The King finished off the roast chicken and sipped from whatever was in his bloodred glass. “You’re quiet this morning, Prince.” The conqueror of Texas reached for a platter of smoked fish.“I was waiting for you to speak, Father.” Night-black eyes shifted toward him. “Unusual, indeed.”Maxwell tensed. Only Matida and Bolton knew the truth about his sword —and Bolton had shut him out so completely that Maxwell didn’t feel like attempting to explain himself to his friend. But this castle was full of spies and sycophants who wanted nothing more than to use whatever knowledge they could to advance their position. Including selling out their Crown Prince. Who knew who’d seen him in the hallways or the library, or who had discovered that stack of books he’d hidden in Matida ’s rooms? He’d since moved them down to the tomb, where he went every other night—not for answers to the questions that plagued him but just for an hour of pure silence.His father resumed eating. He’d been in his
Aiden didn’t act without a reason. Perhaps the general had convinced his father to force this excursion. But for what purpose, Maxwell couldn’t grasp. Unless Aiden merely wanted to get a feel for what sort of man Maxwell had become and how well Maxwell could play the game. He wouldn’t put it past the warrior to have done it just to assess a potential ally or threat —Aedion, for all his arrogance, had a cunning mind. He probably viewed court life as another sort of battlefield.Maxwell let Bolton ’s hand-selected guards lead him back into the wonderfully warm castle, then dismissed them with a nod. Bolton hadn’t come today, and he was grateful—after that conversation about his sword , after Bolton refused to speak about Matida , Maxwell wasn’t sure what else was left for them to talk about. He didn’t believe for one moment that Bolton would willingly sanction the deaths of innocent men, no matter whether they were friends or enemies. Bolton had to know, then, that Matida wouldn’t
He didn’t even know who she was.She’d been appointed full healer a year ago, and had been called to attend to the prince, the captain, and their friend countless times. And the Crown Prince still had no idea who she was.She hadn’t lied to him—about failing to keep records of everything. But she remembered it all. Especially that night a month ago, when the three of them had been bloodied up and filthy, the girl’s hound injured, too, with no explanation and no one raising a fuss. And the girl, their friend …The King’s Champion. That’s who she was.Lover, it seemed, of both the prince and his captain at one time or another. Sorscha had helped Amithy tend to the young woman after the brutal duel to win her title. Occasionally, she’d checked on the girl and found the prince holding her in bed.She’d pretended it didn’t matter, because the Crown Prince was notorious where women were involved, but … it hadn’t stopped the sinking ache in her chest. Then things had changed, and when the gi
Matida backed away, knowing exactly how many steps it would take to get into the hall, but slammed into a hard, unyielding body just as the door shut behind them. Her hands were shaking so badly she didn’t bother going for her weapons—or Leonard ’s. He’d cut her down the instant Maeve gave the order.The blood rushed from Matida ’s head. She forced herself to take a breath. And another. Then she said in a too-quiet voice, “Aelin Galathynius is dead.” Just speaking her name aloud—the damned name she had dreaded and hated and tried to forget …Maeve smiled, revealing sharp little canines. “Let us not bother with lies.”It wasn’t a lie. That girl, that princess had died in a river a decade ago.Matida was no more Aelin Galathynius than she was any other person.The room was too hot—too small, Leonard a brooding force of nature behind her.She was not to have time to gather herself, to make up excuses and half truths, as she should have been doing these past few days instead of free-fa
A snort from behind, but she didn’t dare take her eyes off Maeve.“And your other talents?” Maeve’s nostrils flared—scenting. “What has become of them?”“Like everyone else on my continent, I haven’t been able to access them.”Maeve’s eyes twinkled, and Matida knew—knew that Maeve could smell the half truth. “You are not on your continent anymore,” Maeve purred.Run. Every instinct roared with the word. She had a feeling that the Eye of Elena would have been no use, but she wished she had it anyway. Wished the dead queen were here, for that matter. Leonard was still at the door—but if she was fast, if she outsmarted him …A flash of memory blinded her, bright and uncontrollable, unleashed by the instinct begging her to flee. Her mother had rarely let Mob group into their home, even with her heritage. A few trusted ones were allowed to live with them, but any Mob group visitors had been closely monitored, and for the duration of their stay, Matida had been sequestered in the famil
“Prince Leonard shall explain the specifics. For now, he will escort you to your chamber to rest.”Matida looked Maeve straight in her death-dealing eyes. “You swear you’ll tell me what I need to know?”“I do not break my promises. And I have the feeling that you are unlike your mother in that regard, too.”Bitch. Bitch, she wanted to hiss. But then Maeve’s eyes flicked to Matida ’s right palm. She knew everything. Through whatever spies or power or guesswork, Maeve knew everything about her and the vow to Nehemia.“To what end?” Matida asked softly, the anger and the fear dragging her down into an inescapable exhaustion. “You want me to train only so I can make a spectacle of my talents?”Maeve ran a moon-white finger down the owl’s head. “I wish you to become who you were born to be. To become queen.”<
He was now a few feet away, arms crossed. She spat blood and swore. He smirked. It was enough to send her hurtling for him again, to tackle or pummel or strangle him, she didn’t know.She caught his feint left, but when she dove right, he moved so swiftly that despite her lifetime of training, she crashed into a darkened brazier behind him. The clatter echoed through the too-quiet hall as she landed face-first on the stone floor, her teeth singing.“Like I said,” Leonard sneered down at her, “you have a lot to learn. About everything.”Her lip already aching and swollen, she told him exactly what he could go do to himself.He sauntered down the hall. “Next time you say anything like that,” he said without looking over his shoulder, “I’ll have you chopping wood for a month.”Fuming, hatred and shame already burning her face, Matida got to her feet. He dumped her in a very small, v
After a grueling day of training new recruits, avoiding Dorian, and keeping well away from the king’s watchful eye, Bolton was almost at his rooms, more than ready to sleep, when he noticed that two of his men were missing from their posts outside the Great Hall. The two remaining men winced as he stopped dead.It wasn’t unusual for guards to occasionally miss a shift. If someone was sick, if they had some family tragedy, Bolton always found a replacement. But two missing guards, with no replacement in sight … “Someone had better start talking,” he ground out.One of them cleared their throats—a newer guard, who had just finished his training three months before. The other one was relatively new, too, which was why he’d assigned them to night duty outside the empty Great Hall. But he’d put them under the supposedly responsible and watchful eyes of the two other guards, both of whom had been there for years.