Page 133 of Merciless Is My Crown

ANARIA

The Shadow King’s throne room was every bit as hideous as I remembered.

My heart thundered as I studied Zorander’s bruised face, unreadable as he stared straight ahead at the monster who’d controlled him—controlled all of them—their entire lives.

I was relatively untouched.

Lyrae had slapped me, only once, before a furiously cursing Zor had launched himself at her, Crux laughing softly as he’d shoved him back against the wall. My lip was split down the middle, but everyone else was a mess. Crux and his soldiers had worked them over, every inch of their bodies bruised and bleeding as we limped toward the throne.

His court jeered from the balcony as we were led up the main aisle by the king’s personal guard, pelted with apples and ale and gods know what else. Money changed hands, and from the audience’s grinning faces, the wagers were on who would die first, not that any of us would survive.

Crux made it a point to escort us through the gauntlet himself, a smiling Lyrae waiting beside the Shadow King, her uniform impeccable, hair as smooth as a fish’s gleaming scales.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured loudly to Zor. “I’m so, so sorry. I thought this plan would work.”

Zor’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing. Behind me, though, Tavion rasped, “It’s okay, Anaria. If this is how we go out, then at least we’re all going together. As it should be.”

“You’re the most pathetic bunch of assassins I’ve ever seen.” Crux was giddy, drunk on his success. “Honestly, I expected better, given your reputations, but I guess even the king’s favorite general can be led astray by a sweet piece of pussy.”

Zor growled low in his throat, fury sparking in his swollen-shut eyes.

“But look at you now. Lyrae heard you were coming, and I was ready. Swept you up like a brace of rabbits in a snare. Zorander Vayle, on his knees in front of me as I deliver your death blow in front of the entire court. I’ve waited for this for a long, long time.”

His cruel gaze caught fire as his eyes slid to Raziel. “I was there that day, you know. I saw everything.”

Raz went still, not looking at Crux, his body tight as a bowstring.

“I watched the king weld that collar on you. Raziel, the once-great commander, reduced to a piece of shite slave. Now you’re twice a traitor and there won’t be any collars today, boyo. Only my sword through your neck.”

“Don’t you ever shut up?” I dodged a chunk of bread, thrown by the jeering courtiers, and felt a surge of satisfaction when it hit Crux in the face. “You literally haven’t stopped yapping since yesterday. I swear, you love to listen to yourself talk, don’t you?”

Crux cuffed me on the back of the head and Zorander tackled him, knocking him into a bench of jeering courtiers, both of them crashing into a tangle of silk and lace and frantic males scrambling to get away.

Crux took a solid minute to get himself extricated from the pile, and when he jerked Zor to his feet, Zor grinned savagely. “Couldn’t let that bastard put his hands on you, Anaria.”

We began our death march all over again, close enough now to see the Shadow King’s merciless expression, his dark eyes glinting with rabid expectation as we approached.

He lived for these moments.

A few hours every week where he could bask in his power and ruthlessness in front of his fawning court, where his subjects trembled—absolutely trembled—in his presence. How long had this gone on?

Too fucking long.

And the cheering crowd—they thrived on the carnage as much as the king did, so long as his eye wasn’t turned toward them. I suspected today was an especially good day since none of them were at risk.

Lyrae’s sword was already out, gleaming like a sliver of silver light, as if she’d polished that wicked blade especially for today.

The king rose and an expectant hush fell over the crowd. He was in his very best, silver fox furs and an embroidered waistcoat, his long dark hair gathered back in a series of silver, engraved bands.

A big, heavy ring on every finger.

I’d seen those rings up close, studied them. Each contained a protective rune against an attack, surrounding the Shadow King with a virtually impenetrable shield.

He had his two vicious protectors, but he had magic, too.

Even when he locked it away from everyone else.

“People of Solarys. I have delivered what I promised. A united realm. My brother is dead and Caladrius is ours. In a short time my armies will march west and claim the land in my name. Soon, our borders will expand, as will our people.”

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