Page 96 of Fall of the Ember Throne (Crown and Crest 3)

I turn to Audra. “How have you put up with him all these months?”

She smirks when Ayan pretends to be offended. “It hasn’t been easy.”

Up ahead, a woman in black turns the corner, and I look her way, leery. Hellebore pauses when she spots us, and then she lowers her head and continues. Though it’s obvious she doesn’t wish to linger, she walks slowly as if it’s painful for her to move any faster. But in her haste to be past us, she stumbles.

Ayan darts his hand out, grasping her elbow to keep her from falling. The High Vale looks like she’s going to yank away from him, but her expression freezes when she sees his face. She stares up at him, her thin, pale lips parting.

“It’s all right,” he says with a grin, unaffected by her haggard appearance. “I’m used to women falling for me.”

She lets out a scratchy noise—the first sound I’ve ever heard her make.

Ayan’s bright smile turns to concern. “Madame, are you all right?”

“Ayan,” Audra says quietly. “You’re making her uncomfortable.”

Hellebore begins to shake violently, and then her eyes flutter…and she passes out.

Ayan catches her before she hits her head on the floor, and then he scoops her into his arms like he’s carrying a doll. Startled, he says, “Well, that’s a first.”

“This is Hellebore,” I say nervously. “Camellia’s handmaid. You haven’t seen her in Revalane?”

“Ayan’s never been to Palace Eloudore,” Lyredon reminds me.

“I’ve been,” Ayan argues, and then he gives a half-hearted laugh, studying the frail woman. “Just not recently.”

Audra frowns. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her either.”

“She’s a bit reclusive,” I say. “And she’s mute, so it’s difficult for her to converse. But that doesn’t matter right now. We best take her to Pranmore.”

When we arrive, we find Lawrence’s four elite outside the door.

“Lawrence is inside?” I ask Denny, relieved.

My brother takes in our strange group, his eyes drifting to Hellebore’s still-unconscious form, and then he nods. “He is.”

“That saves us the trouble of fetching him.” I push through the door, pausing when I see Lawrence and Pranmore seated at the elf’s tea table, looking very solemn.

They glance over like I’ve interrupted something, and I pause. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Did you see Henrik—” Lawrence cuts himself off when he realizes I’m not alone. His eyes drift behind me, and he stands. “Audra.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Your Kingliness,” Ayan says, stepping inside. “Congratulations on the crown.”

Audra comes in behind him, her eyes going between Lawrence and Pranmore. But this isn’t the time for reunions.

Before Audra can say anything, Ayan looks down at Hellebore and asks, “Where should I put her?”

Pranmore leaps to his feet, gesturing for Ayan to follow him into the room he’s been using for the occasional patient. Most go to the court physician, but some—especially the female some—seem to prefer to visit the Woodmore.

Ayan places Hellebore on the bed, resting her head carefully on the pillow. “Should I cover her with a blanket? She’s like ice.”

“What happened?” Pranmore asks me as he nods to Ayan.

“I’m not certain,” I say. “She was passing us in the hall, and then she fainted.”

“She’s Camellia’s handmaid, isn’t she?”

“That’s right.”

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