I can now see the familial resemblance between him and Tristan. They’re both tall, with angular, refined features, but Inote the distinct absence of Tristan’s very obvious kindness in the man before me. The Lord of the Nocturne Court is a viper. Beautiful. Powerful, but he will show me no mercy if it’s not due.
“What’s your name?” he asks, stepping away when I stop fighting him and keep my chin up despite the shivers coursing through my body.
He wasn’t lying when he claimed to have been brought here straight from bed, but neither his bare chest nor the tousled black hair falling over the fine silken robe take anything away from the majesty of his presence.
Here is a man who was born to rule over others, and I shake under the weight of his cutting gaze.
“N—Nate, Your… Highness.”
“Nate. How come someone with a shadow like yours was taken on by someone of Captain Gloombane’s caliber?
I feel the sudden urge to spit at him, because Gloombane was a monster and doesn’t deserve the respect in Lord Kyran’s voice.
“That’swhat you ask him about?” Tristan gets just inches away from the Lord. “His shadow is perfectly fine the way it is. All that matters is that he was saved from the River of Souls, therefore is a worthy Dark Companion. Gloombane couldn’t see the gem right in front of him!”
Lord Kyran squints at his cousin, then… dips his hand into my shadow in a move so surreal I can’t look away. He pulls it out, holding a dark strand barely thicker than hair.
“Butyoucould see it, Tristan? He is promised to you now, Gloombane is dead, and you want me to believe that this puny human managed to kill the Captain of the Nightcloaks?”
I open my mouth, but when Lord Kyran’s gaze settles on me, it’s like facing a blizzard, and air ends up stuck deep down my throat. He shakes his head, focused on Tristan again, his finger wrapping the thread of shadow around it in a casual gesture.
“Why were you intruding? Captain Gloombane sent me a missive about his delay. We are family, cousin, and I owe you a great deal, but do not lie to my face. What happened, really? Was it a crime of passion?”
It’s bright enough for me to spot the flush creeping up Tristan’s face. “It was definitely not cold-blooded. Nate had the Right to Revenge, but given the chance I would have ripped Gloombane apart myself. You don’t understand what he did, Kyran!”
The Lord’s attention is right back on me, and it’s so all-encompassing I can’t blink. “Then why don’t you tell me, Nate? What has he done to deserve death without trial? And how didyoumanage such a feat?”
A strange rustling makes me frown, but then I notice my own fingers trembling in the very same rhythm and stuff them under my armpits. This is why we’re here. I need to give him a testimony to exonerate both Tristan and myself, but that knowledge doesn’t make this moment any easier. I don’t want to think about what happened. Images of the past keep dogging me either way, but to look over my shoulder on purpose feels—
“He… he hurt me. To make my shadow darker.”
Lord Kyran sighs and walks off before dragging a finely carved mahogany chair closer. “You need to be more specific than that.”
Every muscle and joint in my body aches in protest, and while my judge settles down and looks at me, expecting obedience, I can’t bring myself to speak. If I do, every word will inevitably turn into a sob, and I can’t bear to fall apart right now. Tristan has already seen too much of my vulnerability.
I look everywhere but into Lord Kyran’s eyes, and my gaze lands behind him. On a… Christmas tree? It’s tall, dark green, with a pentagram instead of a star on top, black and red baubles, including a few novelty ones like skeleton gingerbread men, skulls, and several purple bats.
I can’t stop myself, I choke out a laugh, because it’s such a surreal thing to witness in this room, I feel like I’m going mad.
Tristan sits on the sofa by my side and puts his arm over me. “We don’t have to do this now. We can get you settled first—”
“We most definitely do,” the Lord cuts in. “Gloombane…wasa noble,” he says with a low sigh, “and as much as I want to not deal with his death,I am the order of this realm. What happened?”
I feel as if my voice is locked behind bars, but Tristan’s presence next to me loosens the cage, and I whisper with my eyes closed. “Beat me. Starved me. Bled me and told me he’ll feed me to sea creatures if my shadow—” A sob gathers in my chest, and I just can’t speak anymore without falling apart. There is no way to put into words the torture I’ve been through.
Even the two words ‘beat me’ in no way express the reality of the days I spent broken and bruised, of the kicks and punches, of the constant fear for my life. I’d never experienced violence before Gloombane. Not really. The way he was able to debase me, change me, twist me into a ‘creature’ begging for mercy, begging for the scraps of food I would have otherwise thrown away. I always thought I’d be courageous in the face of oppression. I’ve been to protests, I stood up for what I believed in. And that monster snapped me like I was the most brittle branch on a tree.
I won’t be able to express this, but I want the interrogation to be over with, so I frantically pull on the fastening of the cloak, then open the furs of my coat enough to present the Lord my bruised and injured body in all its gruesome glory.
There. Does he now understand? Does he see the bones protruding from under my skin?
The scars? The bitemarks left by a vicious sea creature that latched onto me when I was strapped down in the water, utterly defenseless?”
I don’t dare look at Lord Kyran, but Tristan steps in, closing the cloak around me, and pulls me close.
“Enough. You don’t need to do any more of this.”
“Indeed. I am sorry you have been treated this way,” Lord Kyran says in a voice much softer than before. He gets up from the chair and squeezes its back. “You had every right to take your revenge, human, and you shall be safe in my castle as Prince Tristan’s promised.”
