Blades & Lies

Chapter 13: A Dangerous Invitation

Evelyn didn't sleep.

Even after Damien had turned away, lying back in bed as if their conversation hadn't unraveled something deep, her mind kept replaying his words.

His past. His silence.

The haunted look in his eyes when she had pressed him for the truth.

She had spent years thinking of Damien Aldric as an arrogant, insufferable thorn in her side—a man who spoke too easily, smirked too often, and treated danger like a game.

But tonight had revealed something else.

Something she wasn't sure she was ready to confront.

And the worst part?

She wasn't sure if it was pity she felt for him.

Or something else entirely.

The thought unsettled her.

She needed to focus.

So, instead of resting, she turned her attention to the mission, going over everything they had learned so far.

Velthorne was not loyal to the king—that much was clear.

The prisoners in his dungeon weren't just political captives; they were evidence of a brewing rebellion.

And now, Velthorne was testing them—gauging where their true allegiances lay.

They had to tread carefully.

Because if Velthorne suspected for even a second that they were here to expose him—

He would have them killed before sunrise.

The next morning, a summons arrived.

Evelyn and Damien had barely finished dressing when a servant knocked on their chamber door, bowing low before delivering the message.

"Lord Velthorne requests your presence in the courtyard," the man said stiffly. "Immediately."

Evelyn exchanged a glance with Damien.

That was never a good sign.

By the time they stepped outside, the sun was just beginning to rise over the estate, casting long golden streaks through the misty air. The courtyard was bustling—guards lined the perimeter, servants rushed about, and at the center of it all stood Lord Velthorne, dressed in a dark embroidered coat, hands folded behind his back.

At his side stood a man Evelyn didn't recognize.

He was tall, lean, with sharp cheekbones and cold gray eyes. He carried himself with an air of authority, yet there was something predatory about him—as if he was studying everyone around him, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Velthorne turned as they approached, offering them a polite smile.

"Lord and Lady Aldric," he greeted smoothly. "I trust you slept well?"

Damien grinned lazily. "Like newlyweds."

Evelyn resisted the urge to kick him.

Velthorne chuckled before gesturing to the man beside him. "This is Lord Alistair Veyne—an esteemed ally of mine."

Evelyn's stomach tightened.

She knew that name.

Alistair Veyne was one of King Verrin's closest enforcers—a man rumored to handle disloyalty with swift, merciless efficiency.

If he was here, that meant Verrin's eye was already on Velthorne.

And that meant things were about to get very dangerous.

Alistair inclined his head slightly, his cold gaze sweeping over them with mild curiosity.

"So these are the king's trusted envoys," he mused. "I expected… more."

Evelyn kept her expression neutral, but she felt Damien shift beside her.

A slow smirk curved his lips. "Oh, I do love disappointing expectations."

Alistair's lips twitched slightly, but his gaze sharpened.

"Tell me, Lord Aldric," he continued, voice calm, measured, "do you truly believe in King Verrin's rule?"

Evelyn's breath caught.

This was a trap.

A simple question—one designed to measure their loyalty.

Answer too eagerly, and they'd be labeled blind followers.

Hesitate, and they'd be marked as potential traitors.

Damien, of course, looked completely at ease.

He tilted his head slightly. "I believe in keeping my head attached to my body," he said with a grin. "And, last I checked, that means keeping the king happy."

Alistair studied him for a moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.

"A smart answer," he murmured. "For now."

Evelyn resisted the urge to let out a relieved breath.

Velthorne, however, seemed amused.

"Well, my lord, I would hate to bore our guests with politics so early in the day," he said smoothly. "Instead, I thought we might offer them something more… exciting."

Evelyn's instincts immediately went on high alert.

She didn't like the way he said that.

"Exciting?" Damien asked, raising a brow. "That sounds ominous."

Velthorne merely smiled.

Then, with a wave of his hand, he gestured toward the other side of the courtyard, where a row of horses stood saddled and waiting.

"A hunt," Velthorne announced. "It is tradition in Veridorn to welcome guests with a friendly competition."

Evelyn frowned. "A hunt for what?"

Velthorne's smile widened just slightly.

And that's when she heard it—a low, guttural growl from beyond the stables.

Then another.

Then another.

The ground shuddered slightly, as if something large was moving beneath it.

Evelyn's pulse spiked.

Because that sound—that wasn't normal.

Velthorne turned back to them, his expression calm, collected.

"We will be hunting a draken."

Evelyn's blood ran cold.

Drakens were ancient, scaled beasts, larger than warhorses, their hides as tough as armor. They were incredibly rare, incredibly dangerous, and normally avoided by even the most seasoned hunters.

But now, they were supposed to chase one down as sport?

Evelyn felt a flicker of disgust—but she masked it immediately, keeping her expression composed.

This wasn't about the hunt.

This was about proving themselves.

Velthorne was watching them closely, testing them, waiting for any sign of hesitation.

They couldn't refuse.

Not without raising suspicion.

Damien let out a low whistle, stepping closer. "A draken?" he mused. "And here I was hoping for deer."

Velthorne chuckled. "You'll find our hunts are a little more… thrilling."

Evelyn clenched her jaw.

Damien turned to her, silver eyes glinting with mischief and warning.

"Well, love?" he said. "Shall we play along?"

Evelyn forced a tight smile, her fingers already itching toward the blade at her waist.

"We don't have a choice," she murmured.

Damien's smirk widened. "Now you're learning."

And with that, they mounted their horses—riding straight into the most dangerous game of their lives.