Page 51 of Crownless King

We entered through the castle gates and stopped. Alcon made a wide circle around the carriage before landing at my window.

“Stay inside, my lady.” He sounded tense. His sword drawn, he scanned the skies above.

A battle was raging over our heads. Instead of the clouds, people and wings obstructed the sun this morning. Clanking of weapons, cries of pain, and swishing of wings filled the air.

With a thud, a body dropped from the sky onto the road. Blood splattered the pavement stones. I watched in horror as a twister of speckled brown feathers settled around the dead guard, his wings of the same color twisted and broken under him.

I clutched the book of records to my chest, the book that started it all. Actually,Istarted all this bloodshed by finding and reading the damn book.

Voron ran from around the palace. He caught sight of me in the window of the carriage and rushed to me.

Dressed in armor, with a silver-tone breastplate, bejeweled pauldrons, and wide arm bracers, he looked both magnificent and fierce. His sleeve was slashed, the arm underneath scratched. Blood was dripping from the sword in his hand. His eyes glistened, his cheeks flushed.

“Kiss me for good luck.” He gripped the back of my neck, pulling me to him for a hot, messy kiss.

His fervent excitement seeped into me. I rooted for him with all my heart. I wished for him to succeed.

“Go, Voron. Get what you want,” I urged when he broke the kiss.

He flashed me a grin, taking off toward the palace doors. At least a dozen guards homed in on him from above. But once Voron had crossed the threshold into the palace, they were forced to land and fold their wings to follow him. Inside the first few floors of the palace with the low ceilings and narrow stairs of the servants’ quarters, wings gave the guards no advantage over Voron. He knew it, choosing to climb the stairs to get up to the royal chambers.

With my focus on the palace doors, I didn’t see the guard sneaking around my carriage until it was too late. He yanked my door open.

“And what do we have here?” he sneered, reaching inside the carriage for me.

Struck by horror, I gulped in air.

“How about a very important book?” I blurted out. “Here, take it!”

I shoved it into his outstretched hands. The explosion of light blinded me. But I didn’t feel the impact that tossed the fae to the ground. Howling in pain, he rolled on the cobblestones.

Like an angel of vengeance, Alcon descended from the sky, his sword pointing downwards. He speared the guard, pinning him to the ground, then gestured to me.

“Time to go, my lady. You’re needed.”

Still shaking with adrenaline, I climbed out of the carriage, pressing the book to my chest. Alcon eyed it suspiciously.

“Um…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll have to fly you up there.”

“Right.” I shifted the book to my side, holding it under my arm. “Just make sure not to touch it, and we’ll be fine.”

Alcon stepped around me gingerly, as if walking on shards of crystal. Holding me with one arm around my shoulders and another one under my knees, he lifted me up and pressed my book-free side to his chest.

“All right.” He hit the air with his large, brown-gray wings, taking us up.

I held my book out, ready to zap anyone who dared getting in the way. But Alcon masterfully maneuvered through the battle in the sky, avoiding a collision. He landed on the patio outside of the king’s rooms and quickly ushered me inside.

Not much had changed in the royal bedroom. The layout and the furniture remained the same—all stark white and glistening gold.

The king lay in his bed behind the light curtains that gently billowed in the breeze. Voron and his men faced a group of courtiers and priests of the various gods of the Sky Kingdom.

I recognized some of the courtiers. All were armed, their weapons lowered at the moment. Tension hung heavily in the room. No one was fighting, but a battle threatened to break out any minute, ending the stand-off.

“Show them, Sparrow,” Voron ordered.

I didn’t need to ask what he meant. Placing the book on the stand at the foot of the royal bed, the very same stand where King Tiane had put my empty glass after tricking me into drinking thecamyte, I opened it to the last page. The scene of Voron’s birth started playing, and I averted my eyes. I’d heard it played many times over by now, but I’d only seen it once. And once had been enough.

My gaze traveled to the king instead. Through the gaps in the swaying curtains, I saw his chest move with his breathing. He appeared to be sleeping peacefully if it weren’t for the dagger sticking out of his chest.

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