Truth Has a Taste of Blood
The court learned how to watch without blinking.
Lumi felt it the moment she and Blake stepped into the throne hall—attention sliding over her skin like a blade drawn slow, deliberate. Nobles clustered beneath towering arches, their silks dark as oil, their jewelry set with stones that pulsed faintly with shadow-magic. Power gathered in whispers and half-smiles, in hands that rested too close to hidden weapons.
At twenty-two, Lumi had stood before kings before.
None of them had looked at her like this.
Here, she was not merely a Truth Bearer. She was his.
Blake led her forward with measured steps, his presence commanding silence without a word. The Dreadsword hung at his side, its runes faintly glowing, as though aware it was being paraded before prey. Lumi felt its hunger spike—sharp, eager.
Her curse stirred in response.
Lies rippled through the room like heat over stone.
They doubt her.
Pain flared behind her eyes.
They plan to test her.
Her breath hitched.
Someone here wants him dead.
The pain intensified, a hot line drawn behind her eyes and down her spine. Lumi forced her steps not to falter. She had learned long ago that showing weakness only invited sharper truths.
They reached the dais. Blake took his place with practiced ease, one hand resting casually on the throne's arm, the other brushing—briefly, deliberately—against the small of Lumi's back.
The contact grounded her.
It should not have.
"Present the Truth Bearer," the Shadow Regent intoned.
Blake did not move his hand.
"This is Lumi Reyes," he said instead, his voice smooth and unhurried. "My chosen consort."
A lie.
The word burned.
Lumi felt the truth recoil inside her, sharp enough to draw blood. She tasted iron at the back of her throat and knew, distantly, that her nose was bleeding. She kept her face serene even as pain bloomed behind her eyes like a storm.
Murmurs swept the hall.
Chosen.
Consort.
Blake's thumb pressed lightly, a silent question.
Can you endure this?
Lumi lifted her chin.
"Yes," she said clearly. "I stand by the prince of my own will."
Agony lanced through her skull.
The truth screamed.
She swayed—and Blake caught her instantly, his arm firm around her waist. Gasps echoed through the court, but Blake did not look away from her.
"Careful," he murmured under his breath. "You're bleeding."
"I know," she whispered back. "They're lying."
"That's their nature."
His was not.
The realization hit her harder than the pain.
A noblewoman stepped forward, smile too sharp to be kind. "Forgive us, Your Highness," she said sweetly. "But a Truth Bearer's word carries weight. Would she not confirm her devotion?"
The court leaned in.
A test.
Lumi felt it instantly—the trap woven with careful precision. If she spoke the truth of her feelings, it would expose the lie. If she lied outright, the pain might render her unconscious.
Blake stiffened beside her.
"Enough," he said.
But Lumi stepped forward before he could stop her.
She met the noblewoman's gaze and chose her words with surgical care. "Truth is not obedience," she said. "And devotion is not something proven through spectacle."
The pain flared—but less violently.
Not a lie.
Not the full truth either.
The noblewoman recoiled, unsettled.
Blake exhaled slowly. His hand tightened at Lumi's waist, steadying her. "You forget yourself," he said coldly. "Question her again, and I will remind you who bleeds first in this court."
Silence crashed down.
The Dreadsword hummed, pleased.
As the court dispersed, whispers trailing behind them, Blake guided Lumi from the dais. Only when they reached a shadowed alcove did he let the mask slip.
"You shouldn't have done that," he said quietly.
Lumi wiped the blood from beneath her nose with the back of her hand. "I had to. If they sense weakness—"
"They'll tear you apart," he finished. "Yes. I know."
His gaze lingered on the blood staining her fingers, something dark and conflicted flickering in his eyes.
"This is what being bound to me costs," Blake said. "Pain. Suspicion. Blood."
Lumi met his gaze steadily, even as her head still throbbed. "Truth always costs blood," she said. "The difference is whether it's worth it."
For a long moment, Blake said nothing.
Then, quietly, honestly, he replied, "I didn't think anyone would ever choose that for me."
The truth inside Lumi went very still.
And for the first time since entering Noctyrrh, she wondered if the lie they had agreed to tell was already becoming something far more dangerous.