He released her hand, nodding at Dedryn. “I will need to speak to my advisors about what to do with you. Stay within the palace, and I will send for you in a few days.”

She swallowed, clasping her hands together to hide their shaking. Yet again, she was being restricted indoors and told not to be seen. Her chest tightened painfully. Nothing was different.

“Until then, I’ll have you moved to more permanent quarters tonight with clothing appropriately fitted for your claimed station.”

Setting a hand on Lady Death Glare’s lower back, he steered her with him toward a back entrance Vera hadn’t noticed until then. Dedryn turned toward her, bowing at the waist, before nodding at his husband and son and following the king’s group out.

Chapter 16

EITHAN

He stared, unseeing, down the hall, slipping a hand in his trouser pocket and grasping the small object hidden there, the smooth spin of it along his fingertips immediately calming him. He’d been reaching for it more and more lately, the impulse to use it cutting into him deeper with each passing day.

The edge of the lid dug into the pad of his thumb as he tightened his grip. The thought of using it tonight was so deliciously tempting.

He cracked his neck, trying to ignore the weighted stare boring into the back of his head. Coleman said nothing, but his unease grew with each step they took down the hall, his good-intentioned anxiety practically bouncing off the walls around them.

His worry was oddly soothing, if not a tad annoying at times. Especially considering what Eithan’s first-in-command might gain if Sulian’s punishments ever went too far. His cheek twitched, and he rolled his neck, sparing a quick glance behind him. Thankfully for them both, tonight was just dinner.

The only pain Eithan was set to endure was a long, drawn-out evening of thinly veiled insults and alcohol-inspired lectures. There was nothing Sulian loved more—apart from watching Eithan’s lessons—than informing him of just how disappointing he was.

Eithan’s wounds had healed well over the last few days, with only a few that still itched and pulled whenever he twisted just right. He inhaled, testing his ribs. They’d received most of the abuse, but even they were on the mend, the coloring of his torso making them look worse than they were. Not that Coleman believed him.

Eithan, on the other hand, was glad he still ached. There was no greater motivation than the constant reminder of humiliation and pain. As they approached their destination, he spun the small vial once more in his fist, daring himself to use it.

“Your Highness?”

His fingers spasmed, but he forced himself to turn, releasing his grip and yanking his empty hand from his pocket. He wasn’t sure how long he’d stood there staring at the door, but the worried look on Coleman’s face told him enough.

He smoothed his palms down the front of his midnight blue tunic and considered the man. “How many more years would you say my father has left, Coleman?”