Page 19 of Sharpest Court

I launched toward the second exit, heart thundering. I reached the door just as it flew open, forcing me into a skidding halt.

My gut plunged. Because a mountainous man stood at the threshold, ash-brown hair falling to his powerful shoulders, a frown etched into his warm olive skin. A black throat tattoo shifted with his heavy breathing, and I realized this was the man I’d seen with Valeria at the compound. The man I’d feared was coming to question us.

And now he was advancing toward me.

My specter flared against him—a sloppy blow. But as he stumbled, I whirled around, heading for the double doors instead—

And crashed into another hard body.

The impact would’ve knocked me over if two strong hands hadn’t immediately gripped my waist, keeping me upright. Holding me closely against an expanse of matte black armor.

I was still catching my breath when that body tensed, those hands contracting around my waist. The fingers curled in, slightly ruching my blouse as though unwilling to let me go.

I blinked up into a chiseled face; full, parted lips; wide golden eyes. Then the rest of the world muffled, my own heartbeat drumming loudly in my ears.

Because staring down at me in soft wonder and disbelief was Keil.

6

My tremors had returned.

I felt dazed, incredulous, my last starlit memory of him blending with the present, turning his grip into something intimate and real. Real and yet impossible, because Keil was somehow here, unconfined and unharmed. Holding his breath as though I were the mirage and one wrong stir of air might snuff me out like a candle flame.

Then he exhaled, and the sound filled me with such powerful, undeniable relief that my body went loose. But his grip kept me from buckling, even as he angled me back, lifting one trembling palm to brush the hair from my forehead, briefly cup my cheek, slide down my nape—his eyes flicking over me all the while. Each touch was gentle yet urgent. Assessing and savoring all at once.

His breath hitched when he saw my bruised neck, and his other hand climbed higher, as if to pull me all the way against him.

I was leaning instinctively into his touch when Rheya’s voice slithered from behind.

“You ought to mind your pace, Your Highness. You almost ran the poor girl down.”

As if he’d heard the crack of a whip, Keil went rigid. He ran his gaze over my face again, as though taking a last gulp of air before plunging underwater. Then he lightly squeezed my waist and murmured one word that set my skin prickling with dread: “Please.”

I was blinking in confusion, still reeling from his presence, when he gently shifted me out of his path and positioned himself before his empress.

Positioning himself, once again, between me and the enemy.

More footsteps followed from behind, and I turned to see two figures striding past the clambering guards: Valeria and a tall, lean man I recognized as Dashiel, one of the more amiable members of Keil’s group of Wielders. He appeared unchanged since I’d last seen him, with his black hair cropped short and matte leather armor scaling over his chest.

With new understanding, I whipped my head toward the larger man with the throat tattoo. As his hazel eyes bore down on me—eyes I’d only ever seen over a mask—I knew that this was Goren, a far less amiable member of Keil’s group. And one whose bland hostility toward me had seemingly evolved into outright loathing.

The group closed ranks around me, then bowed, leaving me upright in their midst.

“Your Majesty.” Keil’s deep voice was achingly familiar, dripping with easy charm as they all straightened. “It’s unlike you to withhold an invitation to your gatherings. Though I’ll admit”—he glanced around, eyebrows raised—“it’s a rather poor turnout.”

I held myself rigid, breathing heavily, as Rheya looked over the group with a withering intensity. Then she rolled her eyes, appearing suddenly like an exasperated schoolteacher as she said, “Leave us.”

The imperial guards clanked away.

“Forgive us, Your Majesty,” Valeria said from my right side. “We have come to invoke the Law of Sanctuary.”

“The Law of Sanctuary can only be invoked from within your estate,” Arun said.

“Your guards made it impossible for Lady Alissa to reach our estate,” she replied, “when they abducted her from the compound.”

“The imperial guards do not abduct people.”

“You’re suggesting Lady Alissa came here of her own free will?” Keil’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Really, Arun, you’re not quite charming enough to have managed that.”