Page 74 of The Crown’s Temptation

Uralish was getting tired of this little guessing game.

"Then was this about the protectorate bond?"

Trophi's mouth moved, close to a smile. "Or something else altogether."

"Which is?"

He did not answer that either.

"You redirected an army away from a woman you were sworn to protect," Uralish said. "Explain that to me in a way that does not end with you in a cell."

Trophi looked at him. Then he smiled, cold and untroubled.

"Seems a bit irrelevant now, doesn't it?” he said. "Given she's dead."

Enovar and Syle were on him before Uralish could move.

The chair went over backward, Trophi with it, and Enovar was on him before he landed, dragging him up by the front of his coat.

"I trusted you," Enovar shouted. His voice cracked on it. “I left her with you. You were supposed to protect her.”

Syle's fist caught Trophi in the jaw a second later, silent the whole time, his face giving away nothing while his knuckles did the talking.

Trophi did not fight either of them. He spat blood onto the floor and said nothing.

Uralish made a short motion with his hand. Two Avanki stepped in from the corridor.

"Put him in the same accommodations we've given the Dowager," Uralish said.

"Colsar said watch and wait," Enovar said, still breathing hard, still holding Trophi's coat in one fist.

"My niece was poisoned." Uralish did not raise his voice. "I respect the man. But I will do no such thing."

The Avanki took Trophi by both arms. He did not resist. He looked back once, at Uralish, still wearing that same unbothered face, and said nothing further.

They led him out.

Enovar stood in the middle of the room, hands shaking, Trophi's blood drying on his knuckles. Syle flexed his own hand once and said nothing.

"Was that wise?” Enovar finally asked, quiet.

"No," Uralish said. He reached for his flask. "But it was satisfying."

He drank.

CHAPTER 14

The Memory Stone

Axar did not ask if I wanted to follow him. He simply walked and expected the rest to arrange itself accordingly. I followed because the alternative was standing in a dining hall that smelled of blood and burnt things, and I had already had enough of that for one evening.

The guest chamber he led me to was quieter than the rest of the palace. The walls here were plain, dark, and uninterested in fracturing my reflection into pieces. There was a bed, a table, a single candle that burned without flickering. It felt, for the first time since I had woken up in this place, like somewhere a person could exist without bracing.

He gestured toward the bed.

"Lie down."

"I don't know you."