The blade was at my throat when my bodyguard chose my sister. Elias shoved me into the assassin’s path to shield Rosalind—then knelt in my blood and called it duty. Not an accident. A choice. He knew it was likely. The man who taught me to hold a knife, who swore on his mother’s grave to die for me, had switched his loyalty to the new heir. So I gave the only order that made sense: take him outside and break him. Now the family calls it murder, his brothers demand my head, and the truth behind his betrayal points to my stepmother. I trusted him with my life. He proved it was never mine to command.