The scent of blood lingered long after they left the court.
Aurelia's fingers trembled as she gripped the edge of her gown, her breath shallow. The air still felt heavy, thick with the memory of the blade sinking through flesh. The cries, the panic, the sharp metallic tang — it clung to her skin.
She hadn't realized she was shaking until Malion's hand brushed hers, steady and warm, as if nothing had happened.
"Easy," he murmured, his tone calm — too calm. "You'll draw attention if you keep trembling like that."
Aurelia jerked her hand away, eyes wide. "You killed him," she whispered. "In front of everyone."
Malion glanced down at his gloves, flexing his fingers as if to test how the blood had dried. "Yes," he said simply. "And yet, no one dared stop me. Isn't that interesting?"
Her stomach turned. "You promised—"
"I promised not to punish him by law," he interrupted, his voice cutting like a knife through silk. "I kept my word."
