Maisie
My path to the podium was blocked off as a dozen guards spread out around Quinlan and I, surrounding us in a circle with various arms pointed at us.
My back hit Quinlan's as I tried to figure out moving without getting shot in the head.
"Step aside, Chastain," Ryder said, not bothering with a weapon as he crossed the distance.
Quinlan's eyes moved once across the field, counting bodies, exits, angles. I felt the tension in his back, the restraint in the hand that kept me tucked behind him. "Lay a single finger on her, and I'll have your head hanging off a fucking spike."
Ryder let out a raspy chuckle. "You're both deeply fucked. Outnumbered. If you didn't want your little plaything getting hurt, you should've kept a leash on her. This was out of your control the second she attempted to murder the Queen."
Quinlan's head turned just enough to look at me over his shoulder. His face was stricken with pure disbelief. "What did you do?"
I swallowed. "I can explain."
