Page 34 of Shadows of the Crown

“Save your assassin shit for someone who cares. And while you’re at it, stay away from Caspian. I don’t know what the fuck you’ve done to make him so preoccupied with you, but it stops now.”

I study him for a moment, a genuine smile forming on my lips. “Is that a threat, Gavriel?”

“You’re damn right it is. You will do nothing but hurt him, and I won’t sit back and watch.” That stung.

Sunlight streams down the hall when a door opens, though I’m too focused on unsheathing my blade to hear Isaiah approach.

“What’s going on?” My hand hovers over the cool metal for a heartbeat before I tap against it once more.

“Nothing—Gavriel was just leaving to tell his prince what agood boyhe is for following orders.” Something resembling a challenge crosses his face, but I’ve no desire to deal with him anylonger. “Go on. I’m sure Caspian hasn’t had his ass kissed all morning in light of your absence.”

“What was that about?” Isaiah questions when the guard stomps out of sight.

I wave my hand, dismissing his concern and gesturing for us to walk. “That’s not important.” I pull out my blade and mindlessly spin it through my fingers. “Someone tried to kill me in that trial.” I don’t mention the king. Yet.

He nods, considering. The other competitors were present when I arrived—they saw just what I was put through. “Fuck, Ari, I didn’t know what to do. The prince chased after you before I could, and with the way the king seethed when he ignored commands? I figured I should keep my head, as the prince probably took you to a healer.”

I halt, blocking a woman’s path. I do not move as she mutters curses about me under her breath. I focus on my friend; he looks tired. Worn. I haven’t been as here for him as I should be…especially considering Iwillhave him crowned victor in this competition.

“I would have beheaded you myself for doing something so mindless. You know not to worry for me, Is. I am more than capable of caring for myself.”

He pins me with a disbelieving expression. “I know, but you shouldn’t always have to. Theprince—”

“The prince took me to be healed, that is all.” A half-truth. The small piece that I can offer him, lest I begin sharing my secret with the entire realm. “Isaiah, I—” I, what? The reality of our future remains unspoken, neither of us wanting to discuss what we know happens next. He will not accept my aiding him in the final trial…and that renders the conversation pointless.

I study his dark eyes before sighing. “I’m hungry. Let’s stop at the dining hall.” I’m feeling too weak to be comfortable. He gives me a disappointed smile as we continue.

It’s disturbing the amount of paintings the king has of himself and his family. It seems that Thalion’s greatest admirer is Thalion. The staff must clean these portraits daily, as not a spec of dust resides on their surfaces. I scoff—he takes better care of these than he does his own people.

“How are you doing? Do I even want to know how you managed to escape a griffin attack?”

I laugh and shove his arm. “I didn’t escape. She just stopped advancing and let me walk away.” I don’t miss the several intakes of breath from those listening to our conversation.

“She?” I meet his questioning gaze, wondering the same myself.

Shrugging, I twirl my blade in the other hand. “I didn’t examine under her feathers to confirm. It just seemed like a female.”

“And your wounds?”

“Barely visible. The healer fell unconscious stitching them together, but they appear as just a bit of red skin now.” Another half-truth.

He questions me about the griffin as we eat, while those around us pretend to not soak up every word. The next trial is not for several days, so we do not rush through the morning. Ally joins us, and I cannot discern why I feel uneasy with how comfortable she is around Isaiah. I suppose that's my fault.

I remain aware, my eyes flitting to every guard we pass on our walk to the training grounds. I’ve yet to be attacked by the king’s men…

“What are we working on today?” Ally questions excitedly, smacking her hands together as we walk down the hill toward the sparring mats. The Angel must love her because I am unsure how she’s lived so long on her own. The woman has zero survival instincts.

“Is and I will go a few rounds, and I want you to watch the more advanced techniques we use. Assess how our movements were built from the basic skills we’ve been teaching you.”

She groans at whatever upsets her this time. I could tell her that I do not plan to train her at all today—I am not in the giving mood.

“It’s cool, Al,” Isaiah starts, sharing a pleading look with me. I roll my eyes as I trudge ahead and listen to him coddle her. He is too good for this realm. “I’ll work with you after and we cango over some more complicated steps.” My nose scrunches at the little squeal she breathes.

“Pathetic,” I mutter to myself.

The sun exits the clouds, my eyes protesting the sudden brightness. The ache in my head had improved after eating, though now it seems my efforts were wasted. I stop at the edge of the mat and face the outer wall as I stretch. My shoulders protest every movement, but I grit my teeth through the pain and force them to succumb.

I am in my head as thoughts of princes, essence, and politics fight for my attention when Isaiah and Ally’s conversation halts. My eyes snap open to a scowling best friend and a smirking Ally, both focused on something behind me.

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