Page 42 of The Crownless Prince

“I’m granting you both a chance to redeem yourselves from Marcus’s error yesterday.” Thorne’s expression turned hard and foreboding. “If either of you fails or embarrasses me today, I will not be merciful to both of you.”

They bowed in tandem, both murmuring, “Yes, my lord.”

Marcus shoved down his panic. He would need to be focused and completely ignore Adriana and anything Thorne might say about their marriage. If he got distracted and did something wrong again, Edwin would suffer, too. Edwin had already done more than enough suffering on his behalf.

“I’m unsure what we’ll be doing today,” Thorne said, “but whatever it is, your assignment is the same—anticipate my needs, obey quickly and deferentially, and in general ensure your behavior reflects well on me. Understood?”

As they murmured their assent, Thorne stood and stepped forward, but he must not have realized how close he was sitting to the corner of the bed and the low arc of the tied-back curtains draping from the corner post. The curved end of his silver hair stick caught on the thick fabric, momentarily tugging him backward before the stick slipped freeand was left dangling from the curtain as Thorne’s eyes went round as saucers.

Had that been all, Marcus would have been fighting the urge to laugh.

Instead, the blood drained from his face as he stared, his heartbeat spiking.

With a snarled curse, Thorne spun away from them, hunching as he snatched up the hair stick and stabbed it into his hair. But it was too late to hide what Marcus had seen.

Green, snakelike scales covered the entire right half of Thorne’s face and his clawed right hand. One normal and one slitted reptilian eye blinked at them, the latter a mottled yellow and black. The right half of his mouth had no lips, partially showing his teeth and twisting awkwardly where the scaley skin melded with human flesh. The hair growing out of the scaled half of his head was thin and dull with a greenish sheen.

The hair stick back in place, Thorne whipped around to face them, his appearance returned to normal. In two quick strides, he was in front of them, his hands closing around their throats as he slammed them back into the stone wall.

“You sawnothing.” His grip on Marcus’s throat tightened to the point of strangulation as he pushed Marcus and Edwin up the wall until they were standing on the balls of their feet. “You saw nothing, and neither of you will say a word otherwise to me or another living soul, or I will kill you both. Slowly and painfully.” He squeezed harder, and Marcus grabbed at Thorne’s hand, trying to pull it away from histhroat to no effect as his vision clouded over.

At last Thorne released them, and they both collapsed to the ground, coughing and sputtering between gasping air into their bursting lungs.

A hand roughly grasped Marcus’s hair and yanked, forcing him to look up at Thorne.

“The only reason I’m not killing you right this moment is because it’d be messy and difficult to hide. But I can find a way to make you disappear that won’t draw attention if you cause trouble. But you’re not going to tell a soul, are you, Marcus Williams?”

“No, my lord.” His voice rasped.

Thorne knocked Marcus aside and then grasped Edwin by his hair. “And you, Edwin? Did you see anything unusual?”

Edwin shuddered. “No, my lord.”

Thorne shoved him so hard he sprawled onto his side. As Thorne straightened, he brushed his hands over his tunic and adjusted his belt before smoothing his palm over his braids.

Gingerly rubbing his aching throat, Marcus looked over at Edwin, reassuring himself that his friend was all right. As he sat up, Edwin ran his fingertips over the red marks on his throat, and his light-copper braids were in complete disarray, but he otherwise appeared uninjured.

“Get up,” Thorne said as he glared down his nose at them.

His legs were a touch shaky, but Marcus got to his feet, and so did Edwin.

“Your hair’s a mess. Tidy yourselves up and then eat your breakfast quickly. I expect you both to meet me in the great hall to wait on meduring breakfast. Go!”

They nearly tripped over themselves in their haste to leave the room.

WhatwasThorne? A human cursed by some vengeful witch? Or, as his unnerving strength suggested, not human at all?

Roger sneered, asking what they’d done in only a few minutes to get themselves into trouble. Jacob appeared sympathetic, while the other servants eyed their bruising necks with trepidation.

They fixed their hair as quickly as possible. Neither of them spoke. Marcus didn’t know what to say. What horrible situation had he gotten them into? At least he had an answer to saving Adriana. Surely King Mortimer would never give his daughter to that…thing.

The problem would be telling them. If he tried to address any of the royal family in front of Thorne, it’d be obvious what he was doing, and Thorne would stop him. He could try to remove Thorne’s hair stick, but Thorne would never let him get close enough. Either option might end with Thorne making good on his threat and killing him before he had a chance to warn Adriana.

The wedding wasn’t until tomorrow, and he planned to meet with Adriana that night. He just needed to get through today without any further incidents and warn her. During the wedding ceremony, she’d be able to reach the hair stick before they took their vows. That should put an end to all of this.

Unless…would Thorne harm her if she did that? He was incredibly strong, and if he wasn’t human, who knew what other secrets or perhaps magical powers he was hiding?

If only he could talk to Adriana alone now. He wouldn’t form a plan without her input. It was her future at stake more than his. Edwin was involved in this, too. He’d have to take Edwin with him to his meeting with Adriana. Between the three of them, surely they could strategize a way to expose Thorne to the king without risking harm to either Edwin or Adriana.

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