Page 111 of Forged in Cursed Flames (Crown and Crest 2)

I feel safe with him. He’s dependable—my light in the lake of darkness.

Soon, we’ll be together, I promise myself.

In only a day or two, this Camellia business will be sorted, and we’ll be on our way back to Cabaranth.

I just have to survive the next few days.

27

Henrik

Camellia standsnext to Duke Augmirian to welcome us into the palace’s grand foyer. Her lips quirk to the side when she scans our group and sees a conspicuous absence. She then moves her attention to me, her eyes narrowing with feral satisfaction.

Even though we’re deceiving the princess, earning her approval repulses me.

“Where is Lady Clover?” she asks as if distressed. “Did she not wish to join us this evening?”

“She’s ill,” Lawrence says mildly. “Just a stomach ailment.”

Camellia looks delighted, but then she frowns. “Where’s your healer?”

“He stayed behind to tend her,” Audra says absently, and then she turns to her cousin. Lawrence and Audra purposely distract Augmirian, as we planned, leading him away from his wife. Bartholomew follows.

As if on cue, Camellia sidles up next to me. She wears a gown of deep scarlet, beautiful as always. Aware of the elven noblemen around us, she resists touching me and simply lowers her voice as we walk side-by-side into the dining hall. Quietly, she flirts, “Is Clover’s illness due to natural causes, or are you that obedient?”

My hackles rise, but I force myself to hide my anger.

“Poison,” I say under my breath. “Something the Woodmore shouldn’t be able to detect.”

Intrigued, her eyes brighten with interest as she looks at me. “What was it?”

I quickly rack my brain to think of a plant, trying to remember what I read in the aged apothecary journal I stumbled upon in the library last year.

“Gnarled tombscomb,” I say triumphantly, remembering the Ladoran weed that’s used as rat poison to keep vermin out of larders.

Camellia’s eyes widen. “How in the kingdoms did you track that down? And on such short notice?”

It doesn’t ease my concerns that the princess is familiar with the deadly toxin.

“I gathered some while in Ladora,” I lie, hating myself. “I’ve kept it for…emergencies.”

She coos as if pleased. “And here I thought you were such an upstanding soldier. If I’d known you had a devious streak, I would have sought out your services ages ago.”

I give her a tight smile, hoping it looks genuine. “I’ve done as you’ve asked. Meet me tonight—same place, same time.”

Camellia’s eyes flutter as if she’s briefly overcome, but then she hides her girlish reaction. Sternly, she says, “Clover’s not dead yet.”

“Why are you playing hard to get now?” I ask, genuinely exasperated. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’ve done your bidding. You should make good on your promise.”

A flush travels over the princess’s cheeks, making her look far more innocent than she is. “It doesn’t bother you that I’m married?”

“You told me it shouldn’t,” I say tonelessly. “Have you changed your mind?”

“No,” she answers with haste, and then she controls her reaction, brushing a come-hither hand down the side of her throat. “No.”

“Tonight then?”

As if determined, she nods. “Tonight.”

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