Page 86 of A War of Crowns

At least this way, merely betrothed to the monster rather than married, she would have the time to think of a more permanent solution for her Aldric Hargrave problem while still ensuring Mysai had the troops it needednow.Assuming the Crow didn’t refuse her proposal.

A part of her hoped he might.

Pulling away from the king, Seraphina drifted the final few steps toward the elder Hargrave. Eyes locking with his, she extended her left hand.

He looked at it as if she were offering a dagger to him, blade first.

“If you will accept my proposal, Your Highness?” Seraphina asked, doing her best to keep her voice pleasant, even while she prayed he would say no.

Clearly, he didn’t want to be here. Clearly, he didn’t want to do this.

Here is your opportunity, she wanted to whisper, but dared not for fear of being overheard.Reject me and go back to whatever it was you were doing when the world thought you were dead.

“We will have order in the assembly,” the Master of Ceremonies shouted. His assistants joined in trying to command the various courtiers and officials into silence. “We will have order!”

The quiet that descended was absolute, leaving Seraphina painfully aware of the sound of her own breath and the distant cries of Alyx still cavorting with the Crow’s usuru.

In that silence, she waited.

She waited until the hand extended toward the Crow of Drakmor trembled from the effort of holding it aloft and steady. She waited until she began to question whether the man intended to answer her at all.

When the Crow abruptly jolted forward and grasped her hand, a gasp escaped her lips unbidden. Her natural instinct was to flee from this man. To pull herself from his hold.

To run. To never look back.

As if sensing the sudden spark of fear within her soul, the Crow narrowed his eye and tightened his grip.

“IacceptHer Majesty’s proposal,” he rumbled into the stillness of the pavilion.

And the world erupted in a fresh bout of chaos.

Surprise pricked at Seraphina’s heart, while the members of both the Elmorian and Drakmori royal courts tried to make sense of what had just happened. The lawyers bickered. King Edmund fumed.

And Seraphina stood there, staring down at the Crow of Drakmor, waiting for him to release her hand.

But he didn’t. He didn’t let her go.

Seraphina’s pulse sounded out a warning trill as the man’s fingers remained coiled about hers. His hand was warm. His skin was rough. It might not have been a wholly unpleasant experience were he not a cold-blooded killer.

How many innocent people had been struck down with the very hand now wrapped about her own?

“Release me,” she softly commanded.

But still, he did not listen.

Instead, the Crow lifted her hand and dragged it closer to his face with an excruciating slowness. Within his grip, her fingers trembled.

What new game was this? Was he toying with her? Taunting her?

But just when his lips hovered but a hair’s breadth away from her skin, just as the heated caress of his breath bathed her knuckles, the Crow stopped and looked up at her.

“You just made a grave mistake,wife,” he growled under his breath, leaving her heart racing anew. Only in the wake of those words did the Crow finally release her hand with a dismissive flick of his wrist.

She didn’t know what he meant by that, but she didn’t care. She had what she wanted—Edmund outplayed.

She would worry about the rest later.

In the haste of her retreat, Seraphina nearly stumbled into her defeated opponent headlong. As she stared up at him, King Edmund’s eyes flashed a dark warning of their own. For once, she saw the resemblance between the two Hargrave brothers.

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