Page 1 of Sword of Desire
Harley
Harley stood on the open gorge tower. Everything had started here. The wind whipped around her body as the memories flooded in. Her brother’s beheading, her cousins’ brutal murders, and her aunt and uncle slaughtered before an army of cheering Russeks. She pinched her eyes shut, remembering how the blood poured down the side of the stone wall that fateful day Lyle, her own husband, had seized control of the royal castle.
Opening her eyes, she scanned the tents below. If she’d estimated correctly, there were a hundred tents which equated to about two hundred soldiers. She stepped closer to the half-wall, sliding her hands over the thick, rough stones.
So much bloodshed and heartache had happened here. She blinked the tears away, unable to believe she was at the royal castle again. This time, she was not here as a guest of the king and queen. Rather, she was the wife of the false king. Lyle had informed her she would be crowned in an elaborate ceremony shortly after he returned. He’d been gone for almost two weeks now, and Harley expected him at any moment.
Shortly after Lyle killed Ledger, he’d gathered twenty soldiers and left, furious that both units he’d sent out had failed to assassinate their intended targets. He wanted to investigate what had gone wrong. Harley prayed Owen and Idina had made it safely to Kreng where they could seek refuge, guarded by the army there. She also hoped Ackley and Gytha were safely hiding in Kricok, protected by the Emperion empire.
Harley’s hands started shaking. Did Ackley love her? Or had he only used her? Those two questions had been lingering in her mind, demanding an answer she couldn’t give. Regardless, she had a job to do, and she would do it.
Ackley had given her Sword of Rage. During their time together, he’d been carefully feeding her information—like where to strike a man to kill him swiftly. The only conclusion she could fathom was that Ackley had known, or at least suspected, Lyle had taken the throne. Ackley had purposely embedded her with the enemy to kill Lyle. He had even said the more dangerous assassin was the one sleeping with the king, not the one sneaking into the castle.
Which meant the weight of the kingdom fell to her.
She needed to pretend to be loyal and passive toward her husband, so he didn’t view her as a threat to his stolen throne. Lyle couldn’t discover she was acting as a Knight, inserted in the royal castle for a mission. A new woman stood on the tower, one strong and capable of determining her own future. The naive person who’d married Lyle and allowed herself to be locked in closets, too afraid to go against her husband, was dead. She was so much more now. All because Ackley had given her another path to take.
Sucking in a deep breath, she made sure to keep her newfound strength and resilience hidden within. No one could know or suspect what simmered beneath the surface.
In the distance, a plume of dust rose. It had to be from a group of horses, which could only mean one thing. Lyle had returned.
During his absence, Harley had tried to come up with a plan to discover where he had hidden the Melenia soldiers’ family members, figure out how to get information to Owen, and keep Ackley hidden from Lyle. If her husband ever found out that she had not only fallen for and slept with Ackley, but that Ackley had killed Lyle’s father, there would be no stopping the wrath he would unleash. She had to tread carefully to keep her loved ones safe.
Ackley had said his profession required sacrifice. If she wanted to be a Knight, Harley needed to learn how to make those tough choices to succeed with the mission.
Slowly, she inched backward, being careful, so no one below would notice her. When she bumped into the wall, she reached behind and opened the door, slipping inside the castle. She made her way along the corridor, taking soft steps, and holding her dress up so it wouldn’t swish. Thankfully the curtains hadn’t been removed on this level, so she went behind one that concealed an entrance to the secret passageways. She opened the hidden door and stepped into darkness. Not having time to light a torch, she kept her right hand on the wall as she traversed through the corridor until she reached the third level where the royal residence was located.
Exiting the passageways, she paused, listening for anyone who might be nearby. A deafening silence greeted her. She crept to the right. While Lyle had never allowed servants in his home in Penlar, the same was not true for the royal castle. Granted, there weren’t nearly the amount the late king had kept, but a decent presence, nonetheless.
Since she’d spent so much time in the royal castle as a child, she knew her way around here like a second home. She passed the doors leading to her late cousins’ rooms. When she reached the door to the king and queen’s chambers, she pushed it open and went inside. Her arms trembled as she stood in the square anteroom. Even though she’d been here for two weeks, every time she stepped into this space, it felt as if she were doing something wrong. These private rooms still seemed forbidden to her.
She eyed the door on the left. On her first day here, shortly after Lyle had left for his mission, she’d considered going into that room. Since she knew Lyle well enough, she assumed he’d have some sort of trap in place. Not wanting him to know she’d been snooping already, she decided not to go in there. At least, not yet.
Taking a calming breath, she pushed open the door and stepped inside her aunt’s bedchamber. Every time, the familiar smell hit her like a punch to the stomach, the distinct aroma of rosemary and honey that she always associated with her aunt. Tears filled her eyes. Eventually, the smell would fade. The memories of her aunt would dull. But not until after Harley had sought her revenge.
Rushing into her aunt’s dressing closet, she stepped inside the small room containing dresses, nightclothes, and jewelry. Her fingers trailed over necklaces and other trinkets, and she wondered why the Russeks hadn’t stolen these items or ransacked the room. She’d have to think on the matter later. Right now, she needed a shawl.
She grabbed a blue one, then exited the closet and glanced at the vanity mirror, verifying what she suspected—her hair was a raging mess. She hastily brushed it, knowing Lyle would expect her to look the part. As she stared at herself in the mirror, she considered the role she must play.
Lyle had to believe she was the same woman he married. Someone who listened and obeyed him. He couldn’t suspect she was snooping for information or intended to kill him. But she also couldn’t act too naive. Lyle knew she wasn’t an idiot and probably suspected she wasn’t quite as compliant as she let on. After all, he’d locked her in the closet numerous times and belittled her on multiple occasions for a reason.
The difference now—she knew what he was capable of. He’d been in love with another woman before he married Harley. He only broke off that engagement to marry Harley to have a legitimate claim to the throne once he killed off the royal family. His desire for power outweighed all else. She couldn’t forget that fact.
She needed to tread carefully since Lyle had no love for her. She was simply a means to an end for him. Once Owen was dead, he’d probably kill her as well. But she had no intention of letting Lyle kill Owen. And she had every intention of putting Owen on the throne and killing Lyle. It would be justice for all her vile husband had done.
The weapon Ackley had given her was safely hidden in one of the guest suites. Harley decided to leave it there for now. She’d stashed it there along with the letters Lyle’s father had sent him. The letters implicated not only that she was the king’s illegitimate child, but that Beck had been blackmailing the king. Harley had no idea what to do with the letters, but she didn’t want Lyle to have them. She’d put the sword and letters behind a drawer in the armoire—another piece of advice Ackley had deliberately told her.
She moved away from the vanity, then exited the room. Since the day she was brought here, she’d been wanting to get to the stables. However, the sentries on duty prevented her from leaving the third floor. While she’d traversed through the passageways over the past two weeks, she hadn’t left the castle, not wanting to be seen and questioned. With Lyle’s return, this may be her only chance.
Holding her head high, she glided along the hallway. After making two turns, she neared the staircase leading to the lower levels. Two soldiers stood guard. She considered addressing them but decided against it. She would play the part and treat them as servants.
Without saying a word to either man, she strolled past them and descended the stairs.
“May we assist you with something, Lady Harley?” the soldier on the left asked.
“My husband has returned,” she answered. “I am eager to see him.” The lie felt like cow dung in her mouth.
“I will escort you,” the other soldier said. He pounded down the stairs after her.
