Of Blood And Lies

Chapter 11: The One They Bow To

{Avina}

His gaze sharpened, boring into me with renewed intensity, and I watched as the pieces clicked into place behind those cold red eyes. His pupils dilated fractionally, his breathing changed—so subtle I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been watching him so closely. The weight of that name seemed to settle over him like a shroud. The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. I could see his mind working, calculating, reassessing everything he’d observed about me.

My combat skills. My medical knowledge. My presence in the forest. Jace’s training. All of it suddenly connected in ways I couldn’t understand but he clearly could. When he spoke again, his voice was colder than before. Harder. More dangerous.

“Jace Sinclair.” He repeated the name slowly, as if testing its weight. “An Ashmere who regularly visited his omega family. Who trained his sister in combat techniques reserved for elite guards.” His eyes narrowed, and there was something calculating in his gaze now, something that went far beyond simple suspicion. “That’s highly irregular, Miss Sinclair. The Ashmere live at the royal estate. They serve the crown. They don’t make social calls to check on family personally, they send messages.”

“He did,” I said, my voice trembling. “He cared about us. About me. He wanted to make sure we were okay in person. Messaging is one thing, but seeing someone okay in person is another!”

“How often did these visits occur?”

“I don’t know—every few weeks? Sometimes more, sometimes less. He’d come when he cou—”

“And no one questioned this?” Dutton’s tone was sharp, accusatory. “An elite guard regularly leaving the estate to visit an omega family? To train a girl who shouldn’t have access to that sort of training?”

“I don’t know if anyone questioned it,” I said desperately. “I was just grateful to see him. He was my brother. We were really close. He was trying to protect me.”

“Or he was preparing you for something else entirely.” Dutton circled me slowly, predatory. “But let’s move on, shall we?” he added. “The Ashmere received intelligence about four rogues and a boy hours before you encountered them. We’ve been tracking them through the woods since dawn. And yet somehow, you—a shopkeeper in the capital, trained by a Ashmere brother—happened to be driving through those exact woods at exactly the right moment.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “How did you know where to find him?”

“I didn’t know!” My voice cracked. “I was heading home. I take that road every day. It's the quickest route. I didn’t know they were talking about the prince. They only mentioned a boy. I didn’t—”

“You didn’t know.” He repeated it like a mantra, each iteration stripping away another layer of my credibility. “And yet you were there. At precisely the moment Prince Elijah needed saving. With precisely the knowledge required to identify a poison. With precisely the skills your Ashmere brother taught you.” He turned to face me fully, and the weight of his gaze was suffocating. “Do you understand how this looks, Miss Sinclair?”

“I saved him,” I whispered, my hands trembling. “I saved his life!”

“Or you poisoned him yourself and staged a rescue to gain access to the royal estate.” The words were clinical, detached, as if he were discussing the weather. “It’s a classic infiltration technique. Assassins use it frequently—create a crisis, position yourself as the solution, earn trust. Get close to your target. And what better cover than being the sister of a Ashmere? Who would question your loyalty?”

“No.” The word came out strangled. “No, that’s not—Jace would never—I would never—”

“Where is your brother now? Can he verify your story? Can he explain why he was training you, or what he might have told you about the estate’s security, or whether he had connections to those who would wish the royal family harm.” Dutton’s voice was ice.

"N-no...he...died..." I admitted, hands curling into fists at my sides.

“Again, rather convenient," Dutton continued. "You possess medical knowledge you shouldn’t have. Combat training that’s highly suspicious given your station. A supposedly dead Ashmere brother whose visits were irregular at best. You were in the exact location at the exact time to intercept the prince. And now you’re here, inside the royal estate, covered in his blood, with every guard as a witness to your… heroism.” His voice dripped with skepticism. “Convenient, wouldn’t you say?”

The room tilted. My vision blurred at the edges. Every answer I’d given—every desperate attempt to explain—had only made me sound more guilty. I could see it in his eyes, in the set of his jaw. He’d already decided.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I said, but my voice was barely audible, shaking with the weight of my own fear. “I swear, I didn’t—”

But he didn’t stop. He moved closer, his presence overwhelming, suffocating, until I was trapped between him and the table, with nowhere to run.

“I will not allow a potential assassin to walk free in this estate.” He lifted one hand—a subtle gesture, barely a twitch of his fingers.

The silence that followed was a predatory hum, a sharpening of senses. Like shadows detaching themselves from the walls, guards began to materialize through the door, their heavy boots muffled on the polished floor, forming a tightening circle around me. The fading embers of adrenaline flared, a primal roar deep within my gut, recognizing the scent of danger that now permeated the very air, thick and suffocating.

“No,” I breathed, my eyes darting from one guard to the next, watching the circle close. “No, you can’t—”

“For the attempted assassination of Prince Elijah,” Dutton said, his voice cold and final, “you are hereby placed under arrest.”

A guard seized my bicep roughly, and I realized it was the man from the shop. His grip was like iron. The instinct to fight surged through me— tear free, run—but I forced it down. Fighting would only prove his point. Make me look more guilty than my words already did.

“I didn’t even know he was the prince,” I said, my voice shaking with fury. “I saved his life! I fought those rogues to protect him! If you thought I was a threat, then why right that I wasn't on my arm?!”

“Release her.”

The command came from the doorway. It didn’t echo. It simply existed, absolute and inescapable, cutting through every other sound in the room. The guard's hand fell away from me instantly. Dutton’s head snapped toward the door, and then—with a speed that seemed impossible for a man his size—he dropped to one knee, fist to chest, head bowed.

Every other person in the room followed. The healers showing their necks. A wave of submission, instant and total. I stood frozen, the only one still upright.