Page 94 of The Chains You Defy

Only when Nayana winced did I notice I was crushing her. Willing my tense arms and magic to relax an inch, I sighed. “Yes. Still—”

“Trust me. I won’t give us away. Whatever he’ll throw at us, I can endure. You know that.”

“Of course, Nayana. I’m well aware of how fucking strong you are. But that’s not the point.”

“Then what is?”

My muscles trembled, and I was shaking harder. The pit of despair in my middle expanded, but not because of fear for my imminent future. No, the idea of endangering her—and more—drove me insane.

Nayana painted circles on my back, gentle and calming.

“Also, I don’t want you to see me as weak as he’ll make me.”

“So, your refusal is an ego thing, hm?”

My chest rumbled with displeasure as she not only found the gaping wound but also dug her finger into the pain. Dealing with my grandfather’s procedures was physically unpleasant, but the real torture was what his methods did to my mind. “Stop it.”

“No, Dion. Pay attention.” She leaned back in my arms and faced my gaze. “As much as such an absurd concept alienates your bloated pride, no one can always be strong. Not even you,oh mighty Dark God. Your magic has a vice in alcohol; you as a whole have one too, in your grandfather. Although I still don’t understand why you don’t fight back.”

“There’s a good reason. But that’s also a story for another day.”

“I’ll allow you to get away with that excuse only so often, princeling.” Nayana huffed, her nose wrinkling. “We’re a team. You confirmed so yourself in Amalach. Which means we’ll support each other, simple as that. You’ve been with me during some of my weakest moments—now, for the gods’ sakes, give me the same courtesy. Grant me the chance to take care of you for once. If we stick together, your psychotic grandfather can’t break either you or me.”

Her dainty fingers pushed my chin up, closing my mouth that had fallen open at her little speech. Her resolve was infectious and spread through my limbs as she spoke, and a giant wave of fondness threatened to crash down on me.

“Come, let’s not add impatience to his mood. Whatever is waiting for us, we’ll face it. Together.”

What else could I have done but nod?

Yes, I hated the idea of her perceiving me at my most helpless, but she was right. Not long ago, I’d decided I would do anything for her, and this included letting her in.

I’d find the strength to grant her permission to witness my weakness. But should Galrach threaten only one hair on her head, the act we were putting up would be over. “He better not touch you.”

“Even if. Promise me to control yourself. You’ve stated yourself that if the High King ever finds out that we’re friends, we’ll be in for a whole lot of trouble.”

Dipping my chin, I took a deep breath and swallowed around the lump stuck in my throat. This woman—this tiny female—had no idea how special she was. How much she mattered to me. And the relief that I wasn’t denying the truth anymore—and had admitted to myself there would be no me without her ever again—seeped through the cracks of my tainted soul.

And if protecting her meant I’d have to deal with her beholding all the broken parts of me, I would do so. I’d manage. I would be strong, even in my weakest moments.

Dion was pacing as I disappeared behind a paravent to change into one of my Ivreian travel dresses. Each step he took was a declaration of war in its own right, his powerful frame taut as a bowstring. Every time he changed directions, his hair billowed around him like an angry storm cloud.

I had to function as his tether so he wouldn’t spiral out of control. For unknown reasons, my presence grounded him, at least so far as to contain all the bottled-up anger and frustration, even if, like yesterday, only by a thread.

Why he granted me so much influence over him was the biggest mystery of all. Except for his grandfather, nothing could sway him even an inch, and why he allowed Galrach such power was another secret I had yet to unveil.

But he was right—since his reasons had to be complex, we didn’t have the time for him to explain everything. But I wouldn’t forget, and as soon as the chance presented itself, I’d convince him to honor me with the truth.

Dion hadn’t told me exactly what kind of punishment awaited him at the hands of the HighKing, but considering his reaction, plus all the snippets about his past I’d learned during our travels, and how he used the term abuse, my assumptions all pointed in the same direction.

Thosediscussionshad to be nasty, and despite the bravery I’d shown, I was more than worried. Could I hold back when Dion got mistreated? Could I regard him with indifference if he suffered, or maybe even with contentment or glee?

My throat closed at the thought because if I failed to play a convincing role, everything would take a turn for the worse.

Dion believed Galrach would resort to using us against each other, and the suspicion dawned on me that this summons might be his first attempt to weaponize the fondness he suspected between the prince and me.

Of course, the High King had such speculations, and requesting my presence could very well be an endeavor to confirm those. Even though he considered me so far beneath his own significance, a worm in front of a giant, he didn’t permit himself to underestimate me.

According to Dion, Galrach was a master manipulator who never ceased scheming.