Chapter 13
“Warren Landry is still missing, sir,” General Craven reported to Samuel, one of the wealthiest and most powerful nobles in the Garden Kingdom.
“And the girl?” the older man demanded.
“She’s still working at the palace and the pleasure house,” the general said.
Samuel never told General Craven who Fawn Whitman was or why he wanted her dead, but he had a guess. The king’s mate had been named Fawn, but Dean’s father, Henry, claimed the girl died years ago.
It no longer mattered. The new king hadn’t claimed the girl as his mate, which freed General Craven from any allegiance to her. Even if she was the king’s gods-blessed mate, she wouldn’t be for long. Once he married Cali Galla, the bond would be broken.
Samuel slammed his fist on the desk. “I want her fucking dead . Now.”
General Craven nodded. “I will send?—”
“No,” Samuel cut him off. “Do it yourself and do it now before the king sees her.”
The general furrowed his brow. “How would the king notice a palace maid in the Mountain Kingdom?” Realization struck him. “He’s in the Mountain Kingdom for the king’s coronation.” Samuel nodded grimly. “We might already be too late, sir.”
A calculating glint lit Samuel’s eyes, and the sight raised the hairs on the general’s neck. “We’re not too late until he marries the little bitch. Even then, accidents happen.”
Samuel’s words confirmed the general’s suspicions. General Craven wasn’t a good man, but he honored his oaths—especially the one he’d sworn to the crown. Once the king publicly claimed Fawn Whitman as his mate, the general couldn’t—wouldn’t—touch her.
Samuel studied him, gauging every flicker of his expression. “I’ll pay you more. Whatever you want, I’ll double it.”
Years of discipline kept the general from balking. Samuel already paid him enough to set up his family in luxury for generations. He couldn’t fathom what to do with more, but money equaled power in their world, and General Craven always wanted more.