AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Was it true?” I asked instead, searching Ember’s tearstained face for any glimpse of the monster. “Was any of your story true?”
“Of course, it was.” She whispered, scrubbing tears from her now-pale face, her dark gray eyes searching mine. “The king went into a rage when he realized his magic was gone. The entire palace was in an uproar and Solok was sent to hunt you down. I was able to slip away from the palace guard and from there, I made my way toward Blackcastle. You told me that’s where the Shadow King was and I hoped that’s where I’d find you.”
Lies. Every word a lie.
“When you first arrived,” I chose my words so, so carefully. “You said you’d escaped Solok on the field and walked to the ward.” I held my breath, willing her to tell me the truth.
“Did I say that?” She brushed a hand over her face. “I hardly even remember; I’d been walking for days.” Her eyes flashed black, then gray. “Don’t look so…suspicious, Anaria. I knew I had to pass that test with flying colors, if I wanted to remain here.”
“The flirting, the way you acted with Crux…that was all an act?”
“Of course, it was…what did you think I was doing?” She blushed, looking down at the dress. “I pretended to be the duchess and spoke like Crux was one of us servants who’d made a mistake. I wasn’t sure my act would work, but I think they bought it.”
If I hadn’t seen what happened with Crux with my own eyes, I would have believed this was my old friend and every word coming out of her mouth was true.
But everything was a lie and I had to exorcise the Reaper, before it was too late.
* * *
“I’m hereto see Commander Vayle.”
If the guards were surprised to see the princess at the door to Zorander’s barracks in the middle of the night, they did not show it. Of course, judging from the number of scars all over them, they’d seen their fill of terrible things, and I did not rank high enough on that list to matter.
“We’ll fetch him, your Grace.”
The left me cooling my heels in the small front office, one side piled with discarded armor, the other filled by an enormous table covered in maps. A painting of the Shadow King—a few centuries old—hung crooked on one wall, as if it had been bumped so many times, they’d stopped fixing it.
My false father had been handsome once, but his face had lost none of its cruelty or its arrogance. I could hardly believe he was a thousand years old, and spent all that time locked in an endless war with his brother.
Which seemed pointless, when you thought about it.
“Princess?” For a moment, I just stared. I’d never seen Zor without his armor before. His shirt was thin enough to show off every muscle, every ridge of his sculpted chest and powerful arms. I jerked my eyes up to his face, reciting the speech I’d practiced a hundred times on my walk down here.
“I apologize for the late hour, commander. But my father had some concerns regarding my lessons. He asked me to clear them up, personally.”
“Come.” He spun on his heel, his wide shoulders filling up the narrow hall as I trailed behind, debating the wisdom of coming here. But the Reaper was a threat and Ember was my friend and I couldn’t do this alone.
He kept going until we reached the end of the hall, went through the door that emptied into an open area behind the building. From the discarded weapons and straw dummies, I expected this was their training area. Beyond us stretched endless rows of barracks, the flickering of fires, the low hum of male voices.
“There are eyes watching and ears listening.” He warned beneath his breath as he turned, putting that spectacular body on display. “But this is as isolated as I dare get with the king’s daughter.”
“Understood.” I walked over, picked up a bent sword, the edge dulled from a thousand blows. “How can I save my friend?” I asked quietly, swinging the sword against the side of the dummy with a dull thwack. The impact reverberated up through my arms, enough to make my teeth rattle and Zor shook his head.
“She can’t be. You already know this, Anaria. Better we use her to plant false information to weaken Solok’s defenses. It’s either that or…” He took one look at my face and stopped. “She’s a threat to all of us.”
“I refuse to accept that, Zor. What if this was Raz? Would you give up so easily?” I took another swing and the sword flew out of my hands. Zor shook his head and picked it up, drawing graceful figure eights in the air, the blade a blur of silver.
“It’s not Raz, and I don’t have to make that decision.” He swung again, pivoting on his feet so fast chunks of grass flew beneath his pivoting boots.
I tried not to stare at the way his chest flexed powerfully with every swing, how his arms bulged, but I couldn’t help myself. Gods, he was beautiful. Deadly and beautiful and utterly unattainable, and a flicker of anger went through me at whoever ruined him.
Then he tossed the sword. The blade spun past, barely missing me and imbedded into the center of the dummy, so deeply the point punched out the other side before my hair stopped moving.
“Was that necessary?”
“It’s my job to keep you alive. To keep all of us alive, Anaria.” He kept his voice down as he drew even with me and yanked the sword out. “Your friend is gone.” He hesitated, then handed the sword back. “Grip it with both hands, spread your feet so your weight is balanced on your heels.”
He picked up another sword, short and sharp, and assumed the same position. “I heard what happened with Crux today.” I blanched, then re-firmed my grip. “After her…display, I think the bastard’s half in love with her. It’s part of the Reaper’s magic. As they consume their host’s soul, they become stronger, healthier. Bolder.”
