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The prince followed her gaze and groaned, though he shifted to stand before her and held his knife and stolen polearm ready. “Fine. I'll buy you as much time as I can.”
Gratitude washed over her. “I'll be back.” Then she turned and ran, taking the dais steps two at a time.
“I would have gladly lived every day in your shadow.” Gil raised his voice; Lucan had retreated farther and now cowered behind one of the grand pillars.
“Only until you knew!” The king clawed at the pillar as if he wished to climb it, or perhaps burrow into the stone.
Gil stopped. Uncertainty and dismay warred on his face. Neither emerged victorious; instead, the familiar mask of steel resolve slipped into place, cold and hard.
Thea's heart sank.
No one had slipped past their defenses.
No one had escaped without a trace.
The betrayal had come from within.
Slowly, Gil's hands went to his daggers. “I would have followed you to the ends of the earth.”
Fear stole the color from Lucan's face. “And so you have.” One hand dipped beneath his robes.
“Thea!” Rilion shouted.
She spun just in time to dodge the spear aimed for her head. She darted close and struck.
Metal rang behind the pillars. “You refused me!” Lucan snarled as he met Gil's daggers with a blade of his own. “Turned against me in my hour of need. I gave you an honor, having you execute the traitors in our midst, but you turned against me and joined their uprising. I tested you and you failed!”
“There was no uprising,” Gil snapped. Their blades clashed again. “There were no traitors. Only innocents you sent to the axe.”
Innocents.
Thea's heart skipped a beat. Her second stab went wide and glanced off the guard's armor. The dagger bounced back hard and she lost her grip.
The guard lunged forward and seized her arms.
Memories—nightmares—swirled through her head. Her brother's face. The headsman's axe.
Execute the traitors.
“Rilion!” Gil's shout snapped her back.
She twisted in the guard's grasp and tried to stomp his foot, but he wore sturdy boots and her heel made poor contact. Her eyes darted toward Rilion, fearful for what she might see, but he was running toward her. He was not the one who needed help.
“Take her,” Gil ordered. Lucan was down before him, gasping for breath, hands up, pleading.
Thea's throat tightened. “No—”
“I do not wish for you to see.” He didn't so much as look her way.
Again, thoughts of her brother surged.Don't look, Thea.
Tears flooded her eyes.
Don't look.
Rilion seized her arm and ran for the door as the tangle of bodies there cleared and a new rush of guards began. She tried to resist, to linger and help Gil's fight, but Rilion's grip was too determined. They reached the door and the prince shoved her behind him as he spun his stolen halberd. He'd changed hands again; he fought with the polearm and struck with the dagger when he knocked weapons aside and lunged close.
Her hand went to her dagger's sheath out of reflex before she remembered the blade was gone. She needed a weapon. A blade. Anything.
