Page 97 of Forged in Cursed Flames (Crown and Crest 2)

He laughs, mollified, and the rest of us filter out through the front doors.

I press a hand to my nervous stomach. If all goes as planned, we’re going to confront Camellia this very evening.

24

Henrik

Very few traditionalgardens are dispersed throughout the city, even in the part of the capital built upon the land. Instead, there are pools and winding streams that home all manner of waterfowl and decorative fish. Water lilies bloom upon them, and fountains spray from the center of the elven-made ponds.

Since the palace is only a short walk, we meander through the maze of water gardens that surround the outermost walls. Indeed, the city is like an aquatic labyrinth, with bridges and stepping-stones that cross elaborate water features.

Audra, Lady Ellaine, and Lyredon expertly lead us through the walkways that span the canals that connect the city.

“How is anyone supposed to find their way?” Bartholomew asks when we finally pass through an arch in the decorative wall, looking at the towering palace that doesn’t appear to be any closer than it was when we left the estate. “Is the grand duke so very reclusive?”

“It’s a little easier to navigate from the front entrance,” Audra says, “but it would have added another thirty minutes to our walk if we’d gone that way.”

As we twist through more water gardens, we get squawked at by a mouthy bird, and Bartholomew nearly falls from a bridge when he leans too far over to get a better look at a purple fish that Pranmore claims is very rare.

Finally, we enter the palace’s innermost courtyard.

High Vales stop mid-conversation when we arrive with the duke’s aunt and cousin, looking flabbergasted to see high nobility flaunting about with four humans and a Woodmore.

An attendant wearing a long, white robe scurries to the front entrance, intercepting us before we enter the palace.

“My lady,” he says to Lady Ellaine, bowing low. “I do not believe His Grace is expecting”—he pauses to look at us, wrinkling his nose slightly when his gaze latches on Pranmore—“visitors.”

“Hello, Elwin,” Lady Ellaine says warmly. “You may inform my nephew I do not require his permission to bring guests into the home in which I grew up. If he has a problem with that, he is more than welcome to speak with me privately.”

“Er…yes.” He clears his throat. “Of course.”

“Please go ahead and tell him we are here,” she says. “This is Pranmore, Commander Henrik, Lady Clover, and Duke Bartholomew.” She then pauses for emphasis, looking particularly haughty. “And His Royal Highness, Prince Lawrence Gevaldry.”

The man’s eyes become as wide as saucers. He bows quickly. “Your Highness, I am Elwin Kal Tigminta, and I am Duke Augmirian’s royal steward. I am humbled to make your acquaintance. If there is anything I can do for you, anything at all, please ask me personally.”

“I’ll do that,” Lawrence says, his tone full of good humor. “First, I would like to see my snake sister.”

The man freezes before he all but squeaks, “Princess Camellia?”

“That’s her.”

He pastes a tight smile upon his face. “I will inform Her Royal Highness you are here.”

Lawrence gives him a nod of dismissal, and the steward hurries inside.

I scan the hall as we enter, looking for signs of trouble. Audra assured me more than half of the royal guards are loyal to her family, and she sent word ahead that we’d be arriving so they could prepare. But that doesn’t put me at ease. We’re still in enemy territory, facing a foe I’ve never met—and the kingdom’s crown prince of all people decided to tag along with me. It’s not an ideal situation.

And while more than half of the guards are on our side, the remaining portion is devoted to Augmirian and prepared to overturn the monarchy with war.

To add to the situation, rumors about Ayan’s identity are spreading throughout the dukedom even though Augmirian tried to keep his brother’s existence quiet. People wonder if Ayan is a dangerous imposter, as Augmirian claims, or if he is truly the duke’s half-brother, returned from the dead to claim his title.

There is a general state of unease in the dukedom, and that alone is dangerous.

We reach the large dining hall, and the attending guard opens the doors, tapping his staff to the marble floor to catch the room’s attention. But there is no need for the fanfare. The steward scurried ahead of us, alerting his liege to our arrival. Every eye is upon us as soon as we enter.

A man who vaguely resembles Ayan stands at the head of the table atop a dais. Camellia sits beside him, and the whole of her attention is onme. A satisfied smile tips her blood-red lips, and she sits back in her seat, looking like a queen preparing to hold court.

Next to me, Clover stiffens. I grasp her wrist to keep her from charging across the room. Under my fingers, she trembles with righteous fury. Knowing the impulsive noblewoman as I do, I believe there’s an excellent chance she’ll crawl over the table and leap at the princess if I can’t remind her to stay calm.

---