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Chapter 7
Roksana
Pain shot through me as I grasped the hilt of Irsha’s dagger and yanked him closer. I plastered a wide, fake smile across my face; it was more of a grimace as I ignored the pain.
‘Don’t you bloody dare,’ I whispered. His dagger scored my skin as I covered the wound with a voluminous sleeve.
The guests were leaving the audience room in an organised procession, so I had to hold him a moment longer before berating him.
Irsha went rigid, but he couldn’t escape without worsening the injury. His love for me was the only card I had to play in this dangerous situation. I gave my best performance as a queen instructing her personal guard. It worked like a charm. No one batted an eye, although a few Dark Fae gave me questioning looks.
‘What are you doing?’ Irsha’s voice was tense as he leaned forward, his eyes tracking the Lumivitae delegation lingering at the exit.
‘Stopping you from getting killed, you numbskull,’ I hissed as I pulled away.
Blood dripped from the cut, saturating the fabric. Not deep enough to cause a problem, but I hadn’t eaten today. Embarrassingly, my knees buckled, but a death grip on the assassin’s arm held me upright.
Irsha’s expression changed, and clarity returned to his eyes. His mouth opened, gaze flicking between the cut and the bloody dagger, and for a moment I thought he was going to faint.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Sana, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’ He almost dropped to his knees, but I stopped him. ‘You’re right, I’m an idiot, but… You saw what he did.’
‘I know, Blade, but you can’t assassinate a foreign envoy in the middle of a welcoming ceremony, no matter how much it hurts.’ I leaned on him even more, tightening my grasp on the wound to stem the bleeding. ‘To the preparation room. Now!’
Irsha nodded solemnly, wrapping an arm around my waist to support me and sheltering my injured forearm between us. Despite my best efforts, some droplets landed on the floor, their crimson tainted with the green opalescent sheen of my vivamancer’s magic.
The preparation room had a comfortable chair, a large mirror, and a table with snacks and wine—a simple setting for the king to compose himself before making a grand entrance.
The gilded door closed behind us. Irsha was trembling, his pupils blown wide, his breath ragged, and he threw the dagger at the table as if it burned him.
‘Gods, what was I thinking? I would never willingly hurt you, Trouble. You have to believe me.’ His eyes never left the widening stain on my sleeve.
‘Blade, don’t force me to poison you,’ I said, and he finally met my gaze. The devastation on his face hurt worse than the wound. I placed my good hand on his cheek. ‘Your heart was in the right place, and that’s why I love you. Now help me sort out this mess so we can focus on helping Lily. Can you grab a healer?’
We both turned when the doors to the room opened.
‘Dare I ask why there’s a trail of blood leading here?’ Alaric entered, an eyebrow rising at the view. ‘Your king asked me to check on you. Should I tell him you’re busy with your friend?’ Whatever he was implying, I could already picture Rey storming in here in a berserker fury.
‘He’s not that kind of friend. There’s a woman in the Light Fae delegation. We need to get her away from them, but Irsha lost his senses for a moment.’ I grabbed the dark fae’s sleeve, leaving a bloody imprint on the fabric. ‘You owe me a favour, and I need a healer.’
His gaze dropped to the deep gash running from my wrist to my elbow.
‘I can heal this, but the flesh will be sensitive, and it will leave the scar,’ he said, reaching for Irsha’s dagger and widening the tear in the fabric.
‘Just do it. Irsha, for fuck’s sake, don’t stand here like a maypole. Help him.’
My Blade grasped the fabric with both hands and ripped it clean up to my shoulder. ‘What will we do with Lily? That pale fuck still has her.’
‘As much as I’d love to see the arsehole dead, it can’t happen in front of his prince. Not while we don’t know where their loyalties lie.’ I winced when the fabric tugged at the edge of the wound. ‘Use that enormous head of yours and think. It can’t happen in the palace, but I have poisons whose symptoms won’t appear till long after he’s gone.’
‘Are you planning to kill Lumivitae’s Herald?’ Alaric asked, his eyes crinkling with a barely restrained smile. ‘Does Reynard know, or are you planning to hide it from the king?’
‘Hide? No. Protect him from the truth until he needs to know? Yes.’ I wondered why, out of all people, I had to trust this secret to a Dark Fae I barely knew. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll tell him today, once you help me. If he smells blood on me, any sense or reason will take a deep dive off a dragon’s eyrie.’
‘Then let’s get to it. We wouldn’t want the king going berserk.’ Alaric gestured me toward the small table. I winced as I sat on the polished surface. Irsha flinched as if I’d stabbed him. It was too much. I could take his guilt or my pain, but not both.
‘Blade, find a servant. I need Danka here with a new dress and bandages.’ He frowned but left via the rear exit. I nodded to Alaric. ‘Do it now, before he comes back.’
