Page 14 of Seven Ways to Kill a King
Miri knew what he was doing, but she would not be scared away, and she let him see it in her gaze.
“You’re not capable of killing a man with your bare hands.” His words were flat and without malice.
She didn’t bother arguing that she would have a sword. She knew how the struggle of fighting went and that it was never truly how one planned. “I have killed,” she said quietly.
“Chickens. Maybe a doe.” He met her stare. “It’s not the same.”
“It’s not different.” It was. Killing to eat was not killing to kill. Wild game was no man. It was only a meal.
Cass was trying to scare her because of what she’d done and because they were getting closer to Pirn and the nearness of executing her plan. But there was no turning back. She had no other choice.
It wouldn’t be easy. And yes, she’d drawn a bow on a deer and watched the light fade from its eyes at her strike and known it would never again fawn. But she’d never killed a man. Of course, she’d imagined it. Countless times, she’d envisioned holding each of those kings by the scruff of his neck, tugging his head back, and holding a blade at his throat as she whispered, “The Lion Queen sends her regards.”
She deserved to be scared. But she would not be turned away.
“There wouldn’t be sympathizers if the kings were doing even a remotely decent job.” Cass’s eyes shot to hers, but Miri kept on. “That man and woman would not have lost their home, their barn, and their freedom if the treasonous bastard lords who stole the throne knew a thing about how to rule. People are starving. Trade suffers even now. A good day’s wage will barely buy a hock of meat.” Miri bit down hard against the words. Cass didn’t need that lecture. He understood better than her.
Things were falling apart. Those men had not taken her mother’s rule because the Lion Queen had done poorly at it. They’d stolen it for greed and because it had seemed like that power was something to envy. Since that day, the people of the realm had suffered. For years, it had only grown worse.
Cass shoved the empty shell of the rabbit, tied to a stick as a mass of strange pale forms, into the fire.
He stayed knelt across the fire from Miri, his eyes on the flickering flames. Miri thought about the words they’d overheard at the inn, the children and girls taken by the kingsmen, and how their blood would be used by the sorcerers at the king’s command.
When the meat had finally cooked through, Cass shifted it away from the flame. It was several moments before he lifted the spit from the fire and came around to settle beside Miri. He didn’t speak as he offered her first share. Miri tore a small hunk free, and the meat was hot against her chilled fingers. He took the spit back, looked at it for another few moments, then slid it toward the fire. He glanced at his boots, settled the heels firmly into the earth, and wrapped his arms loosely around his knees.
Miri took a bite of her portion, but the hot grease felt thick in her throat and made her stomach turn.
They didn’t speak until the fire burned low.
“I’m going to Pirn.” Miri’s voice was barely a whisper, but her words were no less a vow. “And I’m going to kill that bastard king before the next moon.”
Chapter 8
Cass hadn’t argued with Miri again, but he’d made it clear that he did not support her plan. She was risking her life—a life he was sworn to protect and utterly responsible for—so they were at odds with no hope of reconciliation on the matter. The night the kingsman had been slain, Cass had sat quietly in the darkened woods, waiting for his brothers-in-arms to show. No one had come. Miri had not been able to see Cass in those shadows, and he’d been grateful. He’d watched his brothers—bloodsworn and queensguard—die before. He had no desire to see it again.
He prayed Terric had made it out and that the kingsman’s body was never found. If it had been, they would know soon enough.
Cass had planned their next stop at a manor outside of Pirn, but with the kingsmen so thickly afoot, he decided to take the princess farther into the city and find safety among the crowds—if he could keep her fool emotions from getting the best of her sense, anyway. Her drive was well and truly dangerous for so many, not just herself.
As he silently rode beside her, Cass remembered Miri as a child. She’d been a mannered, intelligent little lion, bejeweled and beribboned, and a beast with a sword. But the fight had gone out of her for a while.
The escape had been hard on all of them, along with the endless grief of not just losing family but also losing their way of life and everything they held dear. They’d even had to give up their names. Miri had barely spoken that first year. Cass wasn’t much older than she was, but those few years had made a difference. He couldn’t deny that he would give anything to be able to see Henry again and to have back the family he lost. But he’d understood they were gone and that there was no going back. He couldn’t even return to his previous family without putting them at risk.
Miri had grown under the watch and protection of what was left of the queensguard. They’d been scattered and hiding through the realm, but the Lion Queen had put plans into place. She must have known the betrayal was close and sensed something the others hadn’t. Cass had wondered so often why the queen had not warned her guard and whether she’d confided in Henry. But there was no way to know once they were gone.
So Cass, one of the few who’d eluded massacre, had watched Miri turn from princess to lost girl to the creature she’d become. He’d seen her with sword and bracer behind Nan’s barn or hacking away at oat sacks in the stable. She’d thrown knives and punches but only when she thought she was alone. Miri had always possessed skill, but the motions as she grew had been filled with violence, anger, regret, and the helpless rage that he’d felt for so long as well. What had happened had broken her and was breaking her still.
“We’ll be riding into Pirn soon,” Cass said. “Perhaps slide up your hood to keep the sun from your face.”
Miri had barely spoken to him in the three days since their encounter with the kingsmen. He wasn’t sure whether the silence stemmed from his disapproval of her plan or her guilt that she’d risked Terric. She slid the cloak hood up regardless, knowing full well his concern was more that she might be recognized than have too much sun. But Miri was not the little girl she used to be, and though she would certainly draw a man’s eye, it was not because of a resemblance to the Lion Queen. Her hair had been dyed dark, her face was smudged with dirt, and she was in the clothes of a woodsman.
“When we arrive,” he said carefully, “I’d like to discuss your plans in detail.”
Her gaze, suddenly sharp, shot to his. She was ready for a fight.
He inclined his head. “So that I might do what I can to assist you.”
Her expression cleared for a moment. Then she said, “I’ll not allow you to do it for me. I have to do this myself.”
