Valka
The body is cleared in minutes, the room emptied, save for me and Lucien.
His face is hard as ice as he lifts a bloodied hand to my chin. I flinch, but he grips my jaw anyway, tilting my head left and right, examining the bruises Alfie's fists left on my cheeks, smearing Lord Ashwynd's blood against my skin.
"You could've stopped it," he says after what feels like an eternity, voice soft. "Why didn't you?"
There is no one response to that question. It was a lot of reasons, none of which I am willing to share. I smack his hand off my chin. "I could ask you the same thing. You could've stopped at any point. But you didn't? Why?"
He leans over, intruding my space. His lips brush my cheek and a hint of frost kisses my skin from the contact, soothing the pain radiating from my broken nose. "You want to know one of the fun things about being King?" He darts a tongue out and licks the blood off the corner of my mouth. "I answer to no one."
