Page 143 of The King has Fallen

Or he could legitimately have forgotten the message and was now making me carry my claim to him, a public display of my submission because it bolstered his smug ego to have others see me do so.

I would put nothing past him. But since he’d told me to go first—claiming he didn’t remember how to reach his tent fromhere—I was forced to walk with him at my back, leaving me no easy room to simply toss her aside, or flee with her.

He was leaving me no choice but to kill him.

I looked down at her, and her eyes cut up from behind me, to meet mine, wary and alert.

I wish I could speak into minds, or share images as she had. Reassure her that I would not fail her.

But to my surprise, she inserted herself into my mind, an image of herself holding and petting me. Soothing. Reassuring… and the dead King on the dirt behind me.

I swallowed hard, but nodded once. Her eyes flashed with surprise and she tucked her chin down, but turned back to watch Gault over my shoulder—the image now shifting to what she saw so I’d know if he came at me from behind.

I hated this. Hated knowing there was no other choice. But it was clear that my honor would no longer carry me safely through this war. I was being set up. Either the King truly wanted to touch my mate, or he wanted to use her as a pawn in his game to destroy me. Regardless, the end result would be the same.

I’d cut off any limb he so much as brushed her with. Starting with those fingers, and that tongue. And yet, even as that conviction settled in my chest, even as I accepted that there was no other course, grief made my steps heavy. Not for Gault—the man was a pig. But for Yilan. I would gladly lose my life to the executioner in defense of her… but I had to find a way to kill the King and get her away quickly enough that she wasn’t simply taken by someone else as she fled.

And then I remembered the Fetch and my breath caught.

Yilan glanced up at me, then went back to watching Gault.

“Sing,” I said quietly, remembering she’d said that’s how she called them. “Sing the song that takes you away… you’ll need it,” I murmured.

She took a deep breath and I thought she’d sing. But she shook her head and the words rushed from her in a breath.

“There’s no point.” She placed an image in my mind then—empty forest. No Fetch close enough to hear.

I was looking for careful words to encourage her to sing anyway, just in case, when Gault spoke up from behind me.

“You will not be denying meanything,Fetch. Not even once. Your General may be lax in his discipline, but I am not. You will obey the very time I speak, or you will pay. Do you understand?”

Yilan shrank in my arms and I almost tossed her aside and just went for him then—but there was too much risk of someone else stepping into the trail and seeing before I could get her away—or catching her while I fought him.

I had to get him in the tent. I had to get a hand on one of his weapons.

And I had to kill him.

My pulse thrummed in my skin and my breath was short. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, my instincts expecting attack from behind at any second.

Yilan kept her head down and her expression miserable, but I felt her tensing, preparing.

“You need to be good,” I muttered as if I was preparing her for the King to take her. “Do as you’re told and nothing more. Stay out of the way unless you’re instructed otherwise.”

“Do not interfere. Leave this to me,”she breathed.

Before I could tell herfuck no,we were at Gault’s huge tent. I turned sideways, putting her back to the flaps that covered the doorway, letting her get a straight look at Gault, to remind her what we were dealing with, as I used her back to push the canvas aside.

I scanned the tent immediately, walking her towards his bed at the other end of the massive tent, looking for his weapons. They were always plentiful, and sharp. I needed to get onemyself, without letting him get close enough to grab one for himself.

Several blades, swords, and spears leaned against the furniture at the back of the tent—behind his bed. Clocking their locations, I determined that I would lay her on the bed and make a fuss of settling with her to give myself time to grasp whichever was closest before Gault could get a hand on her—

Skin prickling with nerves, my steps got faster as I hurried her towards the bed. Behind me Gault entered and made straight for the writing desk at the side of the tent, rummaging through things there until he came up with what he’d been looking for.

He nodded, and rumbled, rolling it and tying it off with his royal knot as he approached, smiling that dark smile as I lay her down on his bed.

Her fingers dug into my forearm, but I ignored it, eyes on Gault, mentally preparing for the moment he’d look away, so I had half a second to whirl and grab one of the weapons—

“Take this to the generals. Then lead the advance.” Gault stalked towards me holding out the rolled parchment. “In a few days, when we hear of your success, I will kill her. But in the meantime…” He leered at her and I stiffened. “I will keep her busy.”

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