Matilda turned to Pane. But instead of handing her the plain-as-porridge sword she usually wielded in practice, he drew his own blade. The eagle-shaped pommel glinted in the midday sun. “Here,” he said.She blinked at the blade, and slowly raised her face to look at him. She found the rolling earthen hills of the north in his eyes. It was a sense of loyalty to his country that went beyond the man seated at the table. Far inside of her, she found a golden chain that bound them together.“Take it,” he said.Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She lifted a hand to grab the blade, but someone touched her elbow.“If I may,” Nehemia said in Eyllwe, “I’d like to offer this to you instead.” The princess held out her beautifully carved iron-tipped staff. Matilda glanced between Pane’s sword and her friend’s weapon. The sword, obviously, was the wiser choice—and for Pane to offer his own weapon made her feel strangely lightheaded—but the staff . . .Nehemia leaned in to whisper in Matilda’s ea
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
All through the night, Matilda managed to plaster a smile on her face, unable to express her feelings to Herbert, who had also been putting up quite a show since Ryan Porter's insinuation. His entire presence suffocated her, particularly because he became clingy for the rest of the night, showing her off as his girlfriend to every other important person in the meeting. More than his presence, she hated herself for agreeing to his madness, and as crazy as it sounded, she'd rather not have another woman be introduced as his woman, as she felt perfect with him. She was crazy, there was no explanation for the mixed feelings she was having. On one hand, she couldn't wait to be alone with Herbert to give him a piece of her mind, and on the other, she wanted the night to last as long as she'd remember. A woman such as her didn't get the chance to be shown off as Herbert Park's girlfriend every day, she could as well make the best moment of this. "Miss Sutton, you should join us some other
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
Matilda sprinted through the darkness of the secret passageway, her breathing ragged. She glanced over her shoulder to find Frank grinning at her, his eyes like burning coals.No matter how fast she ran, his stalking gait easily kept him just behind her. After him flowed a wake of glowing green Wyrdmarks, their strange shapes and symbols illuminating the ancient blocks of stone. And behind Frank, its long nails scraping against the ground, lumbered the ridderak.Matilda stumbled, but remained upright. Each step felt like she was wading through mud. She couldn’t escape him. He would catch her eventually. And once the ridderak got hold of her … She didn’t dare glance again at those too-big teeth that jutted out of its mouth or those fathomless eyes, gleaming with the desire to devour her bit by bit.Frank chuckled, the sound grating on the stone walls. He was close now. Close enough that his fingers raked against the nape of her neck. He whispered her name, her true name, and she scream
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
She didn’t know whether he simply didn’t notice, or he didn’t want to say anything, but … “The gardens are rather busy for a winter morning,” she said carefully.He shrugged. “Some people go a little stir-crazy being cooped up inside all winter.”Or they just enjoy the sight of the Captain of the Guard and his muscles.But all she said was, “Right,” and then shut her mouth. No need to point it out if he was that oblivious. Especially when some of the ladies were exceptionally pretty.“Are you going into California to spy on Leonard today?” Benjamin asked softly, when the path was mercifully clear of giggling, blushing girls.She nodded. “I want to get a sense of his schedule, so I’ll probably trail him.” “Why don’t I help you?”“Because I don’t need your help.” She knew he’d probably interpret it as arrogance—and it partially was—but … if he did get involved, then it would complicate things when it came time to smuggle Leonard to safety. That is, after she got the truth out of him—an
“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