Page 98 of Crown of Betrayal and Blood

I look to the guard standing at one of the many doors to the courtyard. “Is there some kind of trouble?”

He regards me with a seriousness that tightens my stomach. “The crown prince has been locked away with the royal council, sending pages and maids running back and forth for them. Everyone’s on edge. But nothing has been declared.”

Relief dizzies me. Until that moment, I didn’t realize how worried I was about what we’d find upon our return.

Bastian glances down the corridor. “Seems there’s never a dull moment.”

When we reach the first intersection of halls, we find a small grouping of nobles talking in hushed voices. They stop and stare at us as we pass.

“Wouldn’t know what to do with one if it came.” I try to shake off the heaviness.

Unease unfurls within me, a stark contrast to the happiness I felt moments ago. With every step toward Sterling, my anticipation builds, tempered now by the weight of the crown we both bear.

But as we reach the king’s wing, a subtle shift in atmosphere wraps around me like a shroud. The royal guards lining the hall scrutinize our every move. Their eyes seem to scrutinize me. Searching for what, I’m not entirely sure.

“Evening.” I flash them a wide smile while trying to decipher their moods.

All I get in return are flat expressions. Are those looks of expectation or suspicion? If only I could read human emotions as easily as dragons. The thought tickles me.

Imagine being bombarded with the secret feelings of everyone in this grand palace. No, thank you. That would be a clusterfuck.

Nearly laughing out loud at the absurdity, I turn down the corridor toward Bastian’s chambers. As we draw near, he stops and pulls me into a hug.

The gesture catches me off guard, and a knot of emotion forms in my throat. What would growing up with an older brother have been like?

At least I have him now. While no one can ever take my mother’s place, gaining Bastian helps soothe the sharpest cuts from her loss. Once we figure out how to heal Leesa of her corruption, I’ll have my sister back too.

“Keep your head up, Bastian.” I return the hug, then pull away. “I don’t know if using my tears will work on Leesa, or how to even go about it, but we’ll figure this out. First, though, I need to see Sterling.”

“Well, of course. You’re my sister. So I expect great things from you.” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but at least he’s trying. “I’m going to wash off the grime from our travels, then check in with the guards who’ve been with Leesa. Might see if I stumble on any helpful information about how phoenix tears work in the Royal Archives.”

“Let me know what you find out.”

With a wordless nod, he steps inside his chamber and closes the door.

My stomach growls, reminding me of its neglect, and I quicken my pace as I head to my own rooms. Once inside, I don’t waste any time before ringing for Rhiann.

In the bathing chamber, I splash cool water on my face and neck, scrubbing off the remnants of the journey. The sensation is grounding, a simple pleasure amid chaos.

For a moment, I cast a longing glance at the tub.

“Well?” Rhiann enters my bedchamber, remaining close to the door. “Was your trip a success?”

As usual, she doesn’t mince words.

“Yes, but there was an army at our backs. We had to run out of there as soon as we got what we needed. Seems trouble doesn’t know how to take a day off. But I have a lot to tell you. I’d prefer to explain once we’re all gathered.” I dry my hands and walk back into the bedchamber to face her. “How are things here?”

Rhiann’s expression remains as unreadable as ever behind the veil of duty. Her silver-streaked raven hair shines even in the low light, a stark contrast to her all-white mourning attire. “Agnar is outside Knox’s chambers, waiting.”

“Waiting?” My eyebrows knit together. What does that mean? “For what?”

“Perhaps you should go and inquire.” She tilts her head toward the door with an elegance that borders on evasion.

We shuffle through the halls, the palace’s opulence nearly hidden in the shadows cast by the combination of large lanterns and ever-lights hanging from the incredibly tall ceilings of the first floor.

Agnar’s tall frame comes into view first, his broad shoulders rolling with each agitated turn he takes while pacing before the guarded doors. His piercing blue eyes are dull with weariness, and my heart goes out to the man.

“Trying to wear a pattern in the floors?”

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