Isabella's POV
I didn't sleep that night.
The palace had gone quiet hours ago, but I could still feel the weight of their stares. The whispers clung to the velvet walls like smoke, curling into my lungs, suffocating me slowly.
"Who does she think she is?"
"She's nothing."
"She won't last a week."
They weren't wrong.
I wasn't born into this world. I had no bloodline, no allies, no claim. Just a curse I didn't understand, and a crown that burned like fire on my head.
But I had looked Dominic Thorne in the eye and said I belonged to him.
And that lie might've just saved my life.
He hadn't denied it.
Not in front of them. Not when it mattered.
Now I was alone in the royal chamber, staring at the ceiling painted with ancient constellations. Queens before me had died in this room. Some were poisoned. Others went mad. One supposedly slit her own throat with the ceremonial dagger now displayed beneath glass on the far wall.
I couldn't stop thinking about it.
Not the blade but the silence that must've come after.
A part of me wanted to cry.
A bigger part refused to break.
Because if I broke now, I'd never be able to piece myself back together.
A soft knock echoed from the other side of the door. I sat up straight, heart thundering.
It was too late for visitors.
And far too early for safety.
"Who is it?" I called, gripping the edge of the sheets.
No answer.
I rose slowly and crossed the floor in bare feet. My fingers hesitated on the handle.
I opened it anyway.
Dominic.
He stood in the hallway, dressed in dark leather, his blade still sheathed at his hip. His face was unreadable, as always, but his eyes… they weren't cold tonight. Just quiet. Careful.
"You shouldn't be here," I whispered, even though I was already stepping aside.
He entered without a word.
The air between us pulsed with something I couldn't name. Not trust. Not yet. But not fear, either.
He circled the room once, as if checking for ghosts, then stopped near the window.
"You lied today," he said.
I flinched, but I didn't deny it. "Would you have preferred I stayed silent?"
"I would've preferred the truth."
I crossed my arms. "The truth wouldn't have protected me."
He looked at me then. Really looked.
"You think claiming me did?"
"I think it bought me time." I took a step closer. "And I think you know exactly how valuable that is in this court."
His jaw tightened. "You're not wrong."
Silence settled again, thick and heavy.
"You shouldn't have been chosen," he said finally. "But now that you have… they will test you. Break you, if they can."
I met his gaze. "Then they'll have to try harder."
His mouth twitched. Just for a second. As if he was hiding a smile.
But then he was the Consort again. Controlled. Sharp.
"You need to learn the court," he said. "How they think. How they kill. And you need to do it fast."
"Will you teach me?" I asked, even though I wasn't sure if I trusted him.
He turned toward the window again. "I'll keep you alive."
It wasn't an answer.
But it was something.
When he finally left, the room felt colder.
But I felt less alone.
For the first time since the crown touched my head…
I started to believe I might survive this.
Even if it killed me.