Chapter 7 · The Throne Remembers

"By order of the Directorate, Helen Vale is no longer a person. Anyone who shelters her dies with her."

Marek's voice cut across the fortress yard.

My name sat on his lips like a death sentence. Behind him, three hundred soldiers stood in black armor, spears raised. Rafe was at my side, one hand hovering near his sword.

Not touching me.

Close enough that I felt his heat through my sleeve.

Marek lifted the decree higher. "You heard me. The woman beside the exile has no legal blood, no claim, and no protection. Kill her if she resists."

A soldier near the front tightened his grip.

I smiled at Marek. "You always did love giving speeches when your hands were dirty."

His jaw locked. "Kneel, Helen."

"You first."

A few soldiers glanced at each other.

Marek's face went flat.

That was his problem. He knew how to handle fear. Obedience, too. But he'd never learned what to do with a woman who'd already watched him kill her once.

Rafe leaned close. His breath brushed my ear.

"Tell me you've got a plan."

"I've got three."

"The honest one?"

"No."

The corner of his mouth almost moved. Rafe didn't waste smiles.