Chapter 1

"You rehearsed that line, Calder," I said. "Did you practice the guilty face too, or does it come naturally?"

A few people in the gallery sucked in a breath. Good. Let them hear me before they watched me die.

Calder's mouth tightened. He wore the tribunal's silver chain over a coat worth more than my entire apartment. The chain caught the firelight. So did the shard in his hand.

My shard.

"You stole restricted memories from the royal archive," he said. "You altered bloodline records. You sold military maps to Northbreak. The evidence is in your own memory crystal."

"Then play it."

"We already did."

"No, you played a copy. A bad one." I jerked against the guards. "The real shard has a seal on the inner edge. Show them."

Calder lifted the crystal higher. "You expect this tribunal to trust a disgraced archivist?"

"I expect them to use their eyes."

The tribunal chamber went tight and quiet. Every bench was full. Recorders leaned over their desks. Noble families had come to watch me lose my name, my license, and my head. They wanted a clean execution before supper.

At the front, Dorian Rusk stood beside the execution platform.

Northbreak's warden. The crown's favorite knife.

He had dragged me into chains three years ago when my first investigation exposed a border massacre. He had called me a liar then, too. Now he wore black armor under his coat, one hand resting near the blade at his hip.

His eyes met mine.

Cold gray. Steady. Annoyingly awake.

"Warden Rusk," Calder said, "you brought the prisoner alive as ordered. Will you confirm her identity?"

Dorian didn't look away from me. "Mara Vale. Forensic archivist. Charged with treason, memory theft, and conspiracy against the crown."

"And what is the sentence?"

His jaw shifted once. "Execution by memory extraction."

The words landed harder than the cuffs.

I laughed, though my throat burned. "You sound almost sorry."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Right. You only look at women like that when you're deciding where to put the knife."

A guard shoved me forward. My knees struck the stone step. Pain shot up my legs.

Dorian moved before I could catch my balance. His hand closed around my upper arm, hot through my torn sleeve. He pulled me upright so fast my back hit his chest.

The edge of his blade touched the soft skin under my jaw.

The entire chamber saw it.

His body pinned mine against the platform. Hard armor pressed into my spine. His breath brushed my ear, warm and controlled. He smelled like steel, smoke, and the bitter soap Northbreak soldiers used.

"Try anything," he murmured, "and I open your throat before the extractor does."

"You always were terrible at comforting people."

His fingers tightened around my arm. "You don't get comfort. You get a chance to stay alive long enough to answer questions."

"From you? I'd rather take the blade."

"Careful."

"What? You'll hurt me in front of all these people? That's the plan, isn't it?"

The blade pressed closer. A bright sting opened under my jaw.

Calder smiled. "There. Even she admits the warden has authority over her. Proceed."

Dorian's eyes narrowed, but he didn't lower the knife.

The tribunal's chief recorder stood and lifted a stamped order. "By command of the crown, the accused will surrender all stored memories. Her body will be examined for hidden seals. Her name will be removed from the archive rolls. Her property will be seized."

"And the shard?" I asked.

Calder turned it between his fingers. "Destroyed once the extraction confirms your guilt."

"You mean once it destroys the only proof that can expose you."

"You still think this is about proof?" He stepped down from the dais. "It's about obedience. You found a record you were never meant to see. You copied it. You hid it. Then you ran to Northbreak, hoping that border criminals would protect you."

"I ran because your men broke into my rooms."

"You ran because you were guilty."

"I ran because you were scared."

His smile vanished.

Dorian leaned closer behind me. His mouth was near my ear, but his voice was for the chamber. "Enough."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"I just did."

I could feel his pulse through the hand locked around my arm. Slow. Strong. Mine was hitting so hard it made my fingers shake.

Not fear. Not only fear.

I hated that he still had this effect on me. Hated the heat of him at my back. Hated that one shift of his hand could turn pain into something sharp and confusing.

So I did the only useful thing left.

I bit him.

My teeth sank into the base of his thumb.

Dorian swore. The blade jerked away from my throat. I drove my heel into his knee and twisted under his arm.

The guards grabbed for me, but Dorian caught my waist first. His palm spread across my ribs, dragging me back against him. His skin was hot where my teeth had broken it.

Then his hand began to burn.

A red line flashed across his palm.

Another crossed it.

The mark spread in the shape of an oath seal, bright as a brand beneath his skin.

My own palm answered.

Pain ripped through me. I looked down and saw the same mark burning across my hand.

The chamber erupted.

"The oath mark!"

"Impossible."

"Warden, release her!"

Dorian stared at his palm. For the first time, his control cracked. His fingers opened against my waist, then closed again like he couldn't decide whether to shove me away or hold on.

I stared at the mark too.

I knew that seal.

I had seen it in a forbidden bloodline record three years ago, beside a name that had been scratched out so violently the parchment had torn.

Dorian's gaze snapped to mine. "What did you do?"

"I bit you. Keep up."

"That isn't how oath marks work."

"Maybe your hand is more dramatic than you are."

Calder's face had gone white. He pointed at us. "Break the contact. Now."

The guards rushed in.

Dorian shoved me behind him. His injured hand came up, the glowing seal facing the tribunal. The mark pulsed once. Every memory crystal set into the walls cracked at the same time.

Glass rained across the floor.

People screamed.

"Don't touch her," Dorian ordered.

The guards stopped.

Calder recovered first. "Warden Rusk, you will restrain the prisoner."

Dorian's eyes stayed on the glowing mark. "The extraction chamber isn't stable."

"You heard me."

"If you activate it now, it may burn through both of us."

"Then you'll die doing your duty."

"You want that?" I asked. "Convenient. No witness left to question why your evidence has my seal missing."

Calder's stare cut to me. "Take her to the machine."

Two guards seized my shoulders.

Dorian grabbed the nearest one's wrist. "I said don't touch her."

"Warden," Calder snapped, "are you refusing a royal order?"

The room held its breath.

Dorian released the guard slowly. He looked at me, and the heat in his palm flared between us.

"No," he said. "I'm choosing the order that keeps her alive."

The guards dragged me toward the extractor.

I fought until one struck me in the stomach. Air punched out of my lungs. Dorian caught me before I hit the floor, one arm under my chest, his mouth close to my temple.

"Stop fighting," he said.

"Go to hell."

"I can get you out."

That made me freeze.

His grip tightened. "Listen carefully."

"You're whispering in my ear while your soldiers drag me toward a skull drill. I noticed."

"Seven days."

I turned my head. His cheek was inches from mine. "What?"

"A temporary oath. Seven days. You bind yourself to my protection, and I take you out of this chamber alive."

I almost laughed. "You dragged me here."

"And I'm the only person here who can stop the crown from killing you."

"What do you get?"

His eyes dropped to my mouth for half a second. Then they came back up. "Your memories. The truth about the mark."

"So a prettier cage."

"A cage keeps you breathing."

The extractor arms unlocked above the platform. Metal joints groaned as they lowered toward my head.

Calder raised the memory shard. "No deals with traitors. Start the machine."

Dorian pulled me against his chest. His blood-warm hand covered mine, forcing our burning marks together.

The oath seal flared.

My knees weakened. His arm locked around my waist, holding me upright. His lips brushed the edge of my ear as he spoke for the entire tribunal to hear.

"Mara Vale, I offer you seven days under my name. Take my oath, and the extractor—"