The canvas fell still behind them.
Silence pressed in—strange after the constant rustle of attendants, heavy with the weight of what waited beyond these walls.
Viktor’s boots thudded softly over the stony earth as he crossed to her. She stood in sapphire silk veiled by an indigo cloak, silver embroidery glinting like starlight along its neckline and cuffs. Her hair was drawn into a half-crown braid, polished and regal, catching the lamplight like a coronet of gold.
His hands settled on her shoulders, mantle brushing silk. He checked the clasp in the mirror, fingers steady, soldier-sure.
“If you’re ready,” he said, “I’ll call an escort.”
She folded her hands over his.
“I want you.”
His jaw flexed, a muscle ticking.
“You have me. But I can’t stand between you and a blade in that castle.”
He drew a slow breath, reached beneath his mantle, and pulled a narrow sheath wrapped in worn black leather.
He turned her to face him, easing the knife free. The blade was a handspan, sea-worn steel, the hilt carved bone worn smooth.
“It was my grandfather’s,” he said, pushing the hilt toward her. “Crossed more gates than I ever will. It’s the only thing I keep. Until now.”
“Tory—”
His eyes locked on hers—fierce, protective.
“Look at me, Amerei. If someone reaches for you, go high to the throat. If not, low to the thigh. Drive it until you feel bone.” His voice wavered, then hardened again. “And if you can’t—run. Scream. Bite.I will hear you.”
He set the weight in her palm, closing her fingers around the worn leather.
Her eyes burned.
“They’ll see it. His guards—”
“Not if I fasten it.”
He slid the blade flat inside her cloak, tucking it into the gusset at her ribs. Invisible. A soldier’s secret.
He lifted her hand, pressed it to her belly.
“Listen to me. You owe the realm nothing before your life. If a heartbeat starts beneath your hand, you guard it. If not—you guard my queen the same.”
“Tory—”
“Swear it.”
She nodded, tears brimming.
“Out loud.”
His voice cut like command.
She surged into him, arms locking around his neck, pulling him down.
“I swear it, Tory,” she breathed, fierce and shaking.
A horn sounded—one clear note from the gate.
