She grinned at the captain. She was hardly winded. “Better than Valequez’s time.” “And certainly more dramatic,” Pane said. “Was the handkerchief really necessary?”She bit down on her lip and was about to reply when the king stood, the crowd quieting. “Wine for the winners,” he said, and Valequez stalked from his place on the sidelines to stand before the king’s table. Matilda remained with Pane.The king gestured at Catherine , who obediently picked up a silver tray containing two goblets. She gave one to Valequez, then walked over to Matilda and handed the other to her before pausing in front of the king’s table.“Out of good faith, and honor to the Great Empress,” Catherine said in a dramatic voice. Matilda wanted to punch her. “May it be your offering to the Mother who bore us all. Drink, and let Her bless you, and replenish your strength.” Who had written that little script? Catherine bowed to them, and Matilda raised the goblet to her lips. The king smiled at her, and she tri

Matilda spent the whole night thinking about the turnout of events with Herbert. How did she go from being his executive assistant to being his phony as a three-dollar-bill girlfriend? She'd just gotten out of a relationship and the last thing she wanted was to be in a relationship with any other man, real or faux. The whole process would be an emotional rollercoaster for her. She started the day a little later than usual because of the previous day's activities, and as usual, she had a pile of work waiting for her. She added Penelope's to the list, as she hadn't gotten a hang of it. Food was served to Herbert and her separately, as they shared different rooms. After she was half done with her work for the day, she turned on her cell phone which had been off for a couple of hours. As she came to the internet, her worries stared right at her face. She and Herbert made it to the news headlines, and their relationship was over several social media handles. Her cell phone buzzed not lat

Bolton sprinted through the game park, Matilda keeping pace beside him. The chill morning air was like shards of glass in his lungs; his breath clouded in front of him. They’d bundled up as best they could without weighing themselves down—mostly just layers of shirts and gloves—but even with sweat running down his body, Bolton was freezing.Bolton knew Matilda was freezing, too—her nose was tipped with pink, color stood high on her cheeks, and her ears shone bright red. Noticing his stare, she flashed him a grin, those stunning turquoise eyes full of light. “Tired?” she teased. “I knew you weren’t bothering to train while I was away.”He let out a breathy chuckle. “You certainly didn’t train while you were on your mission. This is the second time this morning that I’ve had to slow my pace for you.”A blatant lie. She kept up with him easily now, nimble as a stag bounding through the woods. Sometimes he found it immensely hard not to watch her—to watch the way she moved.“Keep telling

“Where did your father’s Champion come from?” Roland asked, drawing Leonard’s attention back to the present.Leonard turned toward the castle, heading for a different entrance than the one Benjamin and Matilda had used. He still remembered the way they’d looked when he’d walked in on them embracing in her rooms after the duel, two months ago.“Matilda’s story is hers to tell,” Leonard lied. He just didn’t feel like explaining the competition to his cousin. It was bad enough that his father had ordered him to take Roland on a walk this morning. The only bright spot had been seeing Matilda so obviously contemplate ways to bury the young lord.“Is she for your father’s personal use, or do the other councilmen also employher?”“You’ve been here for less than a day, and you already have enemies to dispatch, cousin?”“We’re Havilliards, cousin. We’ll always have enemies that need dispatching.”Leonard frowned. It was true, though. “Her contract is exclusively with my father. But if you fee

Eleanor —the queen.” “Of course she is. She’s been in there for a thousand years.” The skull’s eyes seemed to glow. “Don’t mock me, or I’ll peel you off this door and melt you down.” “Not even the strongest man in the world could peel me from this door. King Brannon himself put me here to watch over her tomb.” “You’re that old?” The skull huffed. “How insensitive of you to insult me about my age.” Matilda crossed her arms. Nonsense—fight always led to nonsense like this. “What’s your name?” “What is your name?” “Matilda Sardothien,” she ground out. The skull barked a laugh. “Oh, that is too funny! The funniest thing I’ve heard in centuries!” “Be quiet.” “My name is Mason , if you must know.” She picked up the candle. “Can I expect all of our encounters to be this pleasant?” She reached for the door handle. “Aren’t you even going to knock, after all that? You truly have no manners.” She used all of her self-control to avoid banging on his little face as she made three unn