“I’m curious,” Maximus continued as the second course was served, “how he will react when he learns you are the Executioner’s whore.”
The slur landed directly in the center of Greyson’s chest as if it were lighting a fuse. Rage ignited outward, searing through his veins as Shadera shifted forward in her seat beside him, preparing to lunge.
Greyson spoke before she could move.
“Show her some respect,” he said, each word edged with warning.
“Respect.” His father tasted the word. “Like the respect you have shown me by letting her parade around the Heart, bringing her to my table in that abomination?” He gestured to the mask.
“I wanted something that would honor both traditions,” Lira spoke up smoothly. “The Heart’s masking laws and Shadera’s background.”
Maximus’s eyes shifted to Lira, who met his gaze without flinching. “Her background,” Maximus repeated. “Please, Ms. Kael, do tell us about your background. I’m sure my wife would be fascinated to hear how the less fortunate manage.”
Elara’s mask turned toward Shadera, but she remained silent, her hands perfectly still on the table. Greyson had long ago stopped trying to interpret his mother’s silence—whether it was agreement, fear, or self-preservation.
“It’s difficult,” Shadera answered carefully. “Resources are limited.”
“By design.” Maximus nodded casually as if that fact wouldn’t enrage her. “Limited resources create dependence. Dependence creates control. Surely, as a Daggermouth, you understand the value of control?”
Greyson watched Shadera’s throat work as she swallowed. “I understand plenty. I understand that while the Boundary starves, while the Cardinal is worked like slaves so the elite don’t have to lift a finger, the Heart bathes in unnecessary luxury, in excess.”
Greyson sucked in a sharp breath.Don’t rise to it, he silently willed her.It’s what he wants.
“Ah, the typical Boundary perspective,” Maximus sighed. “Resources must be managed. Distributed according to contribution. What exactly does the Boundary contribute, beyond violence and discontent?”
“Contribution?” Shadera shot back. “You’ve created an artificialscarcity to—”
“I’ve created order from chaos,” Maximus cut her off, his voice hardening. “Before the Serel regime, do you know what New Found Haven was? Warring factions. Overpopulation. We brought stability.”
“You brought subjugation.”
Shadera’s fork clattered against her plate as she set it down too forcefully. Greyson saw his father’s eyes narrow—a predator sensing weakness. Greyson’s fork was in his hand and underneath the table before he realized he was reacting, lodging its tines into her thigh to stop her from provoking him further.
Her body went rigid, her breath catching, but she didn’t cry out. Her eyes flashed to his, murderous behind her mask. She fell silent as she reached down, pulled the fork from her flesh, and used it to take her next bite.
“Now,” his father started again. “Back to this mask. Do you understand the position you’ve put me in? Either I publicly support this flagrant disregard for Heart policy, or I admit I cannot control my own family.”
“We couldneverhave that,” Lira mumbled under her breath, sarcasm thick.
“What did you say to me?” Maximus snarled at her.
“I thought you would like it,” Greyson spoke up quickly, redirecting his father’s rage. “An act of unity with my soon-to-be wife wearing my mark.”
The air in the room had shifted, a subtle but palpable change that even the servants seemed to notice, their movements becoming more cautious at the threshold between rooms.
Maximus’s hand tightened around his wineglass, and for a moment, Greyson thought it might shatter. “An interesting perspective. Though I wonder if that’s how the general public will perceive it.”
“Isn’t that what Lira is for?” Greyson asked carefully. “To ensure the public perceives exactly what you want them to?”
A flash of something—approval, perhaps, or simply acknowledgment—crossed his father’s eyes. “Indeed. Though I question whether this particular narrative can be shaped to my advantage.”
“It can,” Lira said. “I’ve already begun drafting the announcement. The mask will be presented as a symbol of Shadera’s new allegiance, her embrace of Heart traditions modified to honor her life in the Boundary. To show that the rings can be unified.”
Maximus considered this, head tilted slightly. Then he turned back to Shadera. “And what of your Boundary allegiances? What of your Daggermouth loyalties? Can they be so easily discarded for a pretty dress and a comfortable apartment?”
Shadera’s back straightened, her chin lifting. “Nothing about my current situation is comfortable.”
“No?” Maximus’s voice took on the deceptively gentle tone that had always preceded his worst cruelties when Greyson was a child. “Not even my son’s bed?”
