Metheea reached him before Yise's knife struck the floor.
She did not remember releasing it. She did not remember crossing the space between them.
One moment, the assassin stood over Azrayel with his sword raised. The next, Metheea's hand covered his face and his back struck the wall beside the broken alcove.
The man made a startled sound behind the cloth covering his mouth. His free hand locked around her wrist and pulled, but she barely felt him.
Her palm felt wrong against his face. Too hard. Her fingers pressed into places that should not have yielded beneath them.
After the blessing, Your Highness.
Henter's voice moved through her mind, quiet and warm, nothing like the choking sound coming from the man beneath her hand.
Azrayel lay at their feet, unconscious inside the damaged alcove. The assassin's sword had fallen close enough to land across his body.
Metheea tried to release him.
Her fingers closed harder.
A muffled cry broke behind the mask.
"No."
