Page 96 of The Blood Crown

His eyes scanned the courtyard leading up the opulent entryway. “Possibly, and he’s welcome to them since there aren't many noble families left to claim them anyway.”

The doors swung open; the sentries’ heads dipped in respect.

Ven wore no crown today and she’d followed his lead. Their clothing was simple, warm to handle the winter chill in the rugged climate, but there was no mistaking Ven for anything other than what he was. His blood marked him as royalty—but even the way he carried himself brooked no room for question. Shadows rippled from him, dark and foreboding. He was power incarnate. He was a king.

They were led into a finely decorated dining room—four massive hearths roaring with fires. Rich tapestries lined the black stone walls and candles flooded the space with light across the table that stretched the length of the room. It was bare even though the evening hour called for a meal.

Five males of varying ages had gathered in the grand room. Four of them stood as Aurelia and Ven entered—the last, his once-black hair flecked with white—didn’t bother to rise from his seat at the very end.

Something whispered down Aurelia’s spine, making the hair on the back of her neck stand on edge. A memory tugging at her instincts . . .

Once food is offered, no harm may come to you inside the host’s walls.

Ven had spoken those words to her shortly after she’d awoken in Ravenstone—an attempt to put her at ease, but an important facet of their customs.

An insult—and a warning. A single glance at the aged male’s expression told her he’d meant it as such.

“My Lords,” Ven began, controlled—unbothered. And she realized that was thetruedisplay of power. “We thank you for your hospitality.”

Only one pair of red eyes glimmered with warmth at their arrival. Silver streaked through the dark hair of the broad-shouldered male, towering over the others in the room by a head.

His age-weathered face was solemn as he clasped a fist to his chest. “Your majesty.”

“It’s good to see you again, Lord Thero,” Ven replied, an attempt at diffusing the tension that had sparked in the room.

The male at the head of the table remained silent.

The younger male standing beside him, echoed, “An honor,” eyes darting between his companions, as if trying to decide whose lead to follow.

The other two dark-haired males murmured, “Your Majesty.” The title begrudgingly spoken, but Ven ignored the jab—offering a bland, polite smile in return as they took their seats.

“Your message was—unexpected.” One of the younger lords commented as servants poured glasses of Red.

Ven took a sip of his drink, meeting each of their gazes—holding the icy stare of the male furthest from them. “Asthe Lords of the Western Slopes, I’m sure you’re aware of the growing threat beyond our borders—”

“From your father,” the eldest male interrupted, finally breaking his silence.

Clearly the Red was as far as his generosity would stretch.

“From much more than the Nostari, Lord Bellor,” Ven plowed on, unfazed. “The Dark King has amassed an army—”

“I thought as the Wraith Commander,” the male drawled, “it was your duty to see he did not.”

The other lords shifted in their seats—the insult plain now. But to Ven’s credit, he didn’t shy away from the accusation, meeting the male’s red eyes directly.

“He created rifts in the wards—unbeknownst to us. To me. And now we’ve run out of time.”

An omission of her responsibility in all of this—the fact that the King of the Void was amassing an army to findher.

Emboldened, one of the raven-haired lords asked, “Is it true that you’re harboring one ofthem.”

He could only mean Valea.

A chill descended on the room, the four large hearths in the space not nearly enough to warm it.

Ven was cunning enough to hear the tone of the question . . . one wrong word and this meeting would go to shit. Maybe it already had. “A member of the Court of Flame helped us escape when we were held captive there. She remains at Ravenstone out of gratitude for the risk she took in seeing our safe return.”

The youngest lord opened his mouth, but Ven cut off his words. “We are preparing Ravenstone for an imminent attack and I have come to call on your support—as your king.”

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