The hand was calloused, smelling of stale tobacco and the metallic bite of a blade. I froze, my back pressed against the door I had just slammed shut against Thade, the wood still vibrating with the echoes of my stubbornness. The cold air from the window, the one I had left unlatched, brushed against my ankles like a ghost, a silent warning I had been too angry to heed. ‘Don’t scream, you Majesty,’ the voice rasped, hot and wet against the shell of my ear, knocking my glasses out of place. ‘We just need to bring the King under control, before the country goes to the wolves.’ Panic flared, sharp and blinding, hot enough to singe the edges of my vision. It was a suffocating weight, but it was quickly swallowed by a flash of magic that pulsed in my vision as a thick, muddy brown aura. He was trying to spell me. A binding tether, perhaps, or a silencing weave? My mind raced through the options, my heart drumming a frantic rhythm against my ribs, but I forced my breathing to shallow, co
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