Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Thorn
Whispers and laughter fill the game room.
The two women are seated in the corner at a small card table.
Candlelight dances across Crymson’s high cheekbones as she moves a black chip across the porcelain backgammon board.
They’ve been at it for hours, conspiratorially talking in hushed tones while their gazes flick from me to Airen to anyone else who dares pass them by.
I’ve been to war. Many times. I’ve killed a thousand men. I’ve held my own grandfather’s hand on his deathbed, and I’ve never once felt the fear I feel right now watching these two women gossip.
It’s unnerving.
I haven’t seen Crymson smile this much . . . ever.
“Concerned, My King?” Airen murmurs under his breath, stepping closer to my side to gossip himself.
“Immensely,” I reply.
“I don’t think she’s a spy,” he tells me.
“Of course, she’s a fucking spy,” I bite back a fraction louder than I intended.
The board game halts. Thick lashes lift, and two sets of glaring eyes pin on me.
Fuck. Great.
“Have you noted the raven?” I ask as chips begin passing over the board once more.
Airen cocks his head at me, his dark hair shifting around his bronzed features.
“Raven?” he asks slowly.
“There’s been a bird in our castle.” I lean my back against the tall bookshelf and continue to watch the way Crymson assesses the moves she has left. The Princess will win in less than three moves. But I don’t think she’s realized that yet.
“Do you wish for me to call the exterminator, My King?”
“What? No!” I sigh and press my thumb and forefinger to the bridge of my nose, knowing I sound like a fucking crazy person right now. “Forget it.” I turn to him then, and he waits with watchful eyes for my next command.
But I don’t think he could have expected it if his life depended on it.
And it very well may.
“I want you to befriend the Blood Princess,” I whisper.
His brows lift high, but he doesn’t reply.
“If she is on a walk, I want you to escort her. If she enjoys backgammon, ask her to teach you. If she’s hungry, you’re hungry–”
“But I don’t drink blood, My King,” he murmurs, and I want so badly to just fucking scream about how out of control my kingdom has become in the span of a single evening.
“Become her very favorite person of the Fae Court. Can you do that?” I wait and he nods.
“Of course,” he says, but he suddenly can’t look me in the eye, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ve asked the wrong man for the job.
He stares intently at the pretty Princess. Her head tips back as she victoriously laughs with the final move of the game. Sharp canines gleam with a beautiful smile. Shadows dance across her pale flesh. She’s ethereal. Deadly beautiful.
My attention slowly passes back to the man at my side, and I immediately note I’m not the only one who notices all of these alarming facts about the spy I invited into my home.
Great.