Page 65 of Of Masks and Fury

Isi repeated what she’d told him at the bridge, her voice steady. She’d learned this trick from the Day of Mercy executions, I realized. How to distance herself from horror by reciting facts.

When she finished, the king set down his glass. “You moved quickly.” His tone contained no praise. “Quickly enough that Blain barely reached you in time.”

The air in the room thickened.

“Fear gives one strength.” Isi met his gaze without flinching. “I was fighting for my life.”

The king’s eyes narrowed, searching her face.

Silence stretched between them. I kept my breathing even, my posture relaxed, but every muscle remained coiled, ready to move if this conversation turned dangerous.

Finally, the king leaned back in his chair. “You’ve changed since your return from the cluster. Perhaps since before that.”

Isi didn’t respond.

“I assume you went there to grieve. To find the sort of peace that would make you compliant. Instead, you came back harder. More defiant than my daughter should be.”

“I grew up, Father.” Isi’s voice carried steel. “Grief has a way of forcing that.”

The king’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Perhaps. Or perhaps you learned things you shouldn’t have while there.” He shifted his attention to me. “And you, Blain. You’ve proven your worth tonight. You said you witnessed the attack. How far away were you when he drew the blade?”

“Three paces, Your Majesty. Standard escort distance.”

“And yet you couldn't stop it before the blade was drawn. A fraction slower and she’d be dead.”

“He looked ready to kiss her, and I wasn’t about to interrupt that.”

A total lie, but we would skate around the truth tonight.

“I see.” A frown appeared on the king’s face. “Is that correct, Amarissa? Was he going to kiss you?”

“Perhaps. It happened so fast. We were talking and he leaned close. Then he was pulling the blade.”

King Cyril stared at her for a long moment before he stood and crossed the room to the window, his reflection ghosting in the glass. “I’ll question Lords Alfred and Finley about their connections toCrestin. I’ll have my advisors investigate his finances, his correspondence, and his servants.” His hands clasped behind his back. “We’ll discover if anyone else is involved.”

He turned back to face us, and the torchlight caught the calculation in his eyes. “In the meantime, you will remain confined to the castle except for supervised excursions. Your remaining suitors will visit you in the parlor or in the dining room, under guard. You will choose one of them to marry within the week.”

Isi’s hands tightened in her lap. “Surely with the threat?—”

“That makes it more urgent, not less.” He moved closer, looming over her. “You need a husband, someone to protect you when I cannot.”

The irony was bitter enough to choke on. The threat had come from a suitor he’d chosen. A man he’d vetted and approved. And now he wanted her to choose another from the same poisoned pool.

My jaw ached from clenching it.

“As you wish,” Isi said.

The king nodded. “Good. Blain will escort you to your chambers and remain outside your door tonight. I’m assigning additional guards as well.”

Isi rose and curtsied.

As she walked toward the door, the king spoke again. “Amarissa.”

She turned.

His expression shifted into something I couldn’t quite read. Concern mixed with wariness, affection tangled with suspicion. He rounded his desk and briefly touched her shoulder before withdrawing his hand. The gesture appeared tender. “I’m glad you’re safe. You’re my daughter. I would not want to see you harmed.”

“Thank you.”