When Shadows Bow
The punishment chamber lay beneath the Obsidian Court, carved so deep into the bedrock that even sound hesitated to enter it.
Lumi felt the descent long before the stairs ended. Each step downward thickened the air, shadow pressing close like a held breath. Torches burned low here, their flames darkened to indigo, casting more absence than light.
Blake walked ahead of her.
He had not spoken since leaving the rotunda. His silence was different now—not guarded, but deliberate. The truth inside Lumi recognized it immediately.
Decision.
At twenty-two, Lumi had learned to fear silence that came after pain.
The guards halted at a pair of iron doors etched with sigils meant to contain things that should not be allowed to linger. Blake raised a hand. The guards retreated without question.
"You don't have to be here," he said without turning.
Lumi clasped her hands together. "Yes," she replied quietly. "I do."
That was truth.
Blake faced her then, his expression unreadable. For a moment, she thought he might argue. Instead, he nodded once.
"Then don't look away," he said. "The court must understand what it means to test what is mine."
Mine.
The word landed hard, dangerous and intimate all at once.
The doors opened.
Lady Vaelthorne knelt in the center of the chamber, her elegant court attire torn, her composure fractured but not broken. Chains of shadow bound her wrists, anchoring her to the stone floor. She lifted her head when they entered, eyes flashing with fury—and fear.
"Prince Crowe," she said coldly. "Is this how you reward loyalty?"
"You were not loyal," Blake replied calmly. "You were curious."
Lumi felt the lie coiled tightly inside the woman, sharp and venomous.
She planned to expose you.
Pain lanced through Lumi's skull. She bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from reacting.
Blake's hand tightened slightly at his side. "You attempted to force a Truth Bearer into public collapse," he continued. "In my court."
Lady Vaelthorne laughed bitterly. "You bind yourself to a weapon and expect us not to test it?"
The Dreadsword hummed.
Blake drew it with a sound like night tearing open.
The chamber seemed to recoil. Shadows lifted from the walls, bowing toward the blade as if pulled by invisible strings. Lumi felt the weight of it then—not hunger alone, but reverence.
This was not merely a weapon.
It was authority made manifest.
"You mistake her," Blake said, his voice carrying effortlessly. "She is not a weapon. She is a boundary."
He stepped closer to Lady Vaelthorne. The shadows followed, coiling at his feet.
"You wanted proof," he said. "So I will give you truth."
He glanced back at Lumi. "Tell me," he said gently, "does she regret what she did?"
The question struck like a blade.
Lumi's vision blurred as truth surged violently forward. She tasted blood instantly.
She does not.
"She believes you are weak," Lumi said, each word burning. "She believes your affection makes you vulnerable."
Lady Vaelthorne's eyes widened.
The truth slammed into the chamber, heavy and undeniable.
Blake nodded slowly. "Thank you."
He raised the Dreadsword.
"No," Lady Vaelthorne whispered. "Wait—"
Blake did not strike her.
Instead, he plunged the blade into the stone beside her head.
Shadow exploded outward, ripping through the chamber in a violent wave. Lady Vaelthorne screamed as darkness wrapped around her, seeping into her skin, marking her with living sigils that burned bright before sinking beneath the surface.
When the shadows receded, she collapsed, gasping.
"She will live," Blake said coldly. "But she will never lie convincingly again. The shadows will answer her every falsehood."
Lady Vaelthorne sobbed, broken.
Lumi's knees weakened. Blake was at her side instantly, steadying her with one hand.
"You didn't need to see that," he murmured.
"Yes," she whispered. "I did."
They stood there together, the aftermath thick and heavy.
"You used me," Lumi said quietly—not accusing, simply stating truth.
Blake stiffened. "I asked."
"And I answered," she said. "But understand this—every time you do, it costs me."
He turned to face her fully, his expression raw in a way she had not seen before. "I will not let them hurt you again," he said. "Not while I breathe."
The truth inside her went still.
That was not a lie.
As they left the chamber, shadows parted for them, bowing low.
And for the first time, Lumi understood something that made her chest ache:
In Noctyrrh, the night did not rule Blake Crowe.
Blake Crowe ruled the night.