Protect the Prince (Crown of Shards #2)(63)

Helene studied me for a moment. Then her lips creased into a sly smile, and she headed after Sullivan.

Rhea glanced at me, then focused on Dominic. A muscle ticked in her jaw, and she too whirled around and strode away, heading in the opposite direction from Sullivan and Helene.

Dominic and I stayed silent for a few seconds, listening to the sound of their footsteps fade away.

“I don’t think that could have possibly gone any worse,” I muttered.

“Of course it could have gone worse,” Dominic said. “Sullivan could have blasted me with his lightning, or Rhea could have stabbed me with her sword. Or both.”

I snorted. “I think we both know I’m the one Rhea wants to stab.”

We looked at each other. Dominic’s lips twitched, and he chuckled. Yeah, me too. Better to laugh than cry, especially given this tragic comedy of errors and misunderstandings.

“You seem to care a great deal about Lucas,” Dominic said after we’d both stopped laughing.

There was no point in denying it. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to everyone,” he teased.

I rolled my eyes. If he had been anyone else, I would have punched him in the arm, but I’d already screwed up enough things tonight without assaulting the crown prince. “I could say the same thing about you and Rhea.”

He sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to everyone,” I teased him back.

Dominic smiled a little at that, but he didn’t laugh again. He couldn’t, and neither could I.

“How long?” I asked.

“I don’t know exactly. I was devastated when Merilde, my wife, died, two years ago. Rhea was Merilde’s best friend, and we helped each other deal with her loss. Eventually, one day, I just . . . noticed Rhea in a way I never had before. What about you and Lucas?”

I shrugged. “I broke into his house and stole his jacket, along with one of his pillows. He found me sleeping in the corner the next morning. Needless to say, he was not pleased.”

“I bet he wasn’t. Lucas never liked anyone going into his room or taking his things without asking, not even his toys when we were children.”

Dominic smiled again at those memories, but the warm expression quickly faded from his face. “But we can’t think about Lucas or Rhea.”

“No, we can’t,” I whispered. “No, we can’t.”

We stood there in silence for a moment before Dominic cleared his throat, changing the subject.

“You should think about my father’s proposal.”

I reared back in surprise. “About marrying you?”

He nodded. “You don’t know me, but the two of us want the same thing—to protect our kingdoms from Morta. Together, I think we can do that.”

I drew in a breath, tasting his scent, which was filled with lime truthfulness. He really did want to protect his people—and mine—from the Mortans, and he would do whatever was necessary to make it happen. I admired his determination and his willingness to do his duty, even if he was dooming us both in the process, along with Sullivan and Rhea.

A faint grin curved his lips. “Besides, you seem pleasant, and I can be quite charming, in case you haven’t heard. I think we would get on together well enough.”

“Oh, yes. I had heard that about you, but charming only goes so far when you’re talking about marriage.”

He grimaced, and his grin slowly faded away. “True enough. I should get back to the dining hall and check on my father and Gemma.” He hesitated. “Just . . . think about what I said. Please, Everleigh?”

“I will.” I paused. “And I suppose that I should retire to my chambers before I start any more fights tonight.”

He grinned at my black humor. I smiled back at him, and together, we turned to leave.

We’d taken only a few steps when a blond woman hurried into the library. For a moment, I thought she was one of the palace guards. But her head was down, hiding her face, and she was moving much more quickly than usual. But the thing that really caught my eye was the fact that her sword was clutched in her hand rather than holstered on her belt.

Several more guards followed her into the library, cutting Dominic and me off from the exit. I drew in a breath. The guards all reeked of sour, nervous sweat, along with vinegary tension and sharp tangs of magic.

I’d smelled that combination of scents before—on the turncoat guards roaming the halls of Seven Spire the day of the royal massacre.

“Guards?” Dominic called out in a confused voice. “Is something wrong?”

He started toward the blond woman, but I grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“Those aren’t your guards,” I said.

The woman lifted her head, and that’s when I realized that she had one familiar feature—amethyst eyes. She grinned, then twirled her sword around in her hand and advanced on us. The men surrounding her drew their weapons and did the same.

They were Mortan assassins—and they were here to kill me.





Chapter Fourteen


Dominic stood there, his eyes wide, frozen in place, as if he couldn’t believe that he was being attacked in his own palace. I could have told him that this wasn’t about him and that Maeven had sent these assassins to kill me, since she hadn’t managed to do it at Seven Spire, but I didn’t get the chance.