The king’s gaze shifted to me. He studied me, perhaps searching for something beyond the hired bodyguard he’d approved days ago. “You witnessed this, Blain?”
“Every moment, Your Majesty.” I met his eyes, letting him see the truth there even as I shaped it to serve our purposes. “He drew the blade from his coat. Called her tainted and said the court must be purified.”
One of the guards stepped forward, presenting the blade to the king. The oily sheen on its edge caught the torchlight, outlining the poison.
The king stared down at it, his expression flickering before settling back into careful neutrality. “Bloodbane.” His voice came out flat. “Interesting.”
Murmurs rippled through the gathered crowd.
The king’s attention returned to Isi, and he didn’t look at her like a father checking on his daughter’s wellbeing, but like a ruler assessing a variable that had shifted in unexpected ways. “How did you defend yourself?”
Isi met his eyes without flinching. “I used Commander Thorne’s training, Father. I blocked his strike and he fell.”
The king’s jaw tightened, a muscle jumping beneath his skin.
He circled Crestin’s body, examining it from different angles. “And you’re unharmed?”
“His blade didn’t touch me.”
The king crouched beside the corpse, his hand hovering over Crestin's wrist. Even in death, the angle appeared wrong, the bones clearly broken in ways that spoke of strong force. His gaze lifted to me. “This was you?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I grabbed his arm to deflect the blade. I may have applied more force than necessary.” I let a thread of professional dissatisfaction enter my voice. “I should have reached her sooner.“
Silence stretched across the bridge.
The king straightened, looking down at her.
I needed to redirect his attention before that searching gaze found whatever he might be looking for.
“Your Majesty.” I let the admiration of a bodyguard for his charge come through in my voice. “The princess was magnificent. Her training saved her life. You must be proud.”
The compliment landed wrong. I saw it in the way the king’s eyes narrowed, the stiffening of his shoulders. Pride wasn’t what he felt. Suspicion, perhaps. Or fear.
“Yes.” His voice carried an edge I couldn’t name and his gaze scanned the area. “She did…very well.”
Footsteps on gravel drew everyone’s attention to the garden path. Lord Alfred emerged from the shadows.
“Your Majesty.” He bowed to the king before turning that gaze on Isi. “Your Highness. I heard the news. Are you injured, my lady?”
“No,” Isi said. “Thanks to my bodyguard’s quick response and my own training.”
Alfred moved closer to examine the scene. His gaze lingered on the poisoned blade the guard still held, the shattered wrist, and the angle of the man’s fall, before he released a dramatic sigh.
“Bloodbane. Interesting choice.” He looked up at the king. “This suggests coordination, Your Majesty. Not a crime of passion.”
“Your point, Alfred?”
“My point is that someone wants the princess dead. Why else would he attack her with a blade coated with bloodbane?” His eyes flicked to me, then back to the king. “Such horror, and from one ofyour own selected suitors. How could this slip past your guards and castle walls?”
The implication hung in the air. Anyone could be compromised. Anyone could be part of a conspiracy that reached into the highest circles of Caldrith’s court.
The king paled.
Alfred turned to Isi. “Did the lord say anything in particular?”
Isi recounted the attack dully, repeating every word Crestin had spoken.
Alfred’s expression darkened as she spoke, genuine concern flickering across features that usually held only the simpering of a fool.