I took pleasure in Gesalac’s few ragged breaths before he continued to speak. “She fucks you and you make her a goddess, such is her power.”

Adrian drew his blade.

“You cannot even see, so blinded by her magic.”

I found it strange and unnerving that Gesalac was accusing me of witchcraft, especially when I had no magic.

Adrian reared back and swung even as Gesalac continued to speak.

“She will be your death—”

He was silenced with a clean blow to the neck, his head dropping to the ground with a wet thud. His body followed. In the aftermath, there were no cheers like yesterday when the vassals were impaled, only a melancholy quiet.

There had been enough death today.

“Impale his body,” Adrian ordered, and he seized Gesalac’s head by the hair, tossing it into the blazing fire at the center of the courtyard before approaching me. “Have I pleased you?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Where is Julian?”

His eyes grew dark at my question, and I knew he felt shame at not having found the second noblesse.

“Dracul is tracking him.”

I had questions, namely, what happened if he managed to seek refuge in Vela with King Gheroghe?

But Adrian already knew what I wanted to know and leaned forward, whispering, “Patience, my sweet.”

As he placed a kiss to my forehead, he pressed his hand into my back, a move that made me cry out in pain. He drew back and looked at his hand—it was covered in blood. His eyes met mine, and all he could say was my name.

“Isolde.”

“Adrian,” I whispered. “Let’s go upstairs.”

***

I entered the castle ahead of Adrian, his eyes pinned to my back, and I could feel the blood soaking through the fabric of my dress. When we made it to his room, he reached around me, throwing open the door and ushering me inside. I crossed the room to stand near the bed, putting distance between us.

“You were injured,” he said, his voice trembling, but I could not tell if it was from fear or anger—perhaps both.

“Yes,” I said, quiet.

“Let me see.”

I stared at him, knowing he was not prepared for this, and yet I obeyed, sliding the dress down my body. It puddled at my feet, and I stood naked before him. The wound on my arm throbbed painfully. Ana’s medicine had long worn off.

Adrian’s eyes narrowed on it quickly, and then I turned so he could see my back.

“I told you to rest,” he said, his voice rising.

“And how noble that would have been—sleeping while our people die?”

“Who did you save?” he demanded, bitter. “No one! But I almost lost a wife.”

Hot shame washed over me, and I knelt to retrieve my dress, clutching it to my chest.

“Are you angrier that I was hurt or that if I had died, you would have too?”