Celestia's POV
I spin around.
Thorne fills the doorway, and for the first time since our wedding, he's not wearing his hood. His beautiful, terrible face is twisted with fury.
I asked you a question. His voice could freeze blood. What are you doing in my study?
My fear vanishes, burned away by pure rage.
What am I doing? I grab a handful of documents and throw them at him. Papers scatter like deadly snow. What are YOU doing? You have all this evidence! Proof of everything my father did! Proof that I'm innocent!
He doesn't flinch as the papers hit him. Put those down.
No! I grab more, waving them in his face. You told me you knew I was innocent. You said you were protecting me. But you're just keeping me locked away like a prisoner while you sit on this—this PROOF that could clear my name!
You don't understand
Then explain it to me! I'm screaming now, months of fear and rage and betrayal pouring out. Explain why you won't help me! Explain why I have to rot in that room while my father walks free! Explain why you're just as bad as
Because you're alive! His roar shakes the windows. He's across the room in two strides, grabbing my shoulders. You're ALIVE, Celestia! Do you understand what that means?
I understand that I'm a prisoner!
You're a breathing prisoner! His fingers dig into my arms. Not hurting, but desperate. If I'd shown this evidence at your trial, your father would have had you killed that same night. Poison in your cell. A guard with a knife. An accident no one could prove.
You don't know that
I DO know that! He releases me, running his hands through his dark hair. I've seen it happen. Three times. Three people who threatened to expose Ashford's conspiracy. All dead within days. Made to look like suicide or accidents or natural causes.
His words hit me like physical blows.
Your father has spies everywhere, Thorne continues, his voice rough. In the palace. In the guard. In the courts. The only reason you're alive is because everyone thinks you're neutralized. Married to the monster. Locked away. No longer a threat.
I sink into the chair behind me, my legs giving out.
If I'd helped you openly, he says quietly, if I'd stood up at that trial and declared your innocence, you'd be dead. And your father would still be free, still plotting, still destroying lives.
So what? My voice breaks. I just stay locked in that room forever? While he walks around like he didn't destroy me?
No. Thorne crouches in front of me, his dark eyes intense. You stay locked in that room until I have enough evidence to bring down the entire conspiracy. Not just your father. All of them. Gravenmoor. The other nobles. Everyone involved.
How long?
Another month. Maybe two.
And then?
Then I destroy them all. His smile is cold and deadly. And you get your life back.
I want to believe him. God, I want to believe him so badly.
But I've been betrayed by everyone I ever trusted.
Why should I trust you? I whisper. Why should I believe you're any different than
CRASH!
Glass explodes inward as an arrow punches through the window.
It misses my head by inches and buries itself in the chair behind me.
Thorne moves like lightning, yanking me to the floor. Stay down!
Another arrow. Then another. Shattering windows. Thudding into furniture.
What's happening? I gasp.
Thorne's already moving, pulling a sword from somewhere I didn't see. We're under attack.
The door bursts open.
Three men flood into the study, masked and armed with blades. Not guards. Not soldiers.
Assassins.
Stay behind me! Thorne roars, pushing me toward the wall.
The first assassin lunges at him. Steel clashes against steel with a sound like thunder.
More masked figures pour through the door. Five. Six. Seven.
Too many.
Thorne fights like something inhuman. His sword flashes in the lamplight, blocking, striking, killing. Blood sprays across the expensive carpet.
But there are too many of them.
One breaks past Thorne's defense, heading straight for me.
Pure instinct takes over. I grab the letter opener from the desk—the only weapon in reach—and when the assassin gets close, I drive it into his throat.
Blood gushes hot over my hands. The man makes a horrible gurgling sound and crumples.
I killed him. I just killed a man.
Celestia! Thorne's voice cuts through my shock. Behind you!
I spin.
Another assassin, blade raised.
I dive to the side. The sword slams into the floor where I was standing.
Thorne is there in a heartbeat, his blade cutting through the attacker's neck. The body falls.
For a moment, there's silence.
Seven bodies on the floor. Blood everywhere. The study destroyed.
I'm shaking so hard I can barely stand. My hands are covered in blood. My ears ring from the sounds of fighting.
Thorne grabs my shoulders, checking me for injuries. Are you hurt?
I can't speak. Can't think. Can only stare at the dead men.
Celestia! He shakes me gently. Are you hurt?
No, I manage. No, I'm... I'm fine.
He releases a breath that sounds like a prayer. Then he's moving, crouching beside the bodies, searching them.
I watch numbly as he pulls back one assassin's mask.
The man has a tattoo on his neck. A symbol I recognize.
My father's house crest.
He sent them, I whisper. My father sent assassins to kill me.
Thorne's face is grim. Not just you. Both of us. He stands, and when he looks at me, something has changed in his eyes. Someone in this fortress told them you were out of your room. Someone reported where you were.
The words send ice through my veins. You have a spy.
Yes. He moves to the window, looking out at the dark courtyard. Which means nowhere in Shadow Keep is safe anymore.
I stand on shaking legs, my blood-soaked hands clenched into fists. Three days ago, I was a noblewoman who'd never hurt anyone.
Now I'm a killer. A survivor. A woman whose own father wants her dead.
What do we do now? I ask.
Thorne turns back to me, and his expression is harder than I've ever seen it.
Now? He sheathes his sword. Now you stop being a prisoner and start being useful.
What does that mean?
His dark eyes bore into mine. It means if you're a target anyway, you might as well help me destroy the people trying to kill you. Starting with your father.
My heart pounds. You want me to fight back?
I want you to survive. He steps closer. And the only way to do that is to end this conspiracy before they end us. All of it. Your father. Gravenmoor. Everyone.
For the first time in three days, I feel something other than helplessness.
I feel rage. Purpose. Power.
Then teach me, I say, my voice steady despite the blood on my hands. Teach me how to fight. How to survive. How to destroy them.
Thorne studies my face for a long moment.
Then he extends his hand.
Partners?
I take it without hesitation. Partners.
His grip is strong and warm and certain.
Tomorrow, your real training begins, he says. It won't be easy. You'll hate me before it's done.
I look at the bodies on the floor. At the evidence scattered everywhere. At the blood on my hands.
I already hate you, I lie.
His smile is sharp and dangerous. Good. Anger keeps you alive.
He releases my hand and moves toward the door to call for guards.
I stand there, surrounded by death and documents, and feel something shift inside me.
I'm done being a victim.
Done being the fragile noblewoman they destroyed.
If they want me dead, they're going to have to work for it.
Because I just learned something important tonight:
I can kill.
And I will.