Page 172 of Sharpest Court

So I had to make this one strike count.

“What an exceptional disappointment you have become, Miss Kimba.” Arun spoke softly, seeming truly remorseful at the loss of his former apprentice. “Aiding the release of a Hunter, after having suffered so personally under their cruelty?” He tutted. “Your parents must be rolling in their unmarked graves.”

The frayed string of her temper snapped; she lurched forward so violently that the guards were almost too slow to wrench her back.

“You’d do well to keep yourself in check,” Arun drawled. “As a former member of the Imperial Guard, you may receive some degree of leniency.” He looked pointedly toward Keil. “Though you shall not be granted the same unconditional pardon as Their Royal Highnesses.” He spat those last words out as though to rid himself of their bitter taste.

But while Keil held his stare, unshaken, the guards looked away.

And for the first time, I noticed those guards’ expressions: their furrowed brows, their mouths, screwed in discomfort. Keil possessed royal immunity and therefore wouldn’t be tried as a criminal for his actions tonight. Still, he’d been chained and dosed anyway—a lapse in law that Rheya never would have allowed.

Which meant Arun was already operating as though Rheya wouldn’t return. As though this borrowed power was his to keep.

As Arun finally looked toward me in dark amusement, I let the power flood inside me, just as Stian had taught me.

“I expect we’ll have to keep a close watch on you, Lady Alissa,” Arun said. “It seems you have a knack for escaping confinement.”

My fists curled as I met the minister’s stare. Maybe we were outnumbered. But right now, I only had one target.

A small, anticipatory smile began twitching around Arun’s mouth as I brought my power to the surface.

“I’ve had practice,” I said.

Then I released.

I saw the wave surge out of me, roaring toward him, pulsing with strength.

And I saw my power tear through the center a second before the pain reached my bones.

I cried out, jerking back as the force rebounded. Keil shouted my name—the first crack in his composure—but I ignored him. Quickly refortifying the power, I sent another lash forward.

Arun slashed through it again.

Then again, and again, just as I’d done to him in the council chamber. Only now his attack felt effortless, his technique honed by years of experience. Now I was the one wide-eyed, scrambling to re-form my power after every strike.

Arun’s next slice cut deeper, and a raw, desperate sound broke out of me.

His laughter crawled along my spine. “Whoever trained you did a splendid job. But they could not teach your face, nor your body, to lie.” He slanted his head, eyes twinkling. “Your earlier demonstration was very useful.”

I paused, panting as I remembered how his shrewd gaze had darted over me in the council chamber. He must have let me win that battle just so he could see me Wield—so he could catalog my tells. It was why he hadn’t yet dosed me with dullroot: because he’d wanted this form of torture open to him.

He’d wanted the option of ripping through my specter each time I had the audacity to let it loose.

A deep horror took root inside me as I realized the enormity of my mistake. I might as well have turned my specter visible before him. Because now, I couldn’t strike him before he struck me first.

I was the most powerful I had ever been. Yet even without the restraint of dullroot, I had somehow rendered myself powerless.

“Enough,” Keil said, his voice reverberating through the room. But it was to me he looked next, his gaze softening. “You don’t have to do this.”

I drew back, startled. Was I supposed to let Arun drag me into one more prison? To sit back as the others were punished for my foolish plan?

Before I could open my mouth, Keil looked toward Arun, his strong profile hardening in defiance. “I refute your claims, Your Excellency.”

Arun raised a brow. “So you and your companions were not conspiring to release a prisoner of the Crown? You did not collectively incapacitate two dozen guards before you were subdued?”

“Those are not the claims I refute.” The solidity of Keil’s expression filled me with a strange sense of dread. “You stated that I shall be granted an unconditional pardon, but you are mistaken. Once Rheya returns, she may do with me what she wishes. In the meantime, I confess that I sought to access the Hunter because she had information that could dethrone a vicious king. Information you were unwilling to extract. This was my idea, my scheme—”

“Stop.” I rocked forward, heart slamming. “What are you—?”