Page 175 of The Crown’s Temptation

The guards hit the door before the sound finished leaving me. They flooded in, weapons drawn, and I was already pointing at Avaneer on the floor, the bloodied sword in his hand, his eyes beginning to open with no memory in them of how any of this had come to pass.

"We were talking," I said. My voice shook in exactly the right way. "The King told Avaneer he must take responsibility for me and Avaneer became angry. He said he had waited long enough. He said he wanted to be king himself." I pressed my hand to my throat where the marks were. "He stabbed him. And then he came for me." I grabbed Eravic's arm and clutched it tightly. "He had no choice but to defend me. And look at how he was harmed." I brushed my fingers over Eravic's bare chest, his ripped shirt hanging off it. I felt him still immediately.

The guards stared at Avaneer. At the sword. At Fyris very dead and slumped in the throne with a wound through his chest.

Then one of them pulled a horn from his waist and raised it to his mouth and blew.

The sound tore through the palace like something alive.

"Attack. Prince Avaneer has murdered the king."

The room filled. People poured in from every entrance, guards and advisors and servants and people who had simply been nearby when the horn sounded and had no idea yet what they were running toward. Avaneer was sitting up now, blinking, the sword still in his hand, and I watched him look at it and understand nothing about how it had gotten there and begin to understand everything about what it meant.

I bent over and picked up the goblet that had spilled on the floor before emptying its remnants onto Avaneer's head, then I bent down and whispered.

"I hope you don't mind. Your father won't be on time for dinner."

Eravic's hand closed on my arm.

I looked at him. He nodded once.

We moved.

We made it back to the ship breathless.

"Move," Eravic shouted the moment his boots hit the deck. The crew did not ask questions.

He turned to me.

His hair was disheveled. His shirt was torn, no thanks to me.

He grabbed my shoulders. "That was insane," he said.

"Yes."

"And dangerous."

"Also yes."

"And could have gotten us both killed."

"Possibly."

"And the plan changed approximately four times between the pillar and the throne room."

"Plans are living documents."

"And—" He stopped.

I took a step toward him. "And what?"

He looked at me.

"Absolutely fucking brilliant," he said, lifting me in the air before setting me down. "Not bad for a lad."

I laughed as he set me down, then grabbed his arm as I felt the deck shift beneath me. Or perhaps that was me shifting. I could not entirely tell. The tincture Elsan had given me had carried me further than I expected, and now the carrying was done and the debt was arriving all at once.

His arm caught me before I reached the conclusion of that thought.