Page 41 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood

Sweat beads on my brow, mingling with the dust of the training fields as I parry Agnar’s latest strike. His grin never falters, even as I counter with a swift jab at his exposed belly that he narrowly avoids.

“Better.” He huffs out the word, acknowledging the improvement in my technique.

“Your form’s improved since the drachen attack.” From the sidelines, Blair watches as we train.

“Survival tends to be an effective teacher.” My muscles hum with satisfaction, the tension from the throne room now a distant memory. With my gaze focused on Agnar, I nod to Bastian. “Thought you were supposed to be buried in parchment and prophecy?”

“Leesa’s ill, so she went to her chambers to rest.”

“Another headache?” A knot forms in my stomach at the mention of my sister’s ailment. She’s been pestered with severe headaches since we got back from the Lost City. Distracted, I glance away from my sparring partner to focus on Bastian. “Do the healers know what might help?”

Taking advantage of my distraction, Agnar lurches forward, this time with a swipe aimed at my arms. Flicking my wings, I throw myself back and a cloud of dust into his face.

Bastian’s steady voice doesn’t mask the worry lacing his words. “They’re hoping it’s just fatigue.”

“Or the aftershocks of the drachen’s terror.” It wouldn’t be the first time fear left its scars long after the threat had passed. “Agnar, have you suffered a strange illness or headaches since you were attacked? Any other pain?”

Agnar spits the dust from his mouth and continues his advance on me. “What are you talking about?”

“For lack of a better word, you were enthralled by the drachen.” I block his sword and push it down. The weapon slips to his side. I’m forced to jump as he rights the weapon and strikes before I’m ready to block. “I’m just wondering if lingering effects may be at the root of my sister’s headaches.”

Agnar isn’t pulling any punches today. “My head’s fine. But if you have air to talk, then you’re not fighting hard enough.” He advances, once, twice, three times, forcing me to focus on my sword and keeping his blows from landing.

When I’m not fast enough, he lands a blow on my ribs with the blunt side of his sword, enough to knock the air from my lungs. My flight training kicks in before he can strike again. I flick one wing, spinning myself out of his reach.

“Not bad. You keep this up, and we’ll be able to start flying sword training next.” After saluting me with his weapon, Agnar glances at Bastian. “You won’t always have a dragon as backup. Even dragonriders need to know how to fight in the sky. Especially if Aclaris ends up breaking the peace accord. Come train with us more often. I could teach you one-on-one, get you up to speed faster.”

The offer is sweet. As one of Sterling’s most trusted soldiers and also one of his closest friends, Agnar had to pick up a lot of extra work since the crown prince had to leave his command behind and take over his brother’s royal duties. “I will every chance I get. But there’s a lot to get done. Right now, I think I need to check with the healers and find out if there are more people who survived the drachen attack that have the same symptoms as my sister.”

Stepping to the edge of the field, I salute Agnar with my short sword before sheathing it.

Agnar shrugs and gestures for another soldier to come forward. “Offer stands. Whenever you find time, send word.”

With a nod to my comrades, I leave the training fields behind and head back to the king’s wing. If I’m worried about Leesa, Mother must be beside herself. And since she knew about this before I did, I decide to head to her chambers first to ask her about what’s going on. My mother always knows what to do in situations like these.

I’m halfway there when a piercing scream shatters the air, freezing me in my tracks.

ChapterFifteen

Heartbeat thundering in my ears, I race down the hall, sucking air into my lungs in sharp gasps. A hysterical sob from a connecting hallway punctures the beat of silence that followed the scream, and I skid to another halt and summon my magic. The familiar power hums beneath my skin, heating my blood while waiting to be unleashed.

Creeping now, I approach the intersection and peek around the corner. One of the palace maids kneels in the middle of the marble floor with her face buried in her hands and her shoulders heaving.

I race over and drop to my knees by her side. “Are you okay? What happened?”

I don’t notice any blood or injuries, but they could be hidden from view.

In response, she lifts a trembling finger and points down the hall toward the next intersection. “She’s…she’s…”

Another sob swallows her words, and as I rise to my feet, a warning bell begins to clamor in my skull. Somewhere in the distance, armor clanks, announcing the guards’ imminent arrival, but I don’t wait. I’m not sure why, but the dread snaking through my limbs grows stronger with every stride as I follow the maid’s silent instructions and jog down the hall.

This time, I round the bend without slowing my pace. I only manage two steps before my legs fail me.

Gradually, my brain registers the details.

A crumpled body sprawls over the cold, unforgiving marble like a discarded doll. A woman’s body. She lies still. Too still. Blood drips from her neck into the crimson pool staining the floor.

Her blue gown appears freshly pressed, her makeup perfect. If it weren’t for the blood and her unmoving chest, one could almost believe she was sleeping.

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