Page 44 of Shadows of the Crown

Of course he doesn't miss the slip.

“Ah, you mean the wraith? She was the one attacked with this arrow?” I nod, not trusting my words just yet. “Well, I am afraid I do not know why she was attacked, however I cannot say I am either surprised or disappointed.” A barely perceptible smirk appears before he masks it.

“And the second trial? You've no clue how she was sent to steal from a griffin, of all things?”

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “What are you suggesting, prince?” A reminder of the lack of power I hold compared to the king.

I walk forward, pocketing my hands. “I do not believe I've suggested anything,” I drawl, already cursing myself for what I'm about to say. “Though I coordinated every part of that trial, and aside from me, you are the only other one with access to my design office. Or have you forgotten?” His jaw clenches, though he shows no other sign of his anger.

“Of course I haven't. But I'm uncertain what these attacks on the wraith have to do with me?”

“They have everything to do with you, Varrick! Is it not your job to protect my father?” He moves to speak, but I continue. “There is someone in this castle who was capable of tampering significantly with the second trial and organizing an attack by royal sentries who were given no such orders to fulfill. Why is this not a priority of yours?”

“Of course it is—I take such threats very seriously, though only in regards to the crown. I do not care that the assassin was targeted, though maybe next time they'll actually succeed in killing her. Angel knows we'd be better with her—” I slam my palms against his desk before he can continue.

“Finish that sentence or speak of her again, and I won't care who you are to my father.” There goes every plan I walked in here with, though the heat coursing through my body couldn't careless. I turn and walk out of the office, ignoring his triumphant stare.

Gavriel follows me back to my room, neither of us daring to speak until my door slams closed. He listens as I tell him of the conversation with Varrick, his brows scrunching further with each word.

He studies me for several moments after I'm done recounting my stupidity. “You need to stay away from her.”

“Excuse me?” I surely did not hear that right…

“We will keep looking into whatever the fuck is going on, but you don't need to be near her to do it,” he says harshly, holding his hands up to stop my retort. “Whoever is trying to kill her will likely keep trying, no? If you are placing yourself in her path, you're the one who will end up hurt or dead. I can't let that happen.”

The muscles along my jaw ache from the tension I've put on them over the last day, but I don't feel the pain as I clench my teeth together so hard I'm certain they'll crack. I want to tell Gavriel to fuck off. Tell him that he knows nothing of her, and he has no right to speak to me like I'm some ignorant child. Of course I fucking know who she is and the risks of wanting her. I do not need him, of all people, treating me as if I'm so blinded by desire that I cannot separate her fromeverything else.

I want to spit all of it and more at him, but the tightness in my throat softens the red haze in my head—he doesn't deserve such obscenities when his demands come from a place of fear.

I scoff, running a hand through my hair. If only I was scared for the same reasons.

Chapter Nineteen

Ariella

If this is Ally’s personality at the guild in Meridian, I fully understand why they sent her to the competition instead of another, better trained student. It is unfathomable to me how it is possible for one person to be so irritating. I’d choose a day with Isolde before this…at least she doesn’t talkasmuch.

“Oh! And then she jumped from the bow—jumped! As if those creatures were not swimming below us!”

“Wow…that’s the most frightening thingyou’veever done?” I bite my cheek at Isaiah’s question; he’s certainly becoming as annoyed with her as I am. Fuck if I’ll say anything, though; he wanted her around, he can tell her to leave.

“Well, yes,” she mutters uncomfortably. “I nearly fell unconscious right there!”

I shove her voice from my mind, focusing instead on the large group of women ahead of us. Each donning a different colored dress, all pastel. The bright colors wash out the royal gold and reds nicely—

“And he said hello as he passed!” One of the women squeals, the others huddling closer and giggling. My fingers flex. “Angel, heis the most kind and handsome prince…and to have his attention onme?” She sighs deeply, sweeping dark hair over her shoulder. It is moments like these that I am thankful for the amount of restraint I possess…I doubt the king would allow me to walk away after shoving my blade into her skull, which would inadvertently affect Isaiah.

The thrumming in my chest demands more than an excuse, but I cannot give into it.

“Ms. Mistaire.” The three of us pause, my abdomen clenching at the king’s voice.

I cross my feet and spin, clasping my hands at my back and raising a brow to Thalion as he saunters in my direction. He stops just ahead of me, his assessing gaze heating the blood rushing through my veins.

Fully ignoring Isaiah and Ally as they bow and mutter,“Your Majesty,”like good little minions, his icy eyes find mine. “I wondered if I might have a word.” Not a request—an order.

I deign him no response, glaring as he smirks and turns to walk in the opposite direction. I nod to Is before following the king, keeping an adequate distance between us. I’ve an idea of what he wishes to discuss, though I still do not trust he wouldn’t ambush me—but only the hint of dusty surfaces greets me as we turn several corners before he pulls a key from his crimson jacket.

He pushes open the door, turning to gesture me inside first. When I refuse to move, he scoffs as if I’m a disobedient childand disappears through the doorway. I follow cautiously, looking down each direction of this poorly lit hallway before disregarding every instinct and walking into the room.

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