Blades & Lies

Evelyn's world tilted.

The second Damien's lips pressed against hers, her body tensed instinctively.

The grand throne room of Veridorn blurred into the background, every watchful gaze of nobles, knights, and advisors fading beneath the shocking reality of what was happening.

She had been prepared for deception, for feigned closeness, for whispers and scripted affection.

She had not been prepared for this.

The kiss was perfectly executed, smooth and deliberate, neither rushed nor hesitant. Just the right amount of pressure, just the right amount of lingering warmth, making it seem utterly real.

And damn him—he was good at it.

Evelyn's hands remained frozen at her sides, her heartbeat pounding furiously in her ears. A part of her screamed to push him away, to end this before it could spiral into something worse.

But the other part—the part that knew the stakes—reminded her that this was no longer about her pride.

This was about survival.

So, in the fraction of a second that felt like an eternity, Evelyn played her part.

She let her body relax, tilting her head ever so slightly, allowing just the barest hint of a response—not enough to give Damien any satisfaction, but just enough to sell the illusion.

And when he finally pulled away, his silver eyes flickered with something unreadable.

The throne room remained dead silent.

Then—King Verrin smiled.

The expression was slow, knowing, almost amused.

"Well," the king murmured, reclining against the obsidian throne. "That was quite the performance."

Evelyn forced herself to breathe evenly, to school her features into something pleasantly neutral.

Damien, of course, looked completely unbothered, as if he hadn't just stolen a kiss in front of an entire royal court.

He smirked, tilting his head slightly. "Your Majesty, I can assure you—it was no performance."

King Verrin's piercing gaze settled on him, then shifted to Evelyn.

"Do you agree, Lady Evelyn?"

Evelyn's jaw tightened.

She had two options. She could deny it, call Damien a liar, claim that his little display had been nothing but theatrics.

But that would cast doubt.

It would imply hesitation, uncertainty—something Verrin would immediately exploit.

So, she did the only thing she could.

She smiled. "Of course, Your Majesty."

The king's expression remained unreadable, but his fingers tapped lightly against the armrest of his throne, as if considering something.

Then he stood, the dark fabric of his cloak cascading like liquid shadow as he descended the short flight of steps from his throne.

"You intrigue me," he mused, stopping just a few feet away.

Evelyn held her ground, refusing to flinch beneath his gaze.

"I was skeptical when I heard of your arrival," Verrin continued. "A newlywed couple, sent to strengthen diplomatic ties? It all sounded so… convenient."

His gray eyes gleamed with something sharp and dangerous.

"But now?" He tilted his head. "Now, I find myself curious."

Evelyn's stomach coiled with unease.

She had seen this type of man before. Calculating. Controlled. The kind that never acted without reason, the kind that would burn down a kingdom just to see what rose from the ashes.

And right now, King Verrin was watching them like a chessboard he was eager to rearrange.

"You will be staying in the palace as my guests," Verrin finally said. "There will be a banquet in your honor tomorrow night."

Evelyn forced a polite nod. "We are honored, Your Majesty."

King Verrin smiled faintly. "Of course you are."

Then, with a slight gesture to his advisor, he turned away, his dark cloak sweeping behind him as he strode toward the exit.

The tension in the throne room dissipated just slightly, but Evelyn knew better than to relax completely.

King Verrin hadn't tested them yet.

He was merely setting the stage.

As soon as they were led to their chambers—a lavish suite lined with black velvet and silver detailing—Evelyn rounded on Damien instantly.

"What the hell was that?" she hissed.

Damien blinked innocently. "A kiss?"

Evelyn's eye twitched. "Oh, you don't say? And here I thought you had just lost your balance and fell on my face."

Damien smirked. "Tempting, but no. That was all part of the act."

Evelyn crossed her arms, glaring daggers at him. "You could've warned me."

"And ruin the authenticity?" Damien leaned casually against one of the ornate bedposts, his amusement barely concealed. "Please, love, if we're going to be convincing, we can't afford hesitation."

Evelyn marched forward, stopping just inches away, her voice dangerously low. "If you do that again without warning, I will put a knife through your ribs."

Damien's lips curved slightly, his voice a soft whisper.

"Would you like to test that theory?"

Evelyn's fingers itched to grab the nearest object and throw it at his stupidly smug face.

Instead, she took a deep breath, forcing herself to step back.

She had bigger things to focus on.

Like the fact that King Verrin was watching them closely.

Like the fact that they were now trapped in the heart of a dangerous kingdom with no allies and no guarantees.

And like the fact that she was currently sharing a suite with Damien Aldric, the most infuriating man alive.

Damien, of course, seemed perfectly at ease, stretching his arms as he collapsed onto the massive bed with a satisfied sigh.

"Would you at least pretend to be stressed?" Evelyn snapped.

Damien smirked, propping his head up on one hand. "Oh, I am. But I prefer to suffer in comfort."

Evelyn closed her eyes, muttering curses under her breath.

This mission was going to be hell.

And they hadn't even made it to the banquet yet.