Page 118 of The Blood Crown

The men seemed equal parts terrified and enthralled by her, giving her a wide berth as she stalked to her position at the wall, slinging the bow from her shoulder and nocking a black-tipped arrow.

Aurelia got more than a few curious glances—not only because she was on the battlement with the men, but because the dark gear she wore was so out of place here. Some of them didn’t even seem to recognize her without the brightly colored gowns.

Asher pulled Seth and Ven aside, “My men have steel blades, steel tipped arrows—am I sending them out to their death?” he quietly asked.

“Steel and iron will slow them down, but to kill them you’ll need to remove the head,” Seth answered. “A ring of salt will keep the lesser demons at bay. Fire and ravenstone will end them quickest.”

“We’ll spare as many blades and arrows as we can,” Ven offered.

Asher gave a nod of understanding, shouting, “Dodge! Ned!”

Two of the men detached themselves from the wall. “Captain Norrick,” they answered, seeming to shake off the shock of seeing him returned.

Asher grabbed the older man by the shoulder. “There’s a cache of old weapons in the back rooms off the training pits. Take ten men with you and carry as many as you can to the courtyard. We need iron—as much as you can find.”

Ned nodded his head once, voice barking into the night as men peeled away from the wall to help him.

It was so strange to see her brother this way—not the joking, charming Asher she knew, but serious. Decisive. His men trusted him, and it seemed he’d earned it.

“Dodge, we need a bucket of tar and a torch for every archer.” Asher clapped the man on the shoulder. “Go!” He turned toward the courtyard below, palms landing on the rough stone of the wall as he called down, “Find me the head cook!”

Three young men scrambled at the order, dashing into the palace as someone barked from behind them, “What is this?”

Dread pooled in her gut at the familiar voice.

She slowly turned, already knowing who she would see.

Bastien stood a dozen feet away, but it was as if he’d been physically struck, stumbling back a step when her eyes slid to where he stood.

Whatever he remembered of their last encounter seemed to be at war with the vision before him now. And she wondered for a fleeting moment what he thought as he looked at her.

A warrior, a fighter. A queen.

“Aurelia—” he began, his expression some mixture of shock and disgust as his ice blue eyes took in the clothing she wore. Then his gaze travelled behind her.

She could already feel the heat pouring off Ven as he towered over her shoulder, the reassuring feel of his hard chest brushing against her back. And even though she couldn’t see his face, she could imagine the look he was giving Bastien now.

Whatever questions were on Bastien’s tongue, he bit them off, choosing instead to glance at Asher once more, indignationin the set of his shoulders as he squared them again. “You can’t just show up here after months of being gone and start giving orders!”

“Like hell, I can’t,” Asher barked, taking two strides toward him. He lifted the edge of the cerulean blue cloak pinned to Bastien’s shoulder, letting it fall again with thinly veiled disgust. “You have a lot of fucking nerve wearing these colors.”

“Speak plainly,” Bastien demanded, eyes wild as he tried to take in the scene before him. Making Aurelia wonder for a moment if he really didn’trememberwhat happened; what he’d done.

She’d compelled him to forget that night, if only to preserve the secrecy of the Blood Folk and her own abilities, but she wondered exactly how much of his mind she’d taken.

“I mean—” Asher said with deathly quiet, taking another step forward that brought his nose an inch away from Bastien’s, “you plotted with the First Brother to assassinate Councilors.” He shoved a finger into his oldest friend’s chest. “You elevated your own station and gained a title by killing your uncle.” His green eyes dripped with venom as they bored into Bastien’s. “You locked up my little sister. Offered her up for your scheming.”

The blue cloaks nearby put hands on their hilts, glancing between Asher and Bastien—unsure whose orders to follow.

Bastien’s eyes dropped to where Aurelia stood. “She—” His bronze brows furrowed, as if he was struggling to grasp the memory. And then they widened, seizing it—remembering the last words they’d spoken to each other before he’d locked her up in her chambers.

I can fix you.

A wall of Wraiths rose up behind her. A low rumble came from Karro, the corner of Nira’s lip lifted in a snarl, and the blue cloaks blanched at the sound.

“You didwhat?” Ven’s voice was deadly calm, malice pouring off him like the shadows that pooled at their feet.

Something like regret softened Bastien’s expression for a fleeting moment as his gaze lingered on her, gone just as quickly as he directed his attention to Asher again.

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