Page 101 of Kingdom of Crowns and Daggers

“I know Queen Mother ordered the hit. Just admit it,” I coax, only my voice is tighter than it was before, taking away the facade that I am calm and collected.

“No,” he snarls, and I know I am not going to get anything out of him like this.

I grab his hand, and we play a brief game of tug-of-war as he desperately tries to pull it back. I am stronger, though, and he is injured. Pinning his hand down on the dirty cell floor, I remove one of the needles, turning it around so he can see it. It’s such a tiny object that is about to cause so much pain.

Just as I am moving to put the needle in his finger, he darts forward far faster than I thought he was capable of. He uses his free hand to grab the dagger strapped to my thigh, accessed through a slit in my pocket.

He must have spotted it earlier when I removed my sewing purse, the slit at the perfect angle for him to reach in and grab it. Cursing, I jump back, ready to defend myself, only he turns it on himself, slashing the blade across his neck.

A wave of blood bursts from the wound. Cursing, I step back, trying to avoid getting any of it on my dress, but unfortunately, it’s too late. His body wobbles and then falls back as he dies in a puddle of his own blood.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He was the last lead we had, and now he’s dead. I understand why he took his own life—no assassin worth his name would have given up the information. If only it was not so inconvenient for me. With a sigh, I press a hand to my forehead, realising that I probably seem selfish, but I do not regret it because the assassin was a risk to Joha, and I would do almost anything to keep him safe.

Orion strides down the corridor of bars, obviously drawn in by the noise. “What happened? Are you—ah fuck,” he grumbles as he takes in the dead body at my feet.

Those were my exact same thoughts.

He stares at the unmoving figure and the pool of blood before turning to me. I’m expecting a scowl, since he probably thinks I killed the male, but I’m surprised to see concern for me in his expression.

“Shit.” Blowing out a long breath, he nods to himself as he comes up with a plan. “Okay, we need to get you cleaned up and out of here before someone sees you.”

He’s right. If someone were to see me walking around covered in blood and then discover that one of the prisoners is dead, it would cause Joha and me problems.

With alarming speed, Orion manages to find me some simple but clean clothes and hurriedly escorts me back to the queen’s palace. Thankfully, there is an exit at the back of the cell block, and that means we can leave without the guards seeing me in my bloodied state. Once we are back in my rooms and he checks I’m okay, he makes sure I’m not going anywhere then returns to the cells to clean up.

The assassin killed himself, and the position he died in will be evidence enough for that. Orion already told me he’s going to say the knife was his and the prisoner grabbed it through the bars after I already left. I don’t like it, but I admit it will be easier for him to talk himself out of it if anyone starts to question anything.

Exhausted, I move through my bedroom like a zombie, crawling back into bed and cursing my body for making me weak. While I feel a little stronger every day, I guess I’m still not back to full strength, and I pushed myself too far tonight.

I’m asleep within minutes, still sitting upright, the lights left on. My dreams that night are filled with the smug expression of the assassin as he slit his throat, taking his knowledge to the grave.

Chapter

Fifty-Five

ORION

Alyx is still annoyed the assassin managed to kill himself before she got anything from him. It’s a testament to how sick she must have been that she didn’t notice him grabbing the blade. It was a mistake, one she never would have made before. It worries me, and it seems finally declaring my feelings has unleashed a torrent I didn’t know existed before.

I cannot sleep, can barely eat or think if it’s not about her. I stalk her day and night, even when I should be protecting the king. Nothing has ever gotten between me and my duty before, yet she has, and she is totally oblivious as she angrily stabs the meat on her plate, eating under our watchful gazes.

Maybe that is why I find myself scouting the palace and kingdom for leads that night, trying to find anything to give her purpose and see that slightly manic smile curl her lips. I just cannot see her so dejected; it makes my heart hurt. I left her in Crux’s care, who was curled around her, fast asleep, when I left, something that sent irrational jealousy through me. I cannot touch her like that.

Maybe I will never be able to. She kissed me once, but she has made no such move since. It’s clear she doesn’t want me like she wants my king or even the assassin, and I have resigned myself to that. I know I am large and scarred, not pretty like them, and I have nothing to offer her—no name, family, or wealth, just my duty, which I live by. No, I will love her silently. I might finally understand these troubling feelings, but I will not impose them on her. She has enough going on without me declaring my intentions and her worrying about rejecting me. She needs me, she needs us all, and before this is through, she will need my sword. I will give her that, and if it’s all she can accept from me, then I will die a happy man.

I never even knew I would find love, so to find it with her is a dream, one I know will be stolen away when she leaves once more. She belongs to the kingdom, to the Lowers, and I belong to the palace and the king. We are ill-fated, so I will make the most of every stolen moment from now until then.

I understand why Crux did what he did to stay at her side. I’m starting to realise I would do just about anything she asked of me just to stay near her. I know what I’m capable of deep down, the darkness I hide from my king. I am a warrior for a reason. I am good at killing, but it is more than that.

I relish killing.

The power of it, the blood on my hands from protecting my family . . . it’s a high I have never found elsewhere, which is probably why I hated Alyx so much upon her crashing entry into our world. She represents everything I try to hide—my desires, anger, and arrogance. She is unapologetic in her skills and taking of lives, while I hide, working hard to remain calm and in control at all times. She is a wildfire of emotions, ones that have lived inside me since birth.

Fire and ice, yet I seem to be melting for her, and I worry what will be left.

Will I still have my careful control? Will she have stolen it all? It’s too late to fight it now either way, so I focus on the man on his knees before me. My sword is pressed to his bobbing Adam’s apple, a bead of blood running down his pale, clammy skin.

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