Protect the Prince (Crown of Shards #2)(30)

“Felton didn’t know exactly how many people are in your Bastard Brigade, but it doesn’t really matter.”

“And why is that?” Maeven snapped, finally rising to my bait.

I stopped and looked at her again. “Because none of you will ever sit on the Mortan throne. So who cares if your king’s orders get you and your cousins slaughtered like sheep?”

She blinked, as though she had never thought of it that way. Her brow furrowed, and her arms slowly dropped to her sides.

“For as miserable as my life was here, Cordelia never ordered me to do anything more strenuous than make polite chitchat. But you? I can’t even imagine the horrible things you’ve done for your king. What’s it like? Going hither and yon on your brother’s orders and doing his dirty work while he sits in his palace in Morta?” I shook my head and clucked my tongue in false sympathy. “It doesn’t seem like much of a life to me. Then again, I don’t suppose that many in the Bastard Brigade make it to ripe old ages. Face it, Maeven. Your life doesn’t matter, and neither do the lives of your bastard relatives. Not to your king.”

But my insults certainly mattered a great deal to Maeven. Rage sparked in her eyes and stained her cheeks a dark, ugly red. Her hands curled into fists, and purple lightning crackled along her knuckles, as though she was thinking about blasting me with her magic.

I didn’t know if her lightning would actually come through the mirror, but I tightened my grip on my sword and reached for my own immunity, ready to defend myself.

“It matters, we matter, I matter because I am proud to serve!” Maeven hissed. “Morta is stronger than Bellona will ever be, and soon we will crush you and swallow up your pathetic kingdom!”

I gave her a thin, razor-sharp smile. “We’ll see about that. Although I’ve always wondered exactly why it was so important to Morta to conquer all the other kingdoms. And why specifically target Bellona and the Blair family? You have plenty of land, magic, and resources. Why not be happy with all that you have?”

Maeven tilted her head to the side, studying me as if I were some exotic creature in a menagerie that she’d never seen before. She let out a soft, sinister laugh. “You still don’t know, do you? What being a Winter queen really means?”

“Then tell me.” This time, I was the one who couldn’t keep the anger, questions, and frustration out of her voice.

The nobles might not realize that I was a pretender, but Maeven certainly did. She knew that I was only queen because of Vasilia’s arrogance and failure to kill me during the massacre.

She laughed again, and the mocking sound scraped against my skin like sandpaper. “Oh, no, Everleigh. You’ll have to figure that out on your own. Although you’ll be dead long before you know what it really means to be a Winter queen, much less actually become one.”

Become one? How could I become something I already was? Every word she said only confused me more.

Maeven opened her mouth, as if she was going to taunt me again, but then she looked off to the right at something I couldn’t see through the mirror. She nodded, almost as if she was signaling to someone, then focused on me again.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed our little chat, I have other things to attend to,” she purred. “But I’ll leave you with a piece of advice—you should wear your crown as often as possible.”

I couldn’t help but ask the obvious question. “And why is that?”

She leaned forward so that her face was close to the mirror. Magic crackled in her amethyst eyes, and a mocking smile curved her lips. “Because you won’t be alive to wear it much longer, Queen Everleigh.”

I stepped up to the mirror, but before I could deliver some clever, cutting remark, Maeven waved her hand. A silver light exploded in the center of the mirror, so bright that I had to turn away from it. By the time I looked back at the glass, the light had vanished, taking Maeven along with it, and the mirror was just a mirror again.

My nemesis was gone, but I knew that it wouldn’t be long before Maeven and her Bastard Brigade tried to kill me again.





Part Two

The Second Assassination Attempt





Chapter Eight


We left for Andvari three days later.

I stood in the main palace courtyard, watching trunks being loaded onto wagons. Calandre and her sisters flitted from one trunk and wagon to the next, making sure they contained the necessary clothing, fabrics, and other supplies. I’d told Calandre that she and her sisters didn’t have to go to Andvari, but she had said she would never forgive herself if she let me go to another royal court without the proper servants and attire.

My friends were here too. Sullivan and Xenia were talking and sipping mugs of mochana, while Serilda, Cho, and Paloma were speaking with some of the gladiators-turned-guards who were staying at Seven Spire.

“You should let me come with you,” Auster said. “It’s my duty to protect you.”

I looked at the captain, who had been pleading his case for the last five minutes. “I need you to stay here, Auster. The nobles respect you. Even better, they fear you, along with your guards. I need you to keep the peace between Fullman, Diante, and everyone else and make sure that the palace stays secure. It won’t do me any good to broker a treaty with the Andvarians if I don’t have a throne to come back to.”