a P

the Citadel. But I knew better. His visit wasn't just an

t make my

even tried to push the ruined door back into its frame, making it look less like a scene

ade with long, steady strokes. The rhythmic scrape of steel on stone was a soothing sound in th

a new set of footsteps stopped outside my b

e taps on the splintered wood. It was a

dagger and wen

essed in a gown of emerald silk that must have cost more than I had earned in a lifetime of service. Victoria w

ver me, taking in my simple black un

lse sympathy. "If it isn't our 'former' Royal Protec

ust looked at her,

the doorframe and sauntered into my room, inspecting it

dusty surface of my small table. "It's no wonder the King chose dear Isabelle. A

t seem to breach. The scraping sound of my dagger o

to annoy her. She wanted me to cr

and sweet. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, like a snake's hiss. "Thinking abo

shed steel of my dagger. The blade refl

athetic. Did you really think he was pining away for you al

in the air. I could feel her watchin

t give

oison for last. "Did you really think the King never

lding the d

" she whispered triumphantly. "Why do you think the King made a tour

es' were just an excuse. He went to see her, every sin

tilted o

' in the North, his heavy cloak carrying a faint, sweet scent. A rare w

d him abou

ust a strange flower I pas

had never, not for o

t battles, patching my own wounds in this cold, lonely room... he w

e sacrifices, the scars.

ere a

d I was th

n the public humiliation. This was a betrayal that reached back in time and p

dy fractured, fi

I slowly, deliberately, picked up the whetston

Scrape

. "You're a boring creature," she sniffed, turning to leave. "D

ehind her, leaving me

, and the only thing that was moving was my hand, making my weapon ready. The col