Page 17 of Fearless

Kitt’s words spark an eruption that ripples down the table. Men and women of all ages push to their feet, shouting incoherently as the world they once ruled now shifts beneath them. Kitt raises a hand in a feeble attempt to regain control. But the chaos continues its destructive course, forcing me to dodge a flying elbow to my right.

“If you wish to lose your tongue, by all means, continue speaking over your king.”

Kai’s casual threat carries across the room, clamping shut even the most eager of mouths. With one final glance at the court, the Enforcer gestures casually to his king, urging him to continue.

Kitt’s green gaze brims with gratitude. He looks at Kai like he oncehad—like a brother. But the moment passes too quickly. Without warning, he’s suddenly morphed back into a king addressing his court. “I know this is an adjustment. I was shocked to learn of my father’s deceit, though it benefitted us all. He was a harsh man who would happily kill for power—as do most kings. And after speaking with Calum, I realized that the Resistance was simply a voice for those harmless Ordinaries.” He lets the words sink in before uttering more. “Banishing them, as my father once had, strengthened our city once. Allowing them back in now will do the same.”

My ears ring slightly as I release a shaky breath. I never thought this day would come, never imagined living in a world where I no longer had to hide what I wasn’t. Kitt may only be allowing Ordinaries back in Ilya to appease the surrounding kingdoms, but it is a start.

A man shoves to his feet across the table, and my eyes fall to the pin of Ilya’s crest that names him the court’s spokesperson. His head of mint hair is next to draw my attention, followed by the words he utters evenly. “Even without a disease, they’ll dwindle our power if we reproduce with them.”

Them.

I hadn’t realized my hands were curled into fists beneath the table until my nails threaten to draw blood. “Over time, maybe,” Kitt was saying. “For all we know, there may be benefits to mixing the blood of Elites and Ordinaries. But you will find that Ordinaries willing to procreate with an Elite are few and far between.”

Questions begin flying around the room, echoing off the many marble pillars framing it. “And what about her?” My head snaps toward the shouted accusation to find a bearded man pointing his thick finger at my face. “What about your heirs? Will you taint your royal line with the blood of an Ordinary?”

My stomach twists, lungs suddenly too tight beneath theconstricting fabric of my dress. Kai jerks to his feet and nearly topples the chair behind him. I stand too, readying myself to step between my Enforcer and the man testing his patience.

“Enough.” It’s the king who says this, defusing Kai with the stern word. “I will not have my judgment questioned, nor my future lineage. If the heir to my throne possesses less power, then so be it. That is a small price to pay for a thriving kingdom.”

His words should startle me more, but I’ve always known of Kitt’s love for Ilya. That alone is why he’s willing to sacrifice power. Not for the Ordinaries. Not for me.

A woman stands on heeled shoes, her gown pristine. She is the perfect picture of Offensive Elite privilege. “None of this changes the fact that she is a criminal. A king killer!”

I can’t help my wince at the uproar that follows her words. Hands rise in objection, their voices doing the same. My gaze slowly climbs to Kitt, awaiting what words he strings together. It’s my life—or rather, my imminent death—that he now holds in the palm of his hand.

A terrifying realization courses through me, heating my cheeks with the blood Kitt likely wishes to spill. He must ache to grant these shouted requests for justice. After everything I did, he was going to kill me. That is, until I became useful to him.

Kitt’s voice is even, eyes expertly avoiding mine. “Paedyn was defending herself.” It’s a simple, defiant explanation that no one will dare oppose. “My father suffered a deep blow to the head during the chaos before stumbling into Paedyn. Due to his injuries, he was confused and not at all in his right mind. In his hazy state, he came after her, forcing Miss Gray to defend herself against him. Now, I will hear nothing more on the matter.”

The scar above my heart sears, as if to remind me what truly happened that day.

“… I will leave my mark upon your heart, lest you forget who’s broken it.”

My eyes fall to the fisted hands in my lap. They shake slightly, rippling the blue fabric beneath. I can feel the imprint of the sword’s hilt, remember the exact amount of pressure used to drive the blade through Edric Azer’s chest. Feel the flick of a dagger, the release of a bowstring, the plunging of a sword.

Every death I’ve doled lives in the lines of these hands. And I fear who will find themselves beneath their next calloused touch.

“Fliers will be distributed throughout the city.” I blink back to the present, Kitt’s words filling my muffled ears. “They will announce our engagement to Ilya, but most importantly, to the surrounding cities. I will send messengers to Dor and Tando while searching for a way to deliver the news to Izram. On these scrolls will be what we spoke of today, every reasoning and explanation. In two days’ time, we will host a parade in celebration. And any remaining Ordinaries within the kingdom, or anyone outside it, for that matter, are to be welcomed.”

Mouths open in unison around the table, but the king is speaking before sound is able to escape them. “That will be all. Thank you for your time.”

I can practically hear jaws snapping shut at the dismissal. Kitt then stands, and after a moment of hesitation, extends a hand to me. My eyes slide to Kai, even as I slowly reach for his brother. But he doesn’t look at me. No, the Enforcer’s gaze is on the palm I’ve placed atop the king’s, growing darker with every second our skin grazes.

And as we stride from the room, hand in hand, I will Kai to meet my eyes and read the message within them.

Pretend.

CHAPTER 7Paedyn

She sleeps soundly to my right, just as she always does.

Shoulder to shoulder, fabric to face, gaze to stars.

Rough beneath my back lies the rug, piled with scraps of cloth that tickle my skin. The night is a comfort, combing cool fingers through my hair, tucking me in beneath a blanket of stars. They glint above while winking lazily down on the familiar pair of us.

This is home, however unconventional. However broken its inhabitants.

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