Page 33 of Blood Ties

She didn’t stand. “You just told me it’s getting worse. That doesn’t sound like something likely to settle.”

“Distance will help.”

“It didn’t help when I tried it ten minutes ago.”

She was right. It was pissing me off how quickly that was becoming a habit.

I turned my face from her and pulled my free hand into my lap. The chains held the rest of me against the dais. Even if hunger took my judgement, I couldn’t reach the chair.

“Then move it farther back,” I said. “You need more room if the chain around my waist changes.”

Bryony dragged the chair another metre towards the service door. She kept the path to the royal rooms clear and the heavy torch close to her boot.

“Is that far enough?”

“For now.”

Her mouth curved. The brief warmth eased some of the pressure inside my chest, then the Crown pulled at the restraints again.

I felt the change in the chains a second before they moved. The left wrist cuff heated first. The restraint at my waist followed, drawing tight enough to press the old scars against my ribs.

Bryony noticed the shift and reached for the torch. She didn’t rush towards me or freeze in the chair. She watched my hands, my eyes and the amount of chain left on the floor.

Practical. Careful. Still here.

Red light travelled over the chain at my waist. Hunger tore through me as the court took another portion of the blood I’d drunk.

My free hand closed around the edge of the dais.

Bryony lost the smile. “What did it just do?”

“The Claiming is using my blood to power the seal around us. It wants you to choose between feeding me and taking the Crown.”

“Those aren’t the only choices.”

“The court has never been imaginative.”

She leaned forwards, forearms on her knees. “Give me the three rules that matter tonight. No history, no titles and no new rooms with their own personalities.”

I took a breath I didn’t need and organised the answer around survival.

“Your blood woke Harrowmere and sealed us inside. Blood you give freely to me weakens the chains one link at a time. Blood taken from you by force strengthens the Crown and the wards holding me. The Crown can command the court and its bound king, which is why Adrian needs you to accept it. He can’t put it on your head and take control himself. You have to choose it.”

Bryony listened without interrupting. “The flask wasn’t my blood, so it restored you but didn’t weaken anything. Edith’s key opened your wrist instead.”

“Yes. She gave us one free hand without making you feed a stranger on the floor.”

“And the blood Adrian forced onto the throne strengthened the red marks over the remaining chains.”

“Yes.”

“Who decides whether blood is freely given?”

“You do. Harrowmere can tell the difference between a choice and someone forcing your hand. If Adrian threatens you into feeding me, the blood strengthens the Crown instead. Fear doesn’t become consent because a court wants an answer.”

She looked at the dark metal above the throne. “So pushing me to decide quickly could make everything worse.”

“Yes. That’s why I want you in the bedroom with enough distance to think.”