Protect the Prince (Crown of Shards #2)(40)



King Heinrich stared at me for several long seconds. Finally, he tipped his head the smallest bit, and I dropped into the perfect Bellonan curtsy, as protocol dictated. I held the curtsy far longer than necessary, silently apologizing for Vasilia’s cruel, wicked actions. Then I rose to my feet and looked up at the king again.

Heinrich studied me from head to toe, taking in everything from my modest tunic to my tearstone weapons to my black boots. Eventually, his gaze locked onto the thin crown on my head. A frown creased his face, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to make of me, although his features quickly melted into a more neutral expression. Not friendly, but not hostile either. The best I could expect, given the circumstances.

“Queen Everleigh, welcome to Glitnir,” Heinrich said in a loud, booming voice.

“Thank you for hosting me, King Heinrich. You and your people honor me with your hospitality.”

Several nobles let out loud, derisive snorts.

“Perhaps we should show her the same hospitality that her cousin showed Frederich,” a low, angry voice muttered.

I looked to my right. To my surprise, it wasn’t one of the nobles who had spoken—it was Captain Rhea.

I hadn’t seen her enter, but she was now standing at the bottom of the dais, close to Dominic.

She realized that I’d heard her, that everyone had heard her, but instead of ducking her head in embarrassment, she lifted her chin and shot me a venomous glare. She obviously held a grudge for what had happened to the Andvarians. I’d expected that, but she seemed to be taking their deaths very personally.

I stared at Rhea, letting her know that I wasn’t intimidated by the hate burning in her eyes, then faced the king again. I didn’t say anything, and neither did he. The seconds ticked by, and the tension grew and grew.

I glanced up at the second-floor balcony. Serilda, Cho, Xenia, and Paloma were clustered together, along with the rest of the Bellonan entourage, all of them surrounded by Andvarian guards. Sullivan was standing by himself in the corner, once again not a part of either group.

For the first time, I realized just how precarious my position was. My friends couldn’t help me, given the distance between us, and I was completely exposed and vulnerable in front of the dais. With one word, one flick of his finger, King Heinrich could order his guards to surge forward and punch their spears through my heart.

I opened my mouth to break the silence and try to ease the tension when the scent of sour, sweaty eagerness filled my nose. Not an unusual scent, given all the schemes that were probably hatched in the palace on a daily basis, but the aroma was far stronger than it should have been.

So I drew in another breath, and a second scent joined that first one—hot, jalape?o rage. The sharp, fiery scent cut through all the others, indicating a deep well of emotion that belonged to a single person. And just like at Seven Spire, I knew exactly what it meant.

Someone here wanted me dead.





Chapter Ten


I drew in another breath, tasting the air again, but the scents remained the same—sour, sweaty eagerness and hot, jalape?o rage. The longer I concentrated on the aromas, the more I realized that the strongest one was the rage.

My gaze cut left and right, wondering who bore me such ill will. But there were simply too many people for me to pick out exactly who the scent belonged to, unless I went around and started sniffing people like a bloodhound. Now that would really give the Andvarians something to gossip about.

Captain Rhea glared at me again, then looked up at the king. “I still don’t know why you let her come here.” She spat out the words. “You should have let me kill her the moment she stepped off the train. Not let her waltz into the throne room like nothing happened to your son. Like my father and the others weren’t murdered.”

My stomach clenched. Her father had been slaughtered at Seven Spire? No wonder she hated me.

“Your father was a dear friend and a great ambassador for our people,” Heinrich said. “I have not forgotten what happened to him.”

I grimaced. He was talking about Lord Hans. So that’s who Rhea’s father was. It made sense that the ambassador’s daughter would hold such a high position at Glitnir.

“But your insults and theatrics won’t do the dead any good.” Heinrich leaned forward and speared her with a cold gaze. “I am the king, and I make the decisions. Not you, Rhea. You would be wise to remember that.”

She flushed at the sharp, stinging rebuke, but that didn’t solve my problem. I had to do something to show everyone that I wasn’t afraid of Heinrich or Rhea or the guards. Otherwise, Maeven wouldn’t be the only one trying to kill me, and my mission would be doomed before it ever really started.

“Perhaps there is a way we can settle this unpleasantness,” I said. “Once and for all.”

“And what would you suggest?” Dominic spoke up, his blue gaze locking with mine. “Tell me, Queen Everleigh, what could possibly make my brother’s murder and the attempted murder of my daughter any less unpleasant?”

His voice was cold and authoritative as he mocked me with my own words. He might be nicknamed Prince Charming, but he certainly wasn’t being that to me. As much as I wanted to snap back at him, I focused on the king again. Heinrich was the one who was important right now, not Dominic.

“I came here to formally, publicly apologize for Vasilia’s actions, which lead to the deaths of your son, Prince Frederich, and your ambassador, Lord Hans, as well as the rest of the Andvarian entourage.”

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