Protect the Prince (Crown of Shards #2)(23)

Or perhaps I could make it into a weakness without her even realizing it—until it was too late.

“Thank you, Felton. You’ve been most helpful.” I looked at Serilda. “Make sure the guards come and take away his boots.”

She grinned. “Happily.”

Felton surged forward and wrapped his hands around the bars. “What? No! You said that you would let me keep my boots if I helped you!”

I gave him the same cold, thin smile he had always given me right before he had ordered me to do something particularly unpleasant. “I lied. You don’t deserve to keep your precious boots, Felton. You don’t deserve anything at all. Not when you orchestrated the murders of so many innocent people, including Isobel. You’re lucky that I don’t let Serilda hack you to bits, and you’re even luckier that I don’t do it myself.”

He opened his mouth, but I held up my finger, and he actually swallowed his protests.

“If you say one more word, then I will cut those boots off you myself, and your toes along with them,” I hissed.

Felton’s eyes narrowed, and fury sparked in his black gaze. Then he took another look at my face. Whatever he saw there must have convinced him how serious I was, because he slowly backed away from the bars, as if he didn’t want to be anywhere near me. Smart man.

“Goodbye, Felton. I hope you enjoy your time in that cell. You’re going to be in there for the rest of your miserable life.”

I gave him another cold glare, then left him to rot.





Chapter Six


Serilda and I went back to Cho and the guards stationed at the dungeon entrance. I told them to remove Felton’s boots and to not be gentle about it. The guards grinned and headed toward his cell.

Felton started screaming less than a minute later. I let the sweet sounds of his suffering soak into my heart, then left.

I spent the rest of the day dealing with the aftermath of the assassination attempt. Meeting with the nobles and soothing their concerns, reviewing the kitchen staff and procedures with Theroux, and doing the same with Captain Auster and the guards.

My friends investigated as well, but they didn’t find out much. Libby had been working in the kitchen for about three months, which meant that Maeven had probably sent her to the palace as soon as I had become queen. Then the girl had just waited to get close enough to try to kill me.

Xenia thought that more Mortans might already be inside Seven Spire, waiting for their own opportunities to murder me, but I doubted it. Like Felton had said, Maeven was careful. She might have snuck Libby onto the kitchen staff, but she wouldn’t try the same trick twice. Besides, she had to realize that if the assassination attempt failed, we would question every single person at the palace. So I doubted there were any other Mortans here. No, Maeven would do something else the next time she tried to murder me.

Something worse.

But there was nothing I could do about that, so I moved on to something that I could control—my trip to Andvari.

Over dinner with my friends, I told them that I wanted to leave as soon as possible. I didn’t want to give Maeven another chance to try to kill me before I negotiated a new treaty with King Heinrich. Sullivan agreed to tell his father about the change in plans.

By the time we finished dinner, I was exhausted, so I retired to my chambers, where Calandre and her sisters were waiting.

The two girls plucked the pins out of my hair, and then Calandre mercifully lifted the crown off my head and set it on the vanity table. I resisted the urge to massage the heavy, lingering weight of it out of my scalp.

The silver band gleamed under the lights, while the tearstone shards looked like tiny blue swords jutting up from the metal. I touched one of the shards. The sharp point pricked my finger like a needle, drawing a drop of blood. I winced and pulled my hand away from the crown. I should have known better.

I should have known better about even taking the throne in the first place, but I pushed away those treacherous thoughts. It was far too late for regrets.

Calandre and her sisters pulled off my boots, along with my clothes, then wrapped me in a soft blue robe.

Paloma stood next to the vanity table with her mace propped up on her shoulder and watched the thread master and the two teenage girls to make sure they didn’t stab me with a dagger hidden up their sleeve or run a poisoned brush through my hair.

I thought the two girls were going to faint at the suspicious looks that Paloma and her inner ogre kept giving them, but they ran a warm bath for me and left, along with Calandre.

Once they were gone, Paloma prowled around my chambers, making sure that no assassins were lurking behind the curtains or hiding under the bed, even though she had already done that the moment we’d first entered. Once she was certain the room was secure, she left, although she told Alonzo and Bowen, the two guards posted outside, to be vigilant and not to let me go anywhere without summoning her.

I took a bath, changed into my nightclothes, and crawled into bed. I tucked my sword under one pillow and my dagger under the other one. The matching shield was propped up against my nightstand within easy reach.

Only when I was surrounded by weapons did I finally lay back against the pillows. To my surprise, I fell asleep quickly, although my dreams were just as dangerous as my day had been . . .

“Isn’t it lovely?” I asked in a high, excited voice.

Ansel, my tutor, looked out over the room. “Mmm. Yes, I suppose it is.”