Page 66 of Of Masks and Fury

I opened the door for her, and we stepped into the corridor.

The walk to her chambers felt endless. Our footsteps echoed off the stone walls, marking time I wanted to collapse into nothing. Four new guards materialized from a side passage, all wearing the silver clasps of the king’s personal detail. They fell into formationaround us without a word, creating a box that felt more like a cage than protection.

There was no chance for private conversation. No moment where I could check on her properly, touch her hand, or see if she was truly whole beneath her carefully constructed composure.

Pherin huddled against her neck. The bird’s eyes tracked the guards, tension quivering in her small body. She wanted to shift, to show these men what she truly was. The restraint it took to remain small and appear vulnerable must be torture.

I knew how she felt.

We reached Isi’s suite. The new guards took up positions flanking the door, their hands resting on sword hilts.

“I’ll check the interior,” I said, already moving toward the door.

Isi entered, and I followed her into the sitting room.

I moved through the rooms quickly, checking windows and examining dark corners, ensuring no one had entered and remained while we were gone. My hands wove subtle threads of awareness as I moved, magic so faint it wouldn’t register to anyone without significant power of their own.

Clear. Empty. Safe as anywhere in this cursed castle could be.

When I returned to the sitting room, one of the new guards stood in the doorway. “Sir, our orders are that no one remains inside the princess’s chambers unattended other than her ladies.”

My jaw tightened. “I needed to ensure the rooms are secure.”

“And you have, but you will remain outside now. The king was quite specific.”

I looked at Isi, and everything I couldn’t say blazed between us. Frustration and helplessness warred in my chest, tangling with the desperate need to hold her, to promise her we’d find a way through this nightmare.

She gave me the smallest nod, understanding written in every line of her face.

“Thank you, Blain,” she said, her voice perfectly neutral.

The formal distance between us stretched out my agony. She stood five paces away, close enough to touch if I crossed the space, far enough that the gulf appeared impossible to bridge.

I bowed. “Your Highness. I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

If she called, I’d come. Guards be damned. Orders be damned. I’d slash through every barrier to reach her.

Her gaze softened.

I retreated to the corridor, and the door closed between us with a soft click.

The lock turned, the small sound like a blade sliding between my ribs.

I leaned against the wood, forcing myself to act casual, though I laid my hand flat against the surface. On the other side, I knew she stood in the same position, her palm mirroring mine. The faint echo of our bond thrummed through the barrier, carrying the ghost of her exhaustion and lingering shock, a warmth against my skin like fading sunlight. So close and yet impossibly far.

Inside the room, I heard soft footsteps. Movement as she crossed to her bedroom. The rustle of fabric as she likely removed her gown.

I closed my eyes, imagining her standing in her room. The exhaustion that must be crashing over her now that the adrenaline had faded. The trembling she’d suppressed while her father questioned her. The horror of killing a man, even in self-defense, even when he deserved it.

She was alone with all of it.

And I was trapped out here, pretending to be nothing more than a hired guard doing his duty.

One of the men shifted, his boots scraping against stone. “Long night, Blain?”

I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze. “Indeed.”

“The princess handled herself well.” He tilted his head, studying me. “Impressive for a lady.”