Page 24 of Kingdom of Crowns and Daggers

Every man in this room watches Alyx like she is an angel they want to corrupt. If only they knew the devil that hid behind those fluttering eyelashes.

“Joha, answer me.” Pain flashes through my arm as a hand grips me tightly. Jerking my head around, I meet Queen Mother’s fuming eyes.

“Queen Mother,” Orion snaps in warning, glancing pointedly at her nails digging into my skin, his body seeming to grow even larger as he begins to move towards her.

I hold my hand up, and he instantly stops moving despite me not having said a word. I’m sure she’s cut into my skin, but the pain helps remind me why we’re here.

“You wanted to know why this meeting was being held,” I comment quietly, making it seem as though I’m attempting to keep this from being overheard.

She seems suspicious at my sudden cooperation, her eyes narrowing. “Yes.”

Nodding, I flash her a smile. “Well, you are getting your wish.” Using my free hand, I pry each of her fingers from my arm and slowly get to my feet. “She is to be my betrothed.”

Horror flashes across her perfect face, and I overhear several of my advisors squawking with outrage, but there is nothing they can do to stop me now. I am already on my feet and addressing my people.

They seem to be caught between looking at me, their king, while also trying to watch the mysterious woman moving through their ranks. However, she has now reached the base of the dais my throne sits on. Smiling widely, I clap my hands together before gesturing towards Alyx as I offer her my hand to help her up the steps. She lays her palm in mine, and the rough skin makes me smile, reminding me she is just as lethal at wielding a sword as she is wearing a dress. She stands tall at my side, her hand in mine, as I smile at the now gawking crowd. When my voice comes, it rings out clear and proud . . . and maybe a little smug.

After all, I have a queen at my side.

One of the most lethal women in all our kingdom.

“Lords and ladies, I invite you to welcome my betrothed, Lady Alyx.”

Chapter

Fourteen

ALYX

I’ll hand it to the king—he knows how to get the room’s attention.

I don’t just mean the elaborate robe and headdress he wears, nor the throne he was perched on.

My entrance worked just as I planned it, my timing impeccable. The throne room is in the centre of the palace and has a large stretch of open space on either side. Thanks to the early hour, I was able to time the opening of the doors just as the sun rose over the top of the palace walls, gleaming down on me. I am here to play the game, after all, and nobody plays as well as I do.

Angelic. Mysterious. Beautiful.

Those were the words I heard whispered as I slowly made my way through the hall, and it makes me smile. Do I flourish under their praise? Yes. Am I vain? Also yes, but I own it, knowing my pride is one of my downfalls.

Keeping my head up, I ensure my steps are small and measured. Don’t slouch, head up, glide like a butterfly—the words chime through my mind, triggering a feeling in my chest that is familiar. A frown tries to mar my brow, so I focus on keeping my face smooth with a small, almost shy smile on my lips. Keep them guessing, keep them wondering, the same voice reminds me. All that training is coming in handy now, even though I despised it at the time. Every now and again, I flick my eyes up and look at the king demurely through my lashes. The expression on his face fills me with a feeling that surprises me. He’s either a very good actor or he can’t believe my transformation. When I look up at the brute of a guard dog who hovers around him, I’m also struck by his shock.

Typical. I wear a pretty dress and put my hair up and the males lose their senses. All men are the same.

Except, that doesn’t ring true, not anymore. Shoving those thoughts deep down, I focus on why I’m here. I don’t have time to get caught up in thoughts like that because it will only get me killed. No, I’m here for my revenge and to get paid.

It took me hours to get ready, and I had to sacrifice sleep to make sure everything was perfect. There’s a dressmaker in the city who owes me a life debt after I saved her from some rogue bandits. She couldn’t pay me in coins, so she creates clothes for me when I need them. I knew she would be awake, and she has several gowns in stock that are my size for emergencies such as this. When my eyes locked on the floaty cream dress, I knew that was the one I needed. It was regal yet slightly different from the stiff style the court ladies currently wear and fitted the image I want to portray perfectly. The only thing it needed was something to link it to Joha while still keeping it feminine. Embroidered flowers were already part of the dress; we just added the purple to the petals. It took her and three of her assistants to finish in time.

I kept out of sight, the lower part of my face covered and my hood up so if they did spot me, they wouldn’t recognise me. Thankfully, they were too busy working, and I had to pop out to pick up several other items to make my grand entrance perfect. Once I returned to the shop and had the dress, I raced back to the palace and made it to the concubine’s room in record time. Long ago, I’d been taught how to care for and present my hair properly, and as I sat in front of the mirror and wove pearls amongst the ginger strands, I could almost feel the soft touch of the one who instructed me.

I creamed, painted, tucked, pinned, and slicked, so I drink in their looks, knowing it was all worth it.

The lords quickly move out of my path, seeming to know that I’m walking to the front, their expressions confused yet appreciative. I doubt that will last for long. Does it make me a bad person that I can’t wait for their outrage once they hear why I’m here? Probably, but I’m an assassin, the villain of most peoples’ stories.

I’m almost at the dais where the king and his advisors stand when my eyes lock on an elegant older woman. She can’t be that much older than Joha, but the way she carries herself gives away her position. She watches me with horror, her gaze shifting between Joha and me.

Her formal gown almost matches Joha’s, and I have no doubt that was on purpose. She is beautiful, if ageing despite the ways she tries to hide it. From the gossip mill, I know she married young, and it is clear from the jealousy in her eyes that she is used to being the centre of attention, wielding her beauty like a weapon—one I have now stolen.

The Queen Mother is the one behind all the assassination attempts and wants to rule. I just do not know how far the rot spreads. Someone in the Lowers once told me that when a house’s wood begins to rot and break, the only thing you can do is tear the whole structure down. That is exactly what I will do. I will burn the palace to the ground, and Joha can remake it in his image. The archaic rule about women not taking the throne is absurd, but in this case, I believe it’s a blessing. Having someone as power hungry as her in command would only end in disaster. We all noticed the difference in the state of the city when the old king died, and it wasn’t changed for the better. If Joha was telling the truth and this is all Queen Mother’s doing, then we would be better off without her.

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