Page 72 of Tower of Ash and Darkness (Tower of Ash #1)

Vanessa chooses that moment to step forward, moving to my side with predatory grace, her arm sliding around my neck.

Before I can stop her, her lips capture mine in a theatrical kiss that’s as exaggerated as it is revolting.

Her moan is loud, almost obscene, echoing through the hall with the precision of a perfectly rehearsed act.

When she finally pulls away, a self-satisfied smirk tugs at her lips.

“Yes, very beautiful, Princess,” she says, her voice dripping with mockery.

I glance back at Lailah, and her expression has hardened. Her eyes are cold now, her posture rigid as if she’s trying to bury whatever emotions are threatening to surface. Her fingers curl against the fabric of her dress, a small but telling sign of her restraint.

Clyde chuckles low as he leans back, humming softly like a man admiring his handiwork. His eyes gleam as he watches, the tension between us feeding his satisfaction.

Vanessa steps back slightly, her gaze flitting to Clyde for approval, while I force a tight smile.

Inside, frustration churns, but I bury it deep.

Jason leans down to whisper something softly into Lailah’s ear, his hand resting protectively on hers.

She smiles at him, a look of warmth and serenity on her face.

Vanessa’s nails trail along my arm as she murmurs something in my ear, but her words are drowned out by the roar of my own thoughts. My focus remains locked on Lailah as she glances at me one last time, before she turns away, retreating fully into Jason’s side.

“Father?” Lailah’s voice cuts through the din, softer now, but with a clarity that makes everyone pause.

Clyde’s attention snaps back to her, his head tilting in that overly indulgent way of his, the faintest trace of amusement flickering in his expression.

“Yes, my sweet?”

Lailah smiles, a delicate, almost disarming curve of her lips that hides the steel beneath.

“Jason and I were thinking,” she says gently, “how lovely it would be to honeymoon at the palace by the river for a week or two, instead of traveling with the army to the Striden lands.”

The air in the room seems to shift, and I feel the knot of frustration in my core tighten. My gaze darts to Jason, who stands tall beside her. He’s silent, but the disquiet in his frame is clear as he glances between Lailah and Clyde.

Clyde’s brows furrow slightly, his mask of affection cracking just enough to reveal the calculating mind beneath. He hesitates, as though weighing the request against his plans, before speaking.

“My sweet,” he begins, his voice low and coaxing, “I don’t think it’s safe for the two of you to venture alone into the Riverlands.

” He pauses, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the arm of his chair.

“It’s a beautiful place, yes, but secluded.

Hard to defend. And given the… delicate nature of these times, I would feel much more comfortable knowing you’re protected. ”

The calculated gentleness of his words makes my jaw clench. Every syllable feels like a veiled maneuver, his concern an artful guise for keeping her—and his plans—exactly where he wants them.

“I understand your concern, Father,” Lailah replies, her voice still sweet, though the subtle edge hasn’t softened.

“But surely Jason and I wouldn’t be completely alone?

A small retinue, perhaps? A few guards? It would still give us the privacy to enjoy some peace after…

” She trails off, her lashes lowering just enough to sell the image of a dutiful bride shyly deferring to her father’s wisdom.

Clyde chuckles softly, but the sound is devoid of warmth.

“You make a compelling case, my dear,” he says, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But my decision stands. The Striden lands are safer. You’ll travel with the army, and Jason will show you his home. After all, it will be your future home, won’t it?”

Lailah’s smile falters for the briefest moment before she recovers, her hands clasped in front of her to keep from fidgeting.

“Of course, Father,” she says smoothly, though I can see the tension in her shoulders.

I catch a flash of the frustration she tries so hard to mask. For all her strength, there’s still a part of her that feels the weight of his control, the shadow he casts over every choice she makes. Clyde turns his attention to Jason, his tone shifting slightly, more pointed.

“I trust you’ll keep my daughter safe, Striden. She’s a precious thing, after all.”

Jason inclines his head.

“Of course, Your Grace. I will do everything in my power to protect her.”

The subtle edge in Jason’s tone doesn’t go unnoticed—not by me.

Clyde smiles as if content with his answer.

The moment stretches uncomfortably, the suspense overpowering.

Lailah’s hands are still clasped tightly in front of her, and I can tell she’s fighting the urge to say something more, to challenge him. But she doesn’t. Not yet.

Clyde’s gaze shifts back to me, his smile widening slightly as if daring me to react.

“What do you think, Ghost?” he asks, his tone light but cutting. “Surely you agree that the Striden lands are the better choice?”

My lips curl into a tight smile, though inside, my frustration churns.

“I think,” I say carefully, “that the princess’s safety is always paramount. Wherever she goes, it should be with the utmost protection. ”

It’s a diplomatic response, but Clyde’s smile tells me he hears the restraint in my voice.

“Then it’s settled,” Clyde says, clapping his hands once, the sound echoing through the hall. “The two of you will leave for the Striden lands with the army. It will be a grand journey, and who knows, Lailah? Perhaps you’ll find it even more enchanting than the Riverlands.”

Lailah bows her head slightly, her voice soft as she replies, “Of course, Father. Whatever you think is best.”

Clyde turns to Jason, his expression shifting into something more serious, though his indulgent tone remains.

“Jason, a word in my office before you leave for the night. There are a few… details to finalize regarding your journey,” he says smoothly, gesturing toward the doors leading to his private study.

Jason hesitates for only a moment before inclining his head.

“Of course, my King.”

Lailah’s gaze follows Jason as he steps toward her father, her hands still tightly clasped in front of her.

She doesn’t say anything, but the rigidity in her posture is unmistakable.

Jason glances at her briefly, his eyes meeting hers, and for a fleeting moment, something unspoken passes between them.

Then, without a word, he follows Clyde out of the room, the heavy doors closing behind them with a muted thud.

Left in the hall, Lailah’s composure falters slightly, her shoulders stiffening as her eyes linger on the closed doors.

The ache of being excluded, of being treated as little more than a pawn, is clear in the way her lips press into a thin line.

She takes a deep breath, her chin lifting slightly as if to steel herself.

Her gaze darts to me, and for the briefest moment, her eyes meet mine.

There’s something there—frustration, vulnerability, and maybe even a hint of trust—but it’s gone almost as quickly as it appears.

I hold her gaze, keeping my own unreadable.

Lailah’s eyes drop first, and she turns away, retreating toward the throne room doors. Her hands are clenched at her sides, the agitation radiating off her in waves. The sound of the heavy doors opening echoes through the space, and I watch as she disappears into the shadows of the corridor beyond.

I remain where I am, staring after her, the weight of everything hanging over me like a blade poised to drop. Whatever she’s feeling, whatever she’s planning, I know one thing for certain: Lailah isn’t retreating to lick her wounds.

Even though I would gladly do that for her.