Page 9 of Shadows of the Crown

The king dismisses our groups, shifting his announcement to what the audience can expect, though his eyes remain on me as I walk from the arena. Even when I cannot see him any longer, I feel his gaze searing through my back.

I’ve already grasped his attention—perfect. I breathe deeply, feeling much lighter than I did an hour ago. Staff wait just outside the tunnel, two stepping away from the dozen to step in front of our trio.

“Welcome. We are to escort you to your rooms,” the smaller woman says quietly, bowing her head as she turns to lead us down a different path than we arrived on. She peers nervously over her shoulder, quickening her steps when she sees we’ve followed. Her crimson dress must be extraordinarily uncomfortable, the thick material covering her arms and down through her ankles.

The woman next to her lightly touches her shoulder, motioning us inside a small entrance at the back of the castle. Where more royal guards are stationed…it seems the king is taking no chances among his newguests. As if a few sentries could stop me from killing him.

I chuckle, Isaiah’s head snapping to me at the sound. I shake my head slightly, thankful he lets the behavior go in favor of beingfriendly with the staff. His kindness will kill him one of these days.

“What are your names?” The women share a look before the older one answers—the smaller one’s mother, I realize. They share the same pale blue eyes, sandy hair, and lithe frames. Amada and her daughter Corine. I study the castle as we walk through endless hallways, Is pestering the women with ridiculous questions. Which garden is the prettiest? What’s the best food that’s served here? If you walked at a normal pace from one end of the castle to the other, how long would it take?

“Nineteen minutes if you utilize the main halls, though only fourteen through the service passages.” The entire group pauses at my answer, though Isaiah just laughs and waves me off.

“Ignore her—she does that,” he mutters, pushing us along. I raise a brow at him in a way that says,“don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”He flattens his lips, facing forward.

Each hallway we enter has the same uniformity, much to my liking. The colors, however, are not. Cream, stone walls form pillars and grand arches where a gold chandelier hangs from each. In between are gilded lamps jutting from the walls, while the floors create square patterns with cream and red tiles.

It’s all very…royal.

We enter the guest wing, where there are fewer arches and more doors. I sigh, rubbing sweat from the back of my neck. The assassins who come from guilds that lie days away should be givenrooms during their time in the competition, though Valoria’s guild is a mere hour walk from here. There is no logical reason for Isaiah, Raine, and me to stay here.

Images of the king’s death flash through my mind, and suddenly the prospect of having access to his home for a few weeks doesn’t seem too burdensome.

“Ms. Mistaire, this will be your room…” Corine remarks, pushing open a door and stepping to the side. Isaiah looks over his shoulder and winks, Amada showing him and Raine to the two rooms next to mine. I walk through the doorway, clicking my tongue at the simple setup. A large window on the far side looks over Valoria, a wooden desk positioned next to it. Toward the center of the room is a large bed, which surprisingly isn’t dressed in crimson.

I cannot say the same for the rug that covers most of the floor, which displays the royal crest—

“I’ll have a bath drawn for you.” I whirl to the girl, having forgotten she was there.

Heat spreads through my veins as I pin her with a glare deadly enough to ensure she will personally tell each staff member of my demand. “No onebut me is to enter this room.Ever. Do you understand?” She nods, her wide eyes fluttering.

“Of course…my apologies, Ms. Mistaire,” she mutters quickly, hurrying from my sight.

My shoulders drop as I shove the door closed a bit too forcefully. I stare at the simple bolt meant to keep others out. I’ve nothing to hide—in physical possessions, anyway—so I suppose it wouldn’t matter if someone did enter.

I need to be careful, though. The king’s attention is not all good, and the other assassins will likely try anything to fuck with me. Even if that means sneaking into my room at night to slit my throat.

I tap my finger before tugging on my umbral strand and weaving wards through the door. It’s a risk I need to take, even if it means potentially exposing myself. I will not be here for long, and I doubt anyone of importance will attempt to enter my room.

I turn to face the window, grimacing at the beating sun shining through. A cold, cold shower is exactly what I need right now.

Chapter Six

Caspian

“Either you’ve lost all ability to weave since yesterday, or something’s on your mind,” Gavriel states harshly, obviously annoyed with my lack of effort. I sigh, swiping a hand down my face.

“I don’t know.” He gives me a look that says I’m lying. I shrug. “It’s really nothing, just the newgueststo the castle.”

“Has one of them tried to hurt you?” He stiffens, prepared to go after this made-up attacker.

“No,” I laugh as I shove his shoulder, walking to the table at the side of the training room. I gulp down a glass of water before continuing. “Nothing like that. Something just feels off…I can’t explain it.”

He nods slowly, considering my words. “Is it possible you’re just uncomfortable with so many killers living amongst you?”

I should be wary of the many assassins that now walk these halls, but I’m not. I do not feel like talking about it further, though. “Yeah. But I think I’m just tired. I’ll go rest for a while, then I’ll be back tobest weaver everstatus.” He barks out a laugh, and I roll my eyes athis disbelief.

I'm out of the room before he can say anything else, flipping him off and indicating I don’t want him to follow. He should technically be on duty right now, but he gives me space when I need it.

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