Page 144 of The Turncoat King

The golden brocade gown had slid off the queen’s shoulder, and Ava saw the black silk edging on the bodice of the chemise.

Suddenly, as if getting a second wind, the queen batted at Ava to get her to shuffle back and then struggled up on an elbow. “What are you waiting for?” She pointed at the palace guards. “Kill him.” She moved her finger to Herron.

The guards hesitated.

“Kill. Him.”

They moved together, one striking Herron’s neck, the other his torso.

He went down with a cry and lay beside the queen, blinking slowly and then he closed his eyes.

The queen started to laugh, and then coughed, blood spraying from her lips. “The queen is dead,” she said, her voice a weak croak. “Long live the queen.”

Ava rose to her feet, frowning at the words.

“Going to kill her, too, warlord?” Her aunt turned her head to Luc. Laughed again and then fell silent.

The palace guards who had killed Herron stood, anchorless and confused.

“What should we do?” The one who Luc had tripped this morning asked.

“Take off my restraints.” Ava held out her hands, and the man couldn’t move fast enough to get them off.

“And them?” The other guard asked, pointing to Luc and Oscar.

“They are on my side.”

“Then who is against us?” The guard lowered his sword.

“Are any of you against me?” Ava asked the crowd.

There were murmurs. It sounded like plenty were against her, but none brave enough to step forward.

“I was just getting used to you being a princess.” Luc turned in a circle as he spoke, looking for threats. “Now you’re a queen.”

“Funny.” She turned as well, watching the roofs and walls for shooters, but if they were there, they weren’t shooting.

Perhaps because their paymasters were both lying dead at Ava’s feet.

“What should we do now?” The guard asked her.

“Now, you should go open the city gates.”

Chapter 40

“I’ve put the clothes you came in on the bed for you.” Lucinde called.

“Thank you.” Ava rinsed off her arms in the bath. She listened for Lucinde’s footsteps to leave the room, and for the door to swing shut before she stood.

She didn’t have time to linger in the hot water, although she really would have loved to.

She wiped herself down with the linen cloth Lucinde had set out for her, and wrapped it under her armpits.

She stopped short when she stepped out from behind the screen and found a man standing beside her window.

“The messenger from the Grimwalt Court.” She should have remembered he was somewhere in the city. She knew this was his likely destination when he’d run from the Rising Wave.

Too much going on, she acknowledged to herself. Too many balls in the air.

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