if I removed your traitorous tongue.”
Tears spilled down her face into her hair. Her body slackened beneath me. A broken sob rattled in her throat.
There was no pleasure in harming a woman. But there was cold satisfaction in watching an enemy understand the cost of betrayal.
I held the blade there for a breath. Then another. Long enough for her to know how close she stood to silence.
A lesser man would have cut.
