Chapter 62 The King's Dilemma

Chapter 62 The King's Dilemma
Nobles shouting agreement. Others trying to defend her. Varian moving closer to Thessaly like he expected violence. The bond blazed with Davorin's rage, so hot it nearly burned.

"ENOUGH."

One word. Davorin didn't shout it. Didn't raise his voice at all. But the temperature dropped twenty degrees and shadows bled from every corner of the room.

Silence crashed down like a hammer.

Davorin rose from the throne, and Thessaly had never seen him look more like a king. More dangerous. More absolutely done with everyone's nonsense.

"You want to execute her," he said quietly. "That's what this is. Not exile. Not imprisonment. You want her head."

"For the good of the realm," Elowen said.

"For the good of your ambition." Davorin descended the steps, and nobles scrambled back. "You think I don't see what you're doing? Thessaly is the excuse. I'm the target. You want to prove you can make me choose between her and my crown."

"Then choose, Your Majesty."

The challenge hung in the air. Every person in the room held their breath.

Thessaly wanted to tell him to choose the crown. To do the smart thing. She wasn't worth a civil war, wasn't worth him losing the support of half his nobles.

But Davorin looked at her, and something in his expression made her heart stop.

He'd already decided.

"Anyone who touches her," Davorin said, turning back to the council, "answers to me. Personally. Not the courts. Not the guards. Me."

The silence was deafening.

"Your Majesty," Corwin said carefully, "you can't mean that."

"I mean every word. She's under my protection. Permanently. And if anyone in this room has a problem with that, you can challenge me directly." Shadows coiled around his feet. "I'll be happy to discuss it."

Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.

"This is insane," Elowen breathed. "You're choosing her over your entire court."

"Yes," Davorin said simply. "I am."

And Thessaly understood with sudden, terrible clarity what he'd just done.

He'd declared war on his own nobles. For her. Because she mattered more to him than their approval, more than political stability, more than keeping his throne secure.

He'd chosen her.

Elowen's face twisted. "You'll regret this."

"Probably." Davorin's voice was arctic. "This council is dismissed."

They filed out in stunned silence. Elowen shot Thessaly a look of pure hatred before sweeping from the room, her faction trailing behind. Within minutes, only Thessaly, Davorin, and Varian remained.

"That could have gone better," Varian said dryly.

"Could have gone worse too." Davorin's shadows receded. "How bad is it?"

"You just lost half your court's support. Maybe more." Varian's expression was grim. "They'll rally behind Elowen now. Call you compromised. Some might even try to remove you."

"Let them try."

Thessaly found her voice. "You shouldn't have done that. You should have let them think you'd consider it."

Davorin looked at her. "No."

"You just made yourself a target. For me. That was stupid and reckless and—"

"Necessary." He crossed to her, stopping close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. "They wanted to take you from me. I wasn't going to let that happen."

"Even if it costs you your throne?"

"Even then."

The bond sang between them, and Thessaly felt the absolute certainty of his conviction. He meant it. Would give up everything if it meant keeping her safe.

She was terrified by how much that meant to her.

"We need to prepare," Varian said. "Elowen won't let this go. She'll regroup, find allies, come at you harder."

"I know." Davorin didn't look away from Thessaly. "But she'll have to go through me first."

After Varian left, Thessaly stood in the empty council chamber trying to process what had just happened.

Davorin had declared war on his own court. For her.

Because somewhere between the assassination attempts and the midnight conversations and learning each other's stories, this had become more than a prophecy or political convenience.

This was real.

And that terrified her more than any death threat ever could.

"They're going to kill you," she whispered. "Elowen won't stop until you're dead or dethroned."

"Then we'd better complete the bond before she gets the chance," Davorin said.

Thessaly's head snapped up. "What?"

"The full Unity Ceremony. We need to do it. Soon." His jaw was tight. "Before the Void takes control completely, and before my court decides to solve both problems by putting a knife in my back."

"That's not funny."

"I'm not joking." He moved closer, and the intensity in his eyes made her breath catch. "I'm done pretending this is just about the prophecy. I'm done lying to myself about what you mean to me. So yes, we're doing the ceremony. And yes, it's terrifying. But I'd rather face that with you than spend one more day pretending I don't care if they take you away."

Thessaly stared at him. "When did you get so honest?"

"About three minutes ago when I chose you over my entire kingdom." His mouth quirked. "Seemed like a good time to start."

She wanted to laugh. Wanted to cry. Wanted to kiss him and tell him he was an idiot and thank him for being willing to lose everything for her.

Instead she took his hand, lacing their fingers together.

"Then we do it," she said. "Whatever it takes."

The door slammed open. Varian stood there, face pale.

"We have a problem," he said. "Isleen's talking. And what she's saying about your brother's plans is going to change everything.”