Page 6 of The Horde King of Shadow

Across the room, my siblings’ mother caught my eyes. Her chin lifted, brow raising. The gold crown seated on her brow sparkled under the lights as the throne room quieted, eager to hear theDothikkar’s welcoming speech.

This blatant rejection was growing more humiliating every year. I’d thought it would get better. It only ever got worse.

Leave,came the thought that had been surfacing more and more in recent months.Rent the little room we had above the tavern, and live as you please. Or return to the wildlands, where you remember Mother best, where we were happy.

But then I would truly be alone…and that scared me more than anything in this life. At least here, in this cold palace, I had Dannik.

TheLakkari’s serene smirk followed me out of the throne room when I fled, keeping to the outskirts of the room like a rodent, hoping that I drew no one’s eyes but hers.

Unfortunately, I felt the burn ofdozens’as I slipped through the door, the snickering whispers erupting in my wake.

“I knew I’d find you here,” came my brother’s voice, cutting through the hushed, dark chamber.

I raised my head, confused. Then I jolted and wiped my right cheek with the back of my hand, my spine straightening as I smoothed my dress.

“It’s only me,” Dannik said. “You don’t have to do that, Klara.”

I was sitting on a bench across from an unyielding pedestal, one that held a gleaming sword. Dannik was regarding me carefully, and I couldn’t help but frown.

“Have they come?” I asked immediately. “How many are there this time?”

My brother and I looked nothing alike. I looked like my mother—all dark, wavy hair and small features. And Dannik? Well, he looked likehismother. With golden hair and light eyes, his skin warmed and blessed by the sun, with a wide, bold smile that had broken the heart of at least ten different females.

“You spend more time in here than you do in your precious archives,” he grumbled, his booted feet crossing to me, ignoring my questions. “You’d think Arik’s sword would’ve lost its appeal by now.”

“It was Bekkar’s sword first,” I told him. The first great king of Dothik, passed down to my own ancestor. There was a white glowing stone still embedded in its hilt, its energy palpable.Theheartstone. The last one in existence.

“And then Kara gifted it to Arik after the red fog’s defeat,lysi,” Dannik said, impatience threading in his tone, making me bite back a smile. He wasn’t interested in history, in our ancient line, in all the little roots and paths and stories that had brought us here to our present. It didn’t matter. I cared for more than the both of us. “We all know the story. I could recount Bekkar’s campaign trail and the history of the Five in my sleep.”

I turned my gaze back to the sword. The power of the heartstone was warm. It felt like a heartbeat to me. Comforting. Tangible. I could feel the tendrils of power floating over my skin, and if my mother was still alive, maybe I could ask herwhy.

Dannik took a seat on the stone bench next to me. There was an edge to him that I couldn’t quite pinpoint. We were in the bowels of the palace. Once a dungeon, this place had been madenew. It housed a vast collection of our history, of our family’s history, Bekkar’s sword included.

No one had wielded it since King Arik. It burned any who touched it. And yet it remained gleaming throughout the years, not a speck of dust or sign of mottled age marring the metal. The blade was as sharp as it had been in Bekkar’s own hand.

“What does it feel like to you?” Dannik asked suddenly, taking my palm. I frowned, but then he waved his other hand to the sword. “The heartstone.”

I swallowed, my spine snapping. “What?”

“I heard you and your mother speaking once, shortly before she was sent away,” he started, his voice hushed, as if we weren’t alone in this crypt of a place. “Shortly after you came to live here. Right here.”

I swallowed, dropping his hand quickly. “Dannik, that was a long time ago.”

“You told her you had seen them in your dreams. Foryears,” he said quietly. “What did you mean? Because Iknowa sword injury when I see it. And that scar? It didn’t come from a sword.”

“Dannik,” I whispered, averting my gaze from his to drop to the ground. “I—I don’t… You know I cannot…”

“You think I’ll let them take you to theorala sa’kilan? You think I’ll let them take you away to the priestesses in the North Lands, to live out the rest of your days in training and servitude,usedas a conduit to try to create more heartstones?” Dannik asked me, his tone bitter and aghast. “Your mother lied to them. What makes you think I wouldn’t lie to protect you too? Youknowme, Klara. I would do anything to protect you. You’re mysister.”

Blood is blood, Klara.You are of me. He is of another. You cannot trust him fully.

My mother’s words. Permanently embedded in my mind. I’d wanted to tell Dannik. My mother had forbidden it. Now she was dead. So why couldn’t I shake her words?

“Even go against your own mother?” I asked. “Because we all know what she did.”

Dannik reared back.

“She’s wanted me gone since I first came to the palace,” I told him. “Any hint of weakness… I’m surprised she hasn’t married me off to adarukkarin one of the hordes. If only so she never has to look at me again.”

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