Page 17 of Princess of Thorns and Ruin

“They want him to escort you back to France.”

A shiver shakes through me at the somber tone of his voice. Royal guards exist outside of our army’s normal command structure, and most of them are better skilled at violence than protection.

Jason peers over the railing to the tortuous path leading to the house. “Look. He’s already here.”

In the distance, a tall silhouette stalks from the fog, each step confident and soundless. The soldier walks exactly as my father’s guards used to—with deadly intent. A nervous shiver slices through me, and I rub my arms. Long-forgotten memories rise to the surface.

A guard plucks me from my bed and throws me over his shoulders. A scream tears from my throat, and I ram my small fists against his large, gargantuan back, but he drags me to a cold and dark closet and crushes his palm to my mouth until I taste blood on my tongue. The thick red carpet lining the closet chafes my knees.

A cold patch prickles my neck. The man didn’t hurt me. In fact, he was just doing his job, but the aftermath was no better for it.

The guard becomes bigger and bigger until he disappears beyond the corner of the estate. Another minute passes before he marches onto the balcony with long strides. A thick pair of aviator sunglasses obscures his face, and shadows thicken around the edges of his skin like a personal devil travels behind him, his large shoulders highlighted by his fancy suit. A black undershirt hugs his torso, and the red lines on the turn-down collar mark him as a high-ranking member of the royal guard.

He bows his head as he draws near, greeting me according to my rank. “Alec Beaumont, at your service, your royal highness.”

The moonlight finally reaches his face and licks the sharp angle of his jaw, a discreet earpiece tucked in his right ear.

My eyes narrow at the mention of his surname. “Is my brother well?” I coat my words up in thick ice so my fear doesn’t pierce through.

The Beaumont brothers have got a terrible reputation, and of the three of them, Alec is the most…infamous. Strong and deadly on the battlefield, but arrogant and impetuous at court. Why would Victor send his best assassin to protect me?

Alec Beaumont braces his hands at his front, a gun tucked in a holster at his right hip. “Yes. The king is eager to see you and asked me to escort you back to the castle.”

“Why is a royal guard needed for a simple plane ride?” I ask.

“I obey orders, princess. I do not pretend to understand them.” The sharp edge in his voice is a direct jab at my brother’s choice. Clearly, he’s as displeased by the situation as I am.

Jason cuts in. “Watch your tone, Beaumont.”

The difference between the two vampires is glaring. Royals are usually thin, and Jason is no exception, whereas Alec Beaumont is all length and muscles.

I turn to my cousin. “Is there a specific threat? Am I in danger?”

Jason slides back a few feet, putting more distance between him and Alec. “I don’t know, your highness.”

My blood races at my temples. He’s lying. We might not have become friends during my stay, but I’ve never seen him so jumpy.

“You’re hiding something from me, I can tell. Tell me what you know,” I order.

Jason rubs his hand over his beard, taken aback by my guile, but I’m a full-fledged vampire now, and I do outrank him.

“With Ludovic’s death, the Zhaos have been sniffing around the island…” he trails off.

“Why wasn’t I informed?”

“The king and prime minister thought better not to trouble you with politics.”

The sexist bastards. I knew they’d pull this kind of nonsense.

Beaumont clears his throat. He stood so still and silent while Jason and I were arguing that I had almost forgotten he was there. Vampires are attuned to movements, making it easy for us to track our prey… The royal guard clearly knows how to use that to his advantage.

“I have orders from the king. We shall leave immediately,” he says.

“I haven’t packed—”

“Your staff can pack your things. Take only what is necessary for the voyage, and we’ll leave at once.”

“Is that wise?” Jasons asks.

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