Page 140 of The Chains You Defy

What in Noelk’s name, Naya? This wasn’t the time for indecent thoughts.

Sadly, my cheeks didn’t get that particular memo.

When I’d finally pushed my stupid obsession with his godscursed canines into the recesses of my mind, I met his glare with one of my own. “I’m not an item you can store somewhere, princeling.”

“Believe me, I’m painfully aware of that.”

“Come on, Dion. The training building you leveled was empty, and Naya is unharmed, so all good,” Thain chimed in, grinning wide, which, not surprisingly, riled Dion up even more.

“Shut up, Thain, or I’ll level your bedroom. With you trapped inside.”

Sighing under my breath, I silently collected facts to excuse Dion’s behavior. He’d left me in his quarters, believing I would be safe, and when he’d returned, I’d been gone. After the events of last night, I couldn’t even be angry at his reaction.

Of course, nothing justified losing his shit so much that he’d destroyed a building and threatened one of his allies. Yet I did the wise thing and neither commented on his over-the-top outburst nor, gods beware, defended Thain.

So, as a peace offering, I lowered myself back on the couch I’d picked earlier, slid sideways, and motioned to the empty spot next to me. Before I could blink, Dion had claimed the open space, wrapped a cover-up aroundmy shoulders—where he’d gotten the garment from so fast was a mystery—and hauled me onto his lap.

Had I really expected something else? Glowering at him for a hot minute, observing his unapologetic expression, I sighed and relaxed as his arms enveloped my waist.

Today, resisting him wasn’t a battle worth fighting.

“Ouch, Dion, stop crushing me.”

When Nayana winced, I willed my arms to relax, but doing so wasn’t an easy feat.

My female had just finished recalling her meeting with my grandfather, and if the thought of them being alone together wasn’t bad enough, the fact he’d threatened her with death or decay was a devastating blow to me.

Worse, she’d attempted to omit Galrach’s warnings, and only a massive amount of prodding had caused her to admit to the danger she was in.

Possibly, no one realized how much this wrecked me. Yesterday, I’d promised in front of the gods to protect her at all costs, but the next day, I’d already failed.

“I don’t support whenever you go all dark, but still, I have to ask. Why don’t you dispose of Galrach? Is he that much stronger than you, so you don’t dare try?”

“Him? Stronger than me? As if,” I scoffed, and the usual self-loathing at my helplessness flared up and populated my veins with a swarm of angry hornets.

“Maybe it is time you come clean, Dion. We are all aware that there must be a reason, something big. So what is holding you back?” Antas’ stare pierced right through my defenses, and my jaw locked.

“Princeling, control your arm strength, or let me down.” Nayana glowered at me, and I relaxed my hold on her once more. I hadn’t even realized that I was squashing her again.

Fuck, how I despised being at court. How I loathed the king. And how I detested the idea of explaining what I’d never spoken of before. “It’s impossible for me to kill Galrach. Believe me, I tried everything.”

Except maybe Antas—who couldn’t be as ignorant as he always pledged—no one had ever found out what had occurred during the many, many months following the winter solstice when Galrach had assassinated my mother and had me… had my father executed, who’d been buried without a ceremony.

As young as I’d been, he must have sensed the abundance of power I was going to wield one day, long before my magic had surfaced. He’d known, and to this day, I didn’t have a clue how. Sometimes, when my thoughts were exceptionally dark, I considered that he’d had my parents murdered so he could control me better, without any outside influences getting in his way.

“Why not?” Nayana’s voice was soft. My tiny woman must really hate Galrach if she wasn’t even trying to advocate against violence.

“After my mother’s funeral on the same day she’d died and my father’s execution the next morning, he took meto a ritualistic chamber underground and chained me to the wall.”

“The one—”

“Yes, Naya, the one we’d been to. Even though the palace wasn’t built yet, our family’s mansion had been in its place. Over the next months—no, winters—Galrach worked on weakening me. A lot of my recollections are still blurry to this day. However, he infected me with some sort of sickness, bound my newfound magic with internal and external hematite, plus, of course, physical torture, and when he was finally satisfied, he brought a bunch of light Wielder, those who could influence the mind. I was more dead than alive, overgrown by the sentient moss my grandfather loves so dearly, extremely sick and weak, and after several moons, his squad of lackeys had succeeded—then died because he didn’t want any witnesses. But the result of these winters still remains strong. Galrach ensured that I could never attack him. Whenever I try just as much as to punch him, I’m in such blazing agony that I can’t move anymore and lose my consciousness. This happened quite a few times and always ended in severe punishment.”

Shrugging with feigned disinterest, I concluded my story. Shocked silence hung in the air, and my comrades’ expressions ranged from abhorrence to pity, which shattered my calm demeanor. Heat burned in my chest as I bared my teeth at Ireas as a warning to wipe the unwanted sorrow off his face.

Fig’s features contorted into a frown. “That explains a lot. But what transpired during the High King’s centennial regency anniversary?”

“Liolog.”