Page 3 of A Kingdom of Destruction

A heavy day of battle loomed ahead. Even with her runes, the thought of another long fight, more bodies falling, constricted her heart. The people in the city below knew it was only a matter of time before the fae took everything in this land, and everyone with it. Grimrose would fall eventually against the immortals. They had all the time in the world while Aven and her kin wereonly there for a limited span. The other kingdoms? Too distant, too busy waging their meaningless wars against each other, blind to the true threat that Mourningvale posed—or perhaps simply grateful it wasn’ttheirchildren being claimed by the fae.

Cowards.

The walls were strong, made of golden stacked limestone, and the iron gates were designed to keep the fae at bay. It didn’t matter.

She bit her lower lip, gnawing at it.

The quick survey of the bustling streets below, now shaded by the thunderous storm clouds, tightened her chest further. The roads were muddied by carriages carrying weapons. Too many houses were left in disrepair with roofs sagging and tiles in desperate need of fixing, when every last copper had to go toward either food or better magical protections against the fae, and the cracks in the grand city had started to show.

Scrawny animals pawed at piles of trash and children played over broken stone and rubble.

Aven reached a hand to her side and drew her tingling fingers against her wand, strapped to her upper thigh.

The entire kingdom had become no better than a slum, and the fighting, she knew in her gut, would never cease. Not while the fae continued to hammer at them with superior strength. It would take a miracle to secure victory for the humans.

A fierce wind kicked up browned leaves and drew them in wild circles above the stone floor of the parapet. Strands of hair whipped free and lashed against her pale cheeks as her odd-colored eyes scanned the horizon for any sign of an early attack.

She found nothing.

“I should have known I’d find you out here. Always watchful.” General Hunter joined her on the battlement, his left hand curling over the stone as he stepped to her side. He peereddown at the village before his gaze swept the horizon in the same arc hers had taken.

“I didn’t realize you were looking for me.” It took all her years of training on and off the battlefield to avoid showing him her surprise.

General Hunter took particular delight in testing her skills, whether it was because she was the youngest person to lead a battalion or because she was a princess. Either way, Aven always tried to keep on her toes.

Today he’d startled her. Too wrapped up in her head, she realized, to hear him approach. Especially with the wind moaning.

She turned slowly toward the General. He’d donned his usual battle suit, the polished metal keeping his chest protected now gleaming in the dull light overhead. Hunter had been her father’s ally for countless years, and his instincts in war made him a terrible force to reckon with.

The Golden Claw.

That’s what they called him.

Hunter’s signature sword, its handle charged from magic worked into the gleaming metal, had cut down too many fae to count.

Now his dark round eyes were fixed on her. “I thought you’d use this time to talk to your troops and prepare them for what will come,” he said. “Instead, you’re lost in daydreams. Should I be worried?”

“Never daydreams.” She fought to match his stillness, how it seemed not one salt-and-pepper hair at his temples moved in the breeze.

Aven had seen him cut down enemies with a single swipe of his legendary sword. She’d also seen him barking out orders to one of his lackeys when it came time for her own training. She’d taken too many spills on the mat, not to mention cuts andbruises and sprained ankles, because of his maneuvers. All the training served her well when it came time, however.

How could she be anything but grateful?

She straightened and offered him a half smile. “I’m headed down there shortly. I had my runes touched up to make sure everything is in order for tomorrow.”

Hunter nodded, his face giving nothing away as he scanned her. “We’ve taken the time to prepare. This battle, unlike the others…” He trailed off.

He didn’t need to finish. They’d seen the Mourningvale army moving into position, their scouts relaying the message back to the kingdom. It had given them ample time to prepare their men and get them ready for what lay ahead.

Bloodshed and pain and horror. No matter their advanced warning, every fight ended with the same outcome. Many of them survived, and many more of them fell, their tattered bodies decorating the already desolate land.

Even the earth seemed to shrink and die underneath the weight of these long years of war.

“I’ve never mentioned it before, Aven. Never seemed like the right time,” Hunter continued, his voice gruff. He jerked his head out toward the fighting fields beyond. “I’m proud of you.”

Aven grimaced, surprise causing her to shift. “There’s no need for compliments.” Not that she’d heard many of them, especially not from Hunter. “I’ve done what anyone would do.”

“There are many royals who wouldn’t dare don armor and fight alongside their men.”

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