Page 87 of Fall of the Ember Throne (Crown and Crest 3)

“What do you want?”

“I want you to meet with Clover again,” Camellia says, smiling. “Somewhere dark and illicit—lure her into a trap. Seduce her, Henrik, so I can ruin her.”

My hand moves to my sword once more, and this time, I’m not sure I can stop it. Suddenly, Brielle cries out, screaming like she’s been stabbed.

Immediately, I raise my hands, surrendering as I shake with fury. Brielle gasps out a sob, and my vision blurs with hatred.

“On your knees,” Camellia commands.

I do as she asks, lowering myself before the sorceress. From the corner of my eye, behind Camellia, Brielle, and Dalvin, I spot movement. Keeping my head lowered, I focus on Maisel. She clenches her hand axe, moving toward Camellia on silent feet.

I subtly shake my head, begging her to reconsider for my sister’s sake. It would only take a heartbeat for Camellia to kill Brielle. And even if she didn’t, I don’t believe Dalvin would hesitate to use his blade.

Maisel glances at my sister, pursing her lips before she reluctantly nods. Then she slips into the study, disappearing just as quickly as she came—hopefully to find Clover.

“Oh, Henrik, you brought this on yourself, you know,” Camellia says as she strokes my hair. “If you’d obeyed me, I might have considered leaving Clover alone. Lawrence is so taken with her, after all. I can be benevolent.”

I close my eyes, focusing on the sound of Brielle’s tears, ashamed and so angry I almost can’t contain my rage.

Camellia runs her hand along my face, caressing my cheek before she strikes me with the back of her hand. Her ring catches my cheek, stinging like poison, but I don’t flinch.

“Stand,” she commands.

I do as she asks, meeting her eyes, silently vowing I will destroy her. A trickle of warm blood runs down my face. The princess studies it, looking half intoxicated. She then wraps her hand around the back of my neck and drags me down like she expects a kiss. But her lips meet my cheek instead of my mouth, pressing over the bead of blood.

When Camellia pulls back, her lips are stained red. She presses them together as if savoring the taste, and then she smiles. “Write Clover a message. Tell her you’ll meet her tonight.”

21

CLOVER

I’m dozing on the chaise longue in my sitting room, exhausted from the long night, when there’s a knock at the outer door. I peek an eye open, dreading the idea of visitors.

My ladies are in the room with me, pursuing proper feminine pursuits such as sketching and needlework while I nap.

“Maybe it’s Barret,” Calla says eagerly, leaping to her feet.

The knight has been absent much of the morning. Though it certainly wasn’t my intention, I’m sure I humiliated him when I slipped away last night. He’s supposed to be protecting me, and I ended up in a holding cell in a constable’s office in the old district of the city. It can’t look good for him. I’ll apologize sometime when we’re alone. If I do it now, amongst the ladies, I’ll only embarrass him further.

Calla greets the caller, and I begin to doze once more.

A sudden hard shove to my shoulder jolts me, and I bolt upright, snapping, “What?”

Then I realize it’s Denny.

“Get up,” my brother says. “You can sleep later.”

“What’s wrong?” I demand, hurrying to my feet even though my head is still fuzzy.

“Where are we going?” Lavender asks.

“I’m taking Clover to speak with Lawrence,” Denny answers. “It will be best if you remain here.”

Startled by my brother’s tone, Lavender nods dumbly.

“What’s going on?” I demand the moment we’re alone in the hall.

“Camellia found out you met Henrik last night.”

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