Page 25 of Shadows of the Crown

“Ooh,” Jeth mocks, his fingers dangerously close to their end. “The feisty ones always suck the be—” I lunge to grab his wrist, folding it until I hear the snap. Jeth screams as I twist his body, unsheathing the sword at his back before kicking him roughly. He stumbles, arms flailing as he falls—a satisfying thud greets my ears when he lands roughly on his back. The audience next to him backs up when I swing the sword around and plant a foot to his shoulders.

“No, no, please! I’m sorry, it was just a joke!” I push harder, enjoying when his groans turn to wheezes.

“Jokes are meant to be humorous, and yet I’m not laughing.” I rear the sword back before sending it through his wrist. A clean cut.

I hum, stepping over his writhing form to avoid soaking my boots in blood and dropping the sword on his abdomen. His sobs lessen, and my eyes find the prince, who is not attempting to hide his pleased smirk. I raise a brow at the men in the crowd that have moved to cover their women.

As if that would stop me from taking them.

Not that they wouldn’t come willingly—I’d fuck them better than those feeble pricks could ever dream to.

“You stupid bitch!” I stop, a wicked smile tugging at my lips. The prince looks at me expectantly, his eyes gleaming brightly.“What now, angel?”his gaze challenges.

Before he can blink once more, I snatch one of my blades and spin to fling it at Jeth. It makes a delicious noise when it sinks into the man’s cock. His eyes become unnaturally wide as he looks between me and the blade, frozen in place. Eventually, his gaze lands on me again, a torrent of emotions darting through him.

“I warned you.”

I turn and saunter the final distance, ignoring that fool’s childish wailing. Perhaps it was imprudent to maim another contestant right before the second trial, but he was asking for it. I’ll leave him my blade as consolation; I’ve no desire for it back, anyway.

My fingers flex before I clasp them behind me and peer at the Blackwood family. Vespera wrings her hands together, worrying her lip as she attempts to look anywhere except the bloody scene I’ve created. Her blonde hair is woven into a braid, draped over a tense shoulder.

She could be salvageable yet.

Seraphina lounges in her seat with an outward air of boredom, though her eyes speak different tales. Their calculating leer matches the severe angles to the queen’s face. Her jaw appears carved outof stone, while her lips are thin and endlessly framed in sincere distaste.

Nothing will ever be good enough for such a woman.

Interesting, though, that her contempt is only aimed toward her people and not the mutilated contestant behind me. Deep brown hair surrounds most of her head, with a brighter piece at the front from where it catches the warm light.

I should not look his way, nor give him any more of my attention, but my disloyal eyes betray me. My abdomen flexes when my body registers the all-consuming heat of the prince's stare. His clothes seem finer this evening—where he often wears trousers and a button-down top, tonight his tawny skin is covered by a crimson doublet that is threaded with gold. The griffin within the royal crest stands proudly over his heart.

He certainly portrays the image of nobility.

The corner of his mouth rises when he notices my perusal. His eyes flick to Jeth before meeting mine again, and he raises his brows as he nods slightly. His nonchalant composure nearly breaks at the unimpressed look on my face.

He knows I do not seek or care for his approval.

I itch to play into his ongoing attention and secure his loyalty. It will be so much sweeter to know the king watched me take his son from him emotionally before I kill him. Though I’m not sure I even need to pretend anything…the prince is quite taken already.

The musky air fills my lungs when an awareness builds behind my neck. Curiosity drives my eyes to the king, who glowers at me as his jaw grinds side to side. I offer the slightest acknowledgment, curving one side of my mouth before ignoring the Blackwoods once more.

Jeth’s sobbing fades until he can no longer be heard by the entire realm. I assume he’s been taken to a healer, though I’ve little care to confirm. Thalion rises, his light hair swaying with the precise movement, and raises a thick hand to silence the audience.

“People of Eldoria, and contestants, welcome to the second trial! This particular trial will test your stealth and strategy. I do hope you’ve donned proper clothing, as any small mistake could leave you caught and eliminated from the competition.” He chuckles darkly, and several people in the crowd follow along.

“This trial is simple. You will be given a riddle to solve, where the solution reveals the location of your trial. You are to bring back the hidden artifact at your location.” Gold and crimson decorated guards shuffle from behind the thrones, each taking a position in front of the thirteen assassins.

I survey the features of my guard, a patronizing comment resting on my tongue when he will not even look me in the eye. Despite being the same height as me, he manages to lift his chin enough to focus his eyes over my head and ignore my presence. His nose bends to the left, making his face appear tilted. He looks nice, though. Soft.

He reminds me of Isaiah a few years ago.

“I realize it is after the dinner hour. However, do not fret. Your devices will not ignite at midnight. Ah-ah,” he chides at whatever he finds disappointing behind me. “It is just for tonight’s trial. You have until the break of sun to return with your artifact and move forward in this competition. If you do not return by midnight tomorrow…well, you are not foolish enough to think there is a way out of your fate.”

The guards raise an arm, passing each of us our riddles. To my left, Sivara scoffs at the contents of her paper. The riddles must not be difficult, then. A glare from the king’s gilded crown skips over my eyes, and I blink, finding His Majesty watching me intensely.

“Your trial begins now. Do make haste—you do not wish to be snared in the claws of the night when you are so close to the final trial.”

It’s as if we’re the only two present in the room. I almost hear the echo of his deep voice as he says the cryptic words only to me.

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