Page 168 of Blood Curse

Still here.

I let my shoulders ease. She didn’t need me to cross the room. I didn’t need her to pretend the metal was quiet.

A vampire near the western doors spoke next. “What happens if someone leaves during a crisis?”

“They leave.”

“Even if we need them?”

“Need doesn’t create ownership.” I looked towards the open doors. “We can ask them to stay. We can tell them exactly what their departure will cost. We don’t drag them back or punish them for choosing differently.”

“And if they return?”

Mara got there first. “They wipe their boots. The lower passage has enough mud in it.”

“They return,” I said. “Leaving isn’t betrayal.”

The man in brown looked down at his ruined coat. “I may test the gate when this is over.”

“You’re considering leaving?”

“For a dry shirt first.”

He moved to the wall and accepted a spare coat from the vampire beside him. Nobody watched to see whether he headed for a door.

That mattered.

The old chair pressed against my spine. The wrapped dagger remained warm under my coat, pressing against my ribs, a reminder that choosing responsibility didn’t make me safe from bad judgement.

The Crown wanted a declaration. I could feel its attention fixed on the dais, waiting for me to turn practical promises into permanent law. My voice couldn’t compel the court now that the inherited oaths were gone. Habit still could. People who had spent years obeying kings might follow an ordinary sentence before remembering they were free to refuse it.

That danger wasn’t magical.

It was mine to avoid.

The Crown’s light ran down Bryony’s temple and vanished under her hair. The black points looked sharper against her skin.

I kept my voice level. “While the Crown exists, direct commands remain dangerous. We contain the person it takes. We protect anyone in immediate danger. When choice returns, blame stays with the thing wearing Bryony’s voice.”

The young vampire who had carried the sand bucket shook his head. “What if one of us enjoys what it orders?”

The room went quiet.

He stared at his hands. “It made the blood feel good. I stayed back, but part of me wanted someone else to move first so I could follow.”

“Hunger isn’t guilt,” Elias said.

The young man frowned at me. “That’s easy for a physician to say.”

“It’s easy for a king too,” I replied. “So I won’t say it.”

Elias gave me an unimpressed look.

I leaned forward. “You wanted blood. You chose not to hurt anyone. I care about the choice. If you stop controlling the hunger, we stop you. After that, we deal with what you chose to do while your body was yours.”

The young man swallowed. “And if I can’t live with wanting it?”

“Then you speak to Elias, Mara or someone who doesn’t irritate you. You don’t turn shame into another weapon for the Crown.”