They call him Sir Maeron—the king’s most ruthless sword. No one dares speak against him. Not because of his loyalty, but because of what he does to traitors.

Which makes this all the more twisted.

Because you are one.

You always had a hunch he knew you were a traitor, because his eyes were always on you. However…

“I was ordered to secretly slit your throat tonight,” he says, voice ragged. He stands before you, his expression pained. “Your brother Prince Etienne suspects your alliance with the rebels.”

You cannot breathe. …What is he saying?

“And yet here I am,” Maeron continues, lifting his gaze. “Disobeying a direct command. Breaking every vow I swore.”

Death. Torture. Exile. That’s what betrayal means.

“Tell me to be a coward and I shall be one, my lady. I’ll cowardly hide us both forever, if I must. Or tell me to be brave and stay. I’ll burn the whole kingdom if it keeps you alive.”

To him—treason never tasted this much like love.