Page 144 of The Crown's Shadow


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Terin tapped his foot on the floor as he looked out the window. In the distance, the spires of the Frenzian castle could be seen piercing the clouds in the sky. Somewhere inside was Kalisandre.

Terin looked back at him, the muscles in his jaw ticking. “Fine,” he spat.

“Tell me why you cannot reach her.”

Terin ran his fingers through his hair. Since they had been traveling, his hair had gotten even longer. A thick beard now covered his jawline. He was looking more and more like his brother every day. But the exhaustion he wore like a weapon, the unruliness of his hair made him look wild, untamed. It did not make him look like the future king of Pontia.

“I’m not sure exactly,” he said. “It’s like something is blocking me out. I’ve never had this happen before unless the person is—”

The god growled.

Terin cleared his throat, and his gaze fell to the floor as he began to pace around the bedroom. “I can feel her presence, but it’s like the door has been locked, and I no longer have the key.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know,” Terin stopped pacing, his brown eyes stricken with fear when he met the god’s gaze. “But whatever it is, it’s not good, Gray.”

Chapter54

GRAESON

For two days,Graeson had been locked inside his mind.

For two days, he had watched from the small window and banged at the door. He shouted. He screamed. Yet the god did not let him out. Graeson knew that the god could hear him and that his thoughts were still impacting the god’s actions, yet he remained caged.

The only thing keeping him sane was that Graeson knew the god would not do anything to harm Kalisandre. As much as Graeson despised the monster within him, their goals did align.

While the others acted as staff members or guests, the god elected to be one of the guards. And now Graeson was not only forced to watch through the small window inside his cage but also through the tiny slits in the stolen helmet. But despite his distorted vision, Graeson couldn’t help but smile when the god seethed with anger as his breath smacked him in the face, bouncing off the metal helmet.

Serves you right, you arrogant bastard.

I can hear you, the god retorted.

Good.

The god snarled back.

In front of the line of soldiers, Sebastian stood beside the general of the Frenzian army, surveying them.

Two nights ago, Graeson was only half aware of what was happening around him when he was first locked away. Now, the memory returned in flashes as if Esmeray was showing him bits and pieces of the night.

He recalled the way Sebastian’s hand crawled over the fabric of Kalisandre’s shirt, the moment terror flooded her ocean-blue eyes as she was gagged and choked.

Then he remembered nothing, nothing but a red-hot fury.

Graeson couldn’t shake the rage building within him. He couldn’t hide behind it. He couldn’t smother it. Not in the confinements of this cell. It spilled from him.

And for the first time, Graeson was thankful that he was trapped inside his mind. Because if he weren’t, he would not be able to promise that the king’s brother would go unscathed. Sebastian was the one who had come to Ardentol asking for Kalisandre’s hand on behalf of his brother, the one who had come to Pontia and killed Fynn. And Graeson wanted to cut off the man’s head right where he stood.

In due time, human,the god whispered.

* * *

Beneath the helmet,the god’s lip curled as the general beside the smug prince shouted commands and instructions for the ceremony.

The Frenzian man would not die, not yet. The god was too close to achieving everything he desired. Too close to getting what he had come here for. By the end of the day, Kalisandre would be his, and destruction would fall upon Frenzia. As it always should have been.

He would not ruin that now, not because of this mortal before him.

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