Page 43 of Blood Ties

That helped.

The fire warmed the room. I hadn’t sat this far from the throne since Adrian chained me. After a century in one place, reaching a chair and sitting near a human woman felt like freedom.

Bryony ate the last bite and wiped a crumb from her thumb. “You said the Crown can command you. Can you command me?”

“I can use vampire compulsion on most humans. Your blood gives you more resistance, and Harrowmere may protect you inside the royal rooms. Neither makes you immune.”

She held my gaze. “How would I know you were doing it?”

“An ordinary instruction leaves your thoughts alone. Compulsion creates physical pressure. You may feel it behind your eyes or around your throat. The action can suddenly seem urgent, even when you didn’t want it a second earlier. If my words feel heavier than my voice, move away and say my name. That will tell me you’ve noticed it.”

“Would saying your name stop you?”

“If I’m in control, yes. If hunger has taken that control, distance and the chain matter more. Don’t argue with me while the pressure is active. Get behind the bedroom door and lock it.”

She considered the answer rather than looking for a hole in it. “And Adrian?”

“The same warning signs apply. He’ll attach the command to something you already want, because compulsion works better when it doesn’t feel like a fight. He may offer safety, freedom or a way to protect me. Judge the choice you had before he started speaking. If that choice vanishes, he’s pushing.”

“Then I keep the locked gate between us and assume every easy offer costs more than he says.”

“That’s an excellent rule even when vampires aren’t involved.”

She nodded and poured more water into my cup. “I’m not asking you to demonstrate.”

“Good. I wasn’t offering.”

The seriousness in her face eased. She trusted the answer, although she kept measuring the distance to the bedroom.

That was sensible.

She carried the empty plate to the kitchen and returned with bread, cheese and another jug of water. I moved the small table until it sat within my range. The chain scraped after me without tightening.

Bryony placed the food where she could reach it from either chair. She left the knife on the table instead of hiding it. Its handle pointed towards her.

The arrangement was practical. It also showed exactly how much trust I had earned. She would sit close enough to touch while keeping a weapon in reach.

I preferred that to blind faith.

Before I could sit, Bryony went to the bedroom and returned with Edith’s case. She put it on the table beside the knife.

“I said I was going to read these,” she said. “You can listen. If anything is wrong, you can explain it after I’ve finished.”

She took out the folded documents and read every page. Edith’s account of Cecily’s death was first. It said the Crown had taken control before I killed her. Edith had helped bind me because she couldn’t know what Cecily’s blood and my grief had done to me, but she had never believed Adrian’s claim that I killed for power.

The next page confirmed the blood rules I’d given Bryony. Blood offered freely to the bound king weakened his restraints. Blood taken through force fed the Crown and strengthened the court against him. The Crown had to be lifted by the heir. No regent could place it on her head and call the act willing.

The last document was a copy of Adrian’s regency appointment. It gave him authority to keep the court sealed and protect its people while Edith investigated the damaged Crown. It didn’t name him king or give him the right to conduct a coronation. Lenora Cade’s signature appeared under Edith’s.

Bryony put the pages into a neat stack. “So Adrian lied about the Crown being the only safe answer. Edith believed Cecily was being controlled, and she never gave him the powers he claims.”

“She also told you she helped chain me.”

“Yes. The documents support parts of your story. They don’t prove every choice you made after Cecily died.”

Edith had given her facts without choosing her trust for her. Bryony’s thumb paused over the uneven signature at the bottom of the last page. Grief reached me, quiet and sharp, and I let her have the silence.

She returned the documents to the case and locked it before bringing it back to the bedroom. When she sat down again, the knife remained within her reach.