Page 41 of Fall of the Ember Throne (Crown and Crest 3)

“Sorceress,” someone whispers in the back.

Camellia smiles. “The necklaces your wives and daughters wear are a talvernum alloy as well, even though the metal looks different.”

She watches as the attending women’s hands fly to their throats and the men stare at the necklaces in horror.

“Consider them your bindings—I am now your grand duchess, and you will treat me with the respect the position is due. If you choose to step out of line…”

A young woman suddenly shrieks as if she’s in excruciating pain. Her mother grabs her, panicking as the girl screams like she’s been thrown into a fire.

I step forward to intervene, but Brielle’s sharp cry grabs my attention, and I whirl around to face her. My sister blinks at me, terrified. Her face flushes, and her eyes gloss with tears; she was obviously in horrible pain only a moment ago.

“Henrik,” the princess chastises calmly. “Think of your sister.”

For Brielle’s sake, I squeeze my hands into fists and hold my ground. My muscles shake as I watch the horrific display, but I don’t dare move. There’s nothing I can do anyway.

Finally, it ends.

The young woman gasps for breath. Her face is bright red and marred with tears. She hides behind her hands, shaking as she collapses into her mother’s arms.

Camellia clasps her hands at her waist and dons a serene smile. “As you can see, death isn’t the only horror I can inflict.”

“Remove the necklace,” one of the men says to his wife urgently. “Now.”

The woman shakes her head, horrified at the thought. But with trembling fingers, she locates the clasp at her neck and obeys her husband.

Camellia watches impassively, making no move to stop her.

“Don’t—” I yell, but it’s too late.

As Pranmore predicted, the moment the necklace is removed, the woman falls, first hitting the table and then the floor.

Muffled exclamations of horror surround us, and I close my eyes when our fears are confirmed.

“She’s dead,” a man announces sagely.

“Does anyone have any questions?” Camellia asks.

A nearby woman snarls out a curse, clutching the necklace like it’s repulsive.

Camellia shakes her head, looking as if she’s dealing with a room full of disrespectful children. “If you don’t fight me, you will see I am a gentle ruler. I don’t wish harm or pain to come to any of you. If you defy me, please know you are bringing punishment upon yourself. Truly, I am blameless in the matter. Ultimately, it’s your choice if you suffer.”

Cold dread runs down my spine and then pools in my stomach. The humid room, which was swelteringly hot a few minutes ago, suddenly feels cold.

“Come along, Henrik. I believe we are done here.” To the room, Camellia says, “Please, feel free to stay and enjoy the refreshments I have prepared.”

I stare at her, barely able to form words. “Camellia…”

She takes my arm. “They’ll be fine. They just need a day or two to process.”

I want to yank away from her, but I’m just as trapped as the High Vale nobility.

As we walk, guilt churns in my gut, making me wonder if I should have killed her when I had the chance. After all, the princess was never truly unarmed. She’s been wielding a sharp, double-edged blade this whole time.

Did those people die because I was too cowardly to use the dagger?

“Now that we’ve cleaned up that mess with Augmirian, I believe I’d like to attend my brother’s wedding.” Camellia looks at me. “What do you think, Henrik? Would you like to see Clover?”

“You have become a wretched human being,” I say tonelessly.

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