Page 117 of Sworn to the Shadow Throne

Pain exploded up my leg, forcing me to the ground as my muscles refused to hold my weight from the shock of it.

Camrick’s dark hair filled my vision as I rolled to get into a seated position.

“I can’t believe this,” he scoffed. Then, quietly: “You’re trying to get hurt, aren’t you?”

“No.” I scowled, looking up at the heavy gray clouds overhead. “But hearing you say it, that sounds like an excellent plan. Hit me—hard.”

“Your mind truly is fucked.” Cam wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his leather vambrace. Except his eyes kept drifting to the right, toward a brunette servant walking by.

I pitched my voice low. “My general says, distracted by something he shouldn’t be having.”

Anyone directly under our command was off-limits for personal liaisons—he knew that.

“Well aware, princeling.” His expression and tone were flat until a sudden gleam reappeared in his eyes. “I’ll hit you…draw blood, even, if we can agree to forget my wandering eyes.”

“Deal,” I replied, grinning. Just like old times.

Excited chatter from the other side of the training arena interrupted our brilliant plan. The phrase Fae ears made every fine hair on my body rise in sudden, dangerous awareness.

Cam had his practice sword raised to strike when I shot a hand up, forestalling him. Normally, in a situation like this, he would’ve offered a sarcastic jab about my sudden fear, but my face must’ve warned him to hold his tongue. He stepped back as I reached my feet.

“Stop me from killing someone,” I said—and meant it in the most literal sense.

The nauseating fear of hearing something horrible and irreversible happening hit me first. Because it had no outlet, the fear turned into a cold, calculating rage. My Nocthel instincts had already identified the most efficient outcome and were now waiting, patiently, for me to look away so they could act without my permission.

Cam’s eyes widened at my tone, but he was already moving, magic already gathering at his fingertips. He knew me well enough to act without asking questions.

“Not all of us can hear like you.” He muttered, “One second you’re asking me to bash your skull in. The next, we’re doing whatever the fuck this is.”

“You’re a good friend,” I replied softly.

“Yeah, no shit,” he mumbled.

I sped up as we crossed the arena. The Assembly had informants in spots considerably more discreet than a royal training yard. So, if this news had already reached the soldiers, it had already left the keep walls. The mere thought made the ground beneath my feet feel uncertain. I had to stop all rumors about her here and now.

The four men in question stood near the weapons rack, padded practice helms tucked beneath their arms. Seeing their unlined, almost innocent faces encouraged the agitated energy building inside me to subside somewhat.

The air crackled with tension the moment they sensed my approach. I stopped a pace away and tried not to look too imposing. The unified snap to attention was so quick that the sound of leather on leather cracked through the entire arena.

“Prince Regent,” the eldest said.

My conscious mind knew that my current reaction was overblown. Yet instinct demanded I find the source of the threat and tear it out by the root—violently. My heart was racing so fast that the world seemed to vibrate before my eyes. The thought of the Assembly coming for her rang inside my skull as if the bond itself had seized my mind and refused to let it go.

Accepting the violence in my blood might be the best first step toward shedding the heavy expectations of the man I thought I was before meeting Luna. So I indulged in the thought of throwing each man against the wall like I wanted to but only folded my hands behind my back and relaxed my shoulders.

“At ease,” I said evenly.

They relaxed by a hair’s breadth. Not a single one moved their eyes from a point somewhere over my shoulder.

“I couldn’t help but overhear part of your discussion,” I said, my tone clipped and professional. “Something about Fae.”

Four throats bobbed in unison. The youngest decided to be brave. “Yes, Your Highness.”

I purposefully let the silence stretch. Not speaking was its own kind of pressure—the considerate type that made a person squirm without threats.

They exchanged a look before the eldest finally broke down. “There was a rumor circulating during the soldiers’ breakfast, sir. Regarding the healer summoned for His Majesty.”

“Clarify.”