Page 102 of Crownless King

Moving behind the long line of people, I entered the room and headed toward the throne. My chest ached, and I wasn’t sure whether it was the mating mark or my heart or both. I kept my eyes down, drawing air in and out in small, carefully measured breaths. I could do this. I’d spoken to Voron just fine before, wearing the exact same disguise as I was now. Of course, I’d also nearly fallen to his feet then, almost revealing to him who I was.

I had to muster more control this time.

Voron sat on his throne, wearing a long, light-gray coat and a snow-white cape painted with faint rainbow swirls along the edge. The cape cascaded down the stairs of the throne dais, draping over it like feather-light spring clouds.

The golden spikes of his crown glistened and sparkled brighter than the crystals in the walls around us. But his expression under the crown remained as dark as ever.

The ceiling of the room was wide open, with the vines framing the gray sky above. The chilly wind reached inside, but there were so many people packed into the enormous Throne Room, I didn’t feel the cold.

I kept staring at the king, unable to tear my eyes off him as the line in front of me grew shorter.

“What do you have there?” a courtier in charge of the royal presents asked thetaureanman right in front of me, yanking my mind away from Voron.

Thetaureanhad reached the throne dais. He stretched out his arms with a length of silk draped over them. The fabric was so fine it looked like a spider web with sparkling dewdrops clinging to it.

“A veil, my lord. My daughter embroidered it with the crystalized raindrops she had collected in the forest around our farm.”

“Nice.” The courtier carefully lifted the end of the veil and passed it to a guard by the throne, who then held it up for Voron to touch and admire.

“It’s beautiful.” Voron inclined his head. “Your daughter’s hands weave magic.”

Thetaurean’swide mouth spread in a pleased smile. “Thank you, Your Majesty. May the gods favor you with light and happiness.”

“What do you want for your gift? Gems or a favor?”

“Gems.”

The gorgeous silk veil was put away promptly. The treasurer poured the gems into thetaurean’slarge hand, and the man was on his way.

My turn was next.

“Here.” I handed the courtier the jar with the serpent. Remembering the earlier skepticism of the people in line, I explained not waiting for his questions, “It’s a giant serpent from the Wetlands of—”

The courtier snorted a laugh, interrupting me. “It doesn’t look thatgiant, good woman.”

My nerves must have gotten the best of me. Because instead of defending my tiny serpent once again, I laughed with a shrug.

“He doesn’t, does he? He must be a grower, not a shower.”

The courtier burst out laughing. The guard on the stairs of the dais snickered into his sleeve, torn between laughing out loud and showing some respect to the king who was sitting so close.

I darted a glance up at Voron, realizing he’d heard me, too.

He smiled, the crease between his eyebrows smoothing out. My chest filled with sunshine. I knew I could make him happy, but when was the last time I truly felt happy myself? The answer was simple—when I was with him.

I drew in a shuddering breath, gathering my resolve.

“Give her some gems, Lord Pica,” Voron said to the treasurer. “Both for the gift and for the joke.”

I didn’t need the gems. I had to talk to him.

“Um… A favor, please.” I lifted my hand to get his attention. But his gaze followed the jar that the courtier was putting away with other gifts.

The king’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the worm, looking as if he’d seen it before.

“Where did you get that serpent, good woman?” He turned to me.

The question caught me off guard.

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