Princess Bluffs Harder

[IsabellaRose]

You hold your ground, despite the heavy weight of his gaze, the way his fingers still hover near his dagger. The tension in the air is suffocating, but you don’t back down, you push forward.

"If you kill me," you say, voice low, steady, "you will doom your king."

The knight lets out a short, amused exhale, but there’s an edge of uncertainty behind it. "Is that so?"

You take a slow breath, keeping your expression composed, your lie already forming. You have to sell this.

"My father knew this war was coming," you say, inventing history as you go, layering truth with deception. "Before your army ever reached our gates, before the first sword was drawn, he prepared for the worst."

The knight’s amusement fades slightly. He’s listening.

"He sent envoys to our allies, men sworn to avenge his death. If I die, if House Valoryn falls completely, there will be no peace for your king." You let your voice drop to something cold, something threatening. "Armies will rise from the western shores, from the eastern highlands. They will not stop until Edrington burns."

He shifts slightly, weight adjusting, uncertain now, calculating. Good. You keep pushing.

"My father’s men wait for word. If I live, if I am spared, they will not march. But if I die?" You let the words linger, your tone sharpening. "Then it will not be your king’s rule that expands, but his war. It will become one he cannot win."

The knight’s jaw tightens. You can see it, the flicker of doubt, the thought running through his mind, what if this is true? What if killing me invites disaster? But then, his expression shifts, his smirk returning, sharper, knowing, turning into something colder, crueler. His eyes flick over you with a predator’s amusement, and you feel the first true prickle of fear crawling up your spine.

"That’s quite a story, Princess," he murmurs, his voice almost gentle. Mocking. "But you see…" He takes a step forward, closing the distance between you in an instant. "I don’t recall hearing anything about an alliance army marching to save you."

Your throat tightens. Too late to take it back.

His smirk widens as your silence stretches just a fraction too long. "And if your father truly had such loyal men, such powerful friends…" His voice lowers, becoming almost a purr. "Why did they let your house fall?"

You grasp for another answer, another way out, but his hand snaps forward, grabbing your chin, forcing your gaze up to meet his. His grip is firm, bruising.

"You're lying."

Your breath catches, your body going still, but his smirk only deepens.

"Thought I wouldn’t notice?" His thumb drags slowly along your jawline before he releases you, only to heft his sword instead. The gleaming blade catches the dim torchlight as he looks at you, considering. "You just made a mistake, Princess," he muses, tapping the flat of the blade against his gauntlet. "See, now I know you’ll say anything to save yourself. Which means I don’t have to believe a word you say."

Your stomach twists. You have seconds to decide how to salvage this.

• If you drop the act completely, beg, plead, throw yourself at his mercy, click here <link forthcoming>
• If you try to draw a half-truth from your lie, insist the army isn’t marching yet, but that they’re waiting for your command, click here <link forthcoming>
• If you shift tactics entirely, grab the dagger at his belt, go for his throat, and hope you can end this before he does, click here <link forthcoming>