Page 2 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

The servant stares up in horror, unable to tear her eyes from the corpse’s face. She’s not close enough to see much detail, but even still, she knows who he is. The dead male, pinned to the wall, is not just any male.

He is—he was—Vorr, High King of all Inatia.

Then, the servant makes a horrible mistake.

She gasps.

The male—no, the murderer—knows she is there. His head snaps to her, the High King’s blood still splattered across his face. His dark cloak shields most of his defining features, but it doesn’t stop his red eyes from glowing like a demon’s in the moonlight.

It’s then the servant knows she’s going to die.

She doesn’t wait for the killer to wipe the blood from his face before she screams.

Chapter One

ONE WEEK LATER—Keuron, Capital of Inatia, at High Keep

Iresist the urge to draw my swords. Alas, they remain sheathed at my hips, one on either side. It’s been too long since I’ve trained, and I’m itching to hear the steel sing with each lunge.

Instead, I stroll up and down the training area, my arms hanging freely at my sides. About forty sweaty trainees—the High King’s Guard’s newest recruits—fill the space in unorganized clumps. Sweat gleams across their brows, along with any other exposed skin, while they spar. All hail from each of the kingdom of Inatia’s five Courts—Gold, Silver, Copper, Bronze, and Steel, my home Court.

The Courts are named for the precious metal they produce. Our lifeblood. The source of our prosperity, our livelihoods, and even the magic we’re blessed to wield. My chest swells with pride. There are just as many females as males, if not more. All those years ago, when I joined the Guard, there were so fewer females taking the oath with me. At the time, I was but one of five female trainees. It’s good to see how many more there are now.

As the Captain of the High King’s Guard, it’s my duty to oversee the training of our newest members. It’s a responsibility that I don’t take lightly. Here, in this room, the trainees will learn essential skills that they’ll rely on in defense of High Keep and the Inatian throne. I think back to my own training, and the lessons my mentor, Ceren Wrenthar, taught me. More than once, her teachings have kept me alive.

The attack one week ago was one of those times.

Anger twists in my abdomen, but I dismiss it with a single thought. Now is not the time.

Passing a sparring pair, I give them a nod of approval. “Good,” I muse, eyeing their form.

The trainees falter when they notice my attention on them.

“Focus,” I remind them. “Maintain your stances.”

They nod to me in acknowledgment, and then return to their match. Across the room from me, Sura Vilsdottyr, one of my most trusted lieutenants, does the same with other trainees. Out of my four lieutenants, Sura is the newest to the Guard. Still, she shows great promise. The moment she walked into this room among the incoming batch of trainees, I saw a spark in her. A strong will that burns like an undying flame. At the time, I was only a lieutenant myself, overseeing the training of the new recruits alongside Ceren, my greatest teacher and predecessor.

When Ceren ultimately decided to step down, she chose me as her successor. Trusting her judgment, High King Vorr appointed me as Captain of the High King’s Guard.

Now, I echo her teachings to a whole new generation of recruits.

I stop next to another pair of trainees. One of them, a light-haired female, furrows her brow with concentration. Tension gathers in her shoulders, the rigidness of her form slowing her movements.

“Relax your muscles,” I instruct, lightly tapping her upper arm. “Stay light on your feet.”

She nods, and then takes a deep breath. Her shoulders visibly loosen, and she shifts her weight between the balls of her feet.

“Better,” I tell her.

She flashes me a quick smile, before directing her attention back to her opponent.

Satisfied, I move past them, and look ahead to the next pair. On the opposite side of the training room, closer to Sura, the set of heavy, wooden doors opens, lightly scratching the stone floors when it does.

I glance that way. When I see who stands in the entry, I immediately bow my head.

In the threshold, stands Cryssa and Viridian Avanos—the High Queen and High King of Inatia.

Too focused on their sparring, it takes the trainees a moment to realize. But when they do, they lower their fists and drop into a bow. Nerves seem to radiate from them. Most, if not all, of the trainees before me haven’t been in the High King’s presence. It makes me recall my first encounter with the former High King—Viridian’s father, High King Vorr—when I’d arrived at High Keep.

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