Chapter 137

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
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