“I didn’t ask to be born into this. I didn’t want a throne. I didn’t choose privilege. I try to be decent, even when people like you treat me like I’m the enemy just for existing.”
“You still haven’t figured out what your family did to us?” he said, getting closer to me.
He cannot kill me, I thought. He cannot kill me. He got even closer. My heart was pounding with fear and adrenaline. I was tall, but he was massive. His face was above mine.
“Your family destroyed my whole world,” Lorik said, each word carved with cold precision. “And you come here to apologize in the most insincere way possible, making it all about you, about your guilt, about how you feel. Like that somehow washes the blood clean.”
His voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to.
“Your family kills first and never ask questions. The Solenhart throne condemns without trial. Your royals rewrite truth whenever it’s convenient for them.”
The words hit harder than any blow he could’ve thrown.
I couldn’t speak. Because he was right. I had made it about me. About my shame, my confusion, about my need to feel like a better person than my own lineage.
He looked past me then, as if I were no longer worth his attention. The hatred in his tone was real, but controlled, measured, almost surgical. A blade delivered with purpose, not heat.
Finally, he looked back and stepped away.
“Your boyfriend is here,” he said, voice low and sharp. “This conversation’s over.”
I stood frozen, his words still ringing through my chest, scraping against bone. My breath caught, hot and useless.
I swallowed hard. My pulse was still racing when I heard familiar and quick footsteps. “Leave her alone!”
The voice slammed into the quiet like thunder striking glass, sharp and unmistakable. Thalen.
He was already stalking toward us, jaw clenched, magic sparking faintly at his fingertips.
Shame ignited into anger very fast, blazing.
“You cannot kill her,” Thalen hissed again.
“Well aware, Barret,” Lorik replied, not even bothering to look his way. “But you’re in the wrong atrium. This is Dragontail territory. Leave. And remember—I can kill you.”
“You won’t touch her,” Thalen shot back. “I won’t let you.”
“I don’t need saving, Thalen,” I snapped, spinning to face him. “I’m fine.”
Behind me, I heard the back door creak. Lorik was already walking away through the back door.
Thalen caught my arm, not hard but firm enough. “What were you thinking?”
“He is my counselor, so I thought of apologizing for whatever my family did and actually figure out why he hates us,” I snapped. “You could’ve told me yesterday when I asked. You completely evaded the question.”
His jaw tightened. “Yes, he hates the Solenhart throne and probably my father even more. But the reason he hates us matters a hell of a lot less than the fact that Beatrix Solenhart, the queen, is here and... she is furious.”
Chapter 6: The Queen
Thalen walked me to the headmaster’s office, where the queen was waiting. He kept pace at my side just like he used to in the Glass Castle, his hand a steady presence at my back, his shoulder brushing mine. For a moment, it almost felt like home again. Like I wasn’t entirely alone.
Somewhere along that quiet corridor, I made him tell me the truth. Why did Lorik Draventh despise the Solenhart throne? Suddenly, it all clicked into place. I wasn’t surprised. Not really. Deep down, I knew the reason: blood had been spilled. My family was ruthless. My mother was ruthless. That was the very reason I never wanted the crown. But I didn’t have the luxury of guilt, not when I was about to stand before her.
I stopped before the headmaster’s door, inhaled once, and pushed it open. The room felt colder than it should have.
My mother stood as judgment incarnate, framed before the tall arched window, sunlight slicing around her like a blade. I hovered at the threshold, the door solid at my back.
It was only the two of us.
