Page 109 of Kingdom of Crowns and Daggers

The king snorts. “I am sure you have been in every room in this building and don’t need me to show you around.”

He’s right, I have the entire place mapped out in my mind thanks to a few reconnaissance trips. “Maybe the place will look different with the lights on.”

His mouth drops open, and he shakes his head as though he can’t believe I just admitted to searching his palace. I’m not sure why this seems to come as such a shock to him when he already guessed this was the case. I was not about to let Alyx in here without checking the layout of every building on the grounds.

I have never quite understood why the two separate residences for the king and queen were named palaces. I always assumed the larger, more ornate buildings where the court meets and business happens were the palace. From what I have gathered while I have been here, all of the individual buildings make up “the palace,” while the king’s and queen’s palaces are where they can conduct their own business should they want to.

“I really need to get the guards trained better,” Joha mutters to himself, shaking his head. “Assassins just keep wandering in like I left the front gates open.”

What doesn’t help is that he has a huge target on his back and someone with a grudge. If we find the person arranging the attacks, then hopefully fewer assassins will have a reason to enter the palace grounds. However, if he thinks that training his guards will keep assassins away, then he will be sorely disappointed. Assassins are trained for exactly this type of thing, and those who fail die.

Leaning against the doorframe, I cross my arms over my chest as I wait for him to join me. “You will never be able to keep the best of us out,” I chime in, breaking through his mutterings. “Sorry.”

Sighing, he covers his face with his hands and takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes again, the panic seems to have faded, and he meets my gaze. “Okay, let’s go. I need to get out of this room for a while.”

The dining hall in the king’s palace is beautiful and has been kept in immaculate condition, but it is clear it has not been used in years, like most of this place.

“You have all of this space, yet you never use it,” I observe, trying to keep the judgement from my voice.

So far, the only rooms that appear to see any use are the bedchamber, adjoining bathroom, and a small study. The music room has a beautiful piano positioned in front of a large window overlooking the wildflowers in the back, the snowcapped mountains in the background. A look of sadness passed across his features when he looked at it, and he quickly led me onwards.

He has all of this unused space and luxury, when children and vulnerable families are dying in the slums. You can barely move in the worst parts of the slums, the habitats so close together, the paper-thin walls only offer the pretence of privacy. They certainly don’t provide any warmth.

Joha’s expression shifts. “That will be different once we are married. My queen will move in, and more of the rooms will be in use then, hosting dinner parties, caring for our children . . .”

He slows to a stop as he realises what he said and that I am no longer at his side. He turns, his expression tentative as he waits for the backlash of his words, yet there is no apology in his eyes.

Alyx. He’s talking about Alyx—married, moving in, and having children.

I’ve frozen in place, the walls of the huge hall suddenly feeling too small, as though they are closing in on me. They constrict around me, my body motionless but begging to be released, to jump into action and do something, anything, to ease the pain his words cause within me.

“What is the plan once we stop the person behind the attacks?” I snap, needing to know the answer. Why didn’t I ever ask this before? I was so confident in my relationship with Alyx that I didn’t think it was even a possibility that we wouldn’t end up together.

“What do you mean?” Joha takes a tentative step towards me.

Frustrated, I growl low in my throat. “When does this end?” I snap. “Alyx isn’t going to pretend to be a princess forever. Someone will eventually work out the truth. When do I get my Alyx back?”

“Crux, I love her, and I’m pretty sure she loves me too.” Although he looks uncomfortable, he shows no signs of backing down.

Although the words strike a bolt of pain through me, I can’t deny that there is truth to what he says. “Okay, yeah, fine, whatever, but you would see her as a concubine, right?” I ask, needing the answer. “You can’t possibly think you can actually marry her and make her your queen.”

Frowning, he pulls back slightly, pursing his lips. I’ve offended him with my question. Good, he needs to think about this carefully. Glancing away, he pretends to look out of the hall window, no longer able to meet my eyes. “Once we are married, it will be too late, and no one will care about her background.”

Snorting, I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m pretty sure someone will have something to say about the fact that your queen is an assassin.”

Does he really think he can get away with this plan? If his council doesn’t have trust in him now, then they will have a fit once they discover who Alyx really is.

Throwing his hands up in the air, he spins around to stare at me. “I thought we spoke about this. None of us are giving up on her, so why is this such a shock to you?”

“Because she is mine and you are going to take her away from me!” The anger I have been keeping a tight lid on until now bursts out. “I don’t have titles or crowns to give her like you do!”

“She is not just yours anymore. She?—”

I don’t know what he’s about to say next, but a flash of movement in the corner of the dining hall catches my eye. I just notice as a figure dressed in dark clothing lifts a bow, the quiet telltale twang of the string being released my only warning.

I fall into assassin mode, grabbing the king by the shoulders and throwing him to the ground, narrowly avoiding the arrow that was aimed at his chest. Unfortunately for me, the movement throws me forward, and I twist just in time to avoid being impaled. The arrow catches my cheek instead, grazing the skin, but the burning pain is barely noticeable as adrenaline pumps through my body.

Notching another arrow, the assassin aims at the king, his obvious target, but I’m already racing towards the figure. The arrow fires just as I leap forward, and I have to pray that it missed Joha, my full attention on the assassin.

---