Page 46 of Fall of the Ember Throne (Crown and Crest 3)

“That depends…” he says slowly.

“I want Barret.”

Calla’s eyes widen, and she presses her lips together to hide her pleasure.

She likely thinks it’s a kindness to put her with her new love, but I have another reason for choosing the knight—if they’re distracted with each other, maybe they’ll give me a little space. If I can find a way to get rid of Lavender and Hyacinth, I might have some time to myself.

“Barret is an excellent choice,” Miguel says to Lawrence. “He’s strong with a sword, and he’s coolheaded in tense situations.”

“Very well.” Lawrence turns to Calla. “Go fetch him, please. I’m assuming you know where he is?”

She blushes deep red as she hurries from the courtyard.

The king then turns back to me, hesitating like he wants to say something.

“Tell my steward my plans,” he says to his knights. Then he nods to Lavender and Hyacinth. “Please excuse us.”

The knights hesitate.

“I’m not helpless,” Lawrence says, growing frustrated. “I can manage the courtyard on my own.”

Apparently, I’m not the only one feeling suffocated.

“There are guards on the walls and all the entrances,” he adds. “We’re fine.”

“Very well,” Miguel says reluctantly.

The knights leave with the ladies, and we finally have a moment alone.

“Are you sure you want to accompany us?” Lawrence asks me. “It could be…unpleasant.”

“You don’t think Henrik will still want me?” I ask with a smile.

Inside, though, I’m dying a little.

Lawrence looks away, irritated. “I mean he’s still chained to Camellia, and you’re still betrothed to me. You must act the part until we agree to break the engagement.”

“I won’t bring shame on you or the crown,” I say quietly. “I will act according to my current position—I promise.”

He sighs, looking back. “If I ask you to stay here, will you?”

“Don’t ask,” I beg softly.

Lawrence studies me, and I watch him right back. He’s so handsome—it’s impossible to deny. Since our trip to Ferradelle, he’s been pulling his hair into a knot at the back of his head like he doesn’t have patience for it any longer. It brings the focus to his face and makes him look more rugged.

“I feel like I’m losing you,” he says after several seconds pass. “I’m not ready.”

“Lawrence…”

He smiles, looking at the ground between us. “I could keep you, you know. I’m the king—I can have whatever I want.”

“I trust you to uphold your end of the bargain.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Are you nervous about seeing Camellia?” I ask, needing to change the subject.

Lawrence snorts out a laugh. “Our relationship won’t change just because she wants me dead.”

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