The king’s entertaining suite was identical to the queen’s and the princess’s. Kallia sat in one of the large mahogany chairs that lined his table, Prim and Bristol standing behind her with their hands clasped. King Achrod sat beside his daughter, holding her hand, while Queen Mallis paced next to the table, her handmaidens nearby.

All four remaining Lanhami royals sat on the opposite side of the table, the two younger having just joined. Egan’s wet hair announced he’d needed to bathe after discovering the body of his brother, Torra likely staying nearby in case her younger brother needed her after such a traumatic experience. Prim squeezed Bristol’s hand harder imagining Egan hugging Neros’s bloodied corpse in the same way she’d hugged Roan’s.

Not a spot of the stone walls were visible for the presence of so many guards, both navy-uniformed and red-uniformed. One of the kerns had already reported on the scene, explaining what Egan had told them when the prince was still absent, and that their men were still looking the room over for evidence. Kallia didn’t mention she’d sent Dante to do the same.

The Orlanas had expressed their sympathies to the Lanhami King and Queen. Both grieving parents remained straight-faced throughout, steel instead of tears in their eyes. Neither had said a word since the princess and handmaidens entered the chamber. Only when their children arrived did either break. It had been the queen, and only for a moment. Only long enough to stand and wrap both of her children in her arms at once.

Now, the silence stretched on. Prim wasn’t exactly sure what the point of this meeting was. Perhaps just to take inventory of the royals to make sure the others were safe. She wondered how long they would have to stay in here, already feeling suffocated by the dozens of bodies crammed in.

A commotion in the hall pierced the quiet, sending a rippling answer of shuffling bodies and swords as the guards readied and the royals looked to the door. Prim herself straightened. Then she recognized Dante’s grunting voice calling her name.

Prim released Bristol’s hand to grasp Kallia’s shoulder.

“Go,” the princess said without looking at her.

Prim hitched up her skirts to better run as she maneuvered around the furniture and guards of the king’s chamber to thrust open the doors herself, revealing Dante held between two guards by his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” she asked him incredulously. Then she noticed the blood on him and his despondent face.

“Blukke needs Bristol,” Dante panted through gritted teeth.

Prim noticed the guards holding him then--one of whom had the gift of pain, though not nearly as powerful as Roan had been, and had a hand wrapped around the nape of Dante’s neck. “Release him!”

Dante dropped to his knees when the guards let him go and Prim rushed to help him back up. He allowed himself to lean on her more than she had expected him to as he threw an arm over her shoulder, but she gripped his waist tightly and didn’t yield. He’d supported her often enough.

“Blukke needs Bristol,” he repeated, still breathless from the pain. “In Kallia’s chamber. Now. He was stabbed.”

Prim heard Kallia say something, but couldn’t make out the words. It must have been permission to leave as Bristol rushed past them a moment later, nothing but a streak of blue. Tuck and a handful of other guards trailed her.

Kallia stood, placing her hands on the table and directing her attention to Dante. “Sarasha?”

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Dante shook his head. “Gone. The guards posted in your hall were all killed, too.”

Kallia exchanged a look with a kern in an unspoken command to investigate, the man quickly following Bristol and her entourage. “She did this?” the princess asked Dante.

Dante’s weight was crushing and Prim helped guide him to one of the free chairs next to Kallia. Once he was sitting, he answered, Prim standing next to him with a hand on his shoulder. “No. The assailant approached from the northern hallway. The guards at your door and the southern end ran there before being cut down. If it had been Sarasha, the bodies would have been by your door.”

Queen Mallis had paused her pacing to listen, her hands folded over her stomach. “Excuse us,” she said loudly to the Lanhami royals before focusing on her daughter. “Kallia, a word?”

Prim knew Kallia well enough to know the princess was annoyed at the queen’s undermining of her, but there was nothing either of them could do about it. Kallia rose, her father with her. As the queen led her family to the king’s bedchamber for a private conversation, Prim called after her.

“May Dante and I return to Blukke, Princess?”

Kallia nodded. “Of course. See that Lady Bristol has everything she needs.”

Prim ignored the confused look on Dante’s face as she helped him up again. He still leaned on her, but not nearly as much. A solidly built guard whom Prim was friendly with extracted himself from the wall to offer to help Dante in her stead, but she declined. The pair made their way back to Kallia’s chamber with Dante recovering enough to walk on his own by the time they neared, though Prim still kept an arm around his waist. “Why didn’t you use your gift on the guards to make them let you through?”

Dante pulled away from her, but took her hand as they continued their walk, running his thumb over her ring. “I didn’t think they would appreciate that. I assumed it was frowned upon to use your gift on a fellow guard. If I’d known he was going to use his on me, I certainly would have.”

Prim snorted. “Since when do you care if some royal guards appreciate you or not?”

They neared the turn to Kallia’s hallway and Dante paused. “Are you up for seeing this?”

No. But she would push through. Like Dante a moment before, she ignored the question.

Prim turned the corner to find the kern who Kallia had sent along with a couple other guards tending to the bodies. She didn’t look at them. She knew who they were. She knew their voices and their smiles and their eyes full of life. She wanted to remember them like that. She kept her eyes forward as she felt Dante’s hand on her waist guiding her to the door.

Once inside, Dante’s breath of relief swept over the back of her head. “Thank the gods,” he said, pushing past her to approach the square of chaises. Prim followed.

Blukke sat shirtless upon a bloodied chaise, his eyes alert as he smiled softly down at the handmaiden kneeling before him. Bristol leaned in close, her fingers brushing over a patch of his side that revealed red skin but no wound. The handmaiden leaned back on her heels.

“You’re lucky it hit where it did. That was an easy fix. I could probably have still helped you if it had hit an organ, but you’d have quite the road of recovery ahead of you. As it is, you’ll only be a bit sore and weak for a couple days as your blood replenishes.”

Bristol pushed herself off the ground and as she did so, the shifter wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap with a slight wince. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you for saving my life, Lady Bristol.”

A mischievous smile crossed her lips. “We can discuss your payment later,” she said coyly, too low for the lingering guards to hear. She slid off his lap to sit next to him on his unwounded side where the cushion was still free of blood.

“You knew she had a healing gift?” Dante asked the shifter.

“Of course,” Blukke said weakly but with cheer. “Why’d you think I wanted you to get her?”

Shit, had Prim never told Dante that? Thank Solin he’d never needed use of Bristol’s gift. Prim offered an apologetic smile.

Dante ignored the shifter’s question. “Are you up for explaining what the hell happened?”