Chapter2
721 Words
Lyra reacted instantly.
Her dagger flashed toward his throat.
The king moved faster.
His hand caught her wrist again and twisted sharply.
Pain shot through her arm.
The dagger clattered to the floor.
Lyra lunged forward, trying to strike him with her free hand.
Kael caught that wrist too.
For a moment they stood locked together beside the bed.
His grip was unbreakable.
“You’re persistent,” he said.
Lyra kicked toward his knee.
He stepped aside effortlessly.
Her balance shifted—
And suddenly her back hit the wall.
Kael pinned both her wrists above her head with one hand.
The difference in strength between them was humiliating.
“You’re done,” he said quietly.
She glared at him.
“Kill me then.”
The king studied her face for several long seconds.
His expression remained unreadable.
“You’re not afraid of death,” he observed.
“Should I be?”
“Most people are.”
Lyra forced herself to meet his gaze.
“You destroyed my homeland.”
For the first time something flickered in his eyes.
Not guilt.
Not anger.
Something else.
“You believe that,” he said softly.
Before she could respond, the chamber door burst open.
Guards rushed inside.
Steel swords gleamed in the candlelight.
“Your Majesty!”
Kael didn’t look at them.
“Leave.”
The guards hesitated.
“But—”
“Leave.”
His voice sharpened slightly.
The guards exchanged uneasy glances.
Then they obeyed.
The soldiers withdrew from the chamber, though Lyra noticed they remained just outside the door.
Listening.
Waiting.
Ready.
The heavy doors closed again.
Lyra stared at him.
“You trust them that little?”
“I trust them exactly as much as necessary.”
He released her wrists.
She rubbed them instinctively.
“Why am I still alive?” she asked.
Kael bent down and picked up her fallen dagger.
The blade gleamed in the candlelight.
“A good weapon,” he said.
Then he handed it back to her.
Lyra didn’t move.
“Take it.”
“You expect me not to stab you again?”
“If you could,” he said calmly, “you already would have.”
Her jaw tightened.
He was right.
He studied her for another moment.
“Tell me something.”
“What?”
“Why do the rebels want me dead?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“You know why.”
“Do I?”
“You slaughtered thousands of people when you conquered Valeria.”
The name of her homeland hung between them.
Kael’s gaze remained steady.
“War is rarely so simple.”
“Spare me the speech,” she snapped.
His expression hardened slightly.
“I have survived twelve assassination attempts in the last three years.”
Lyra blinked.
“Twelve?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re still alive.”
“That tends to happen.”
He walked past her toward the window.
“Tell me,” he said quietly, “did the rebels ever explain why they keep sending assassins?”
Lyra hesitated.
“No.”
Kael looked back at her.
His expression was suddenly very tired.
“That’s unfortunate.”
She frowned.
“What is?”
“That you’re fighting a war you don’t understand.”
The words unsettled her.
“Stop playing games.”
“Games?”
He turned fully toward her.
“If I wanted to play games,” he said softly, “you would already be dead.”
Silence filled the room.
Lyra’s heart pounded.
Something about this conversation felt wrong.
This was not the tyrant she expected.
“Why didn’t you kill me?” she asked again.
Kael studied her for a moment.
Then he said quietly:
“Because you’re useful.”
Her stomach dropped.
“Useful?”
“Yes.”
Lyra snorted.
“I came here to assassinate you.”
“Exactly.”
“That doesn’t make me useful.”
“It makes you capable.”
Lyra shook her head.
“You have an entire army.”
“Yes.”
“Hundreds of soldiers…Trained knights.”
“Yes.”
“So why would you need an assassin?”
Kael’s gaze darkened slightly.
“Because the enemies threatening this kingdom aren’t the kind you defeat with armies.”
His gaze sharpened.
“And I have a proposal for you.”
- Writer
