"No!" I shriek. "Hush!" Elric hisses behind me, but my voice has done enough. The disruption causes Sebastian to pause, glancing at me. The momentary distraction is enough for Ambrose. He shoves him off with a sudden burst of energy. Sebastian falls back, his focus returning to the fight. Then, they're at it again. I'm not sure how much time passes watching them fight. There are a few moments where I think one of them will finally kill the other, but neither is able to get the upper hand. Their coats are turning red. Ambrose's white fur is stained crimson and I've lost track of how many wounds he has. After what seems like an eternity, the fight shifts. Ambrose can tell his brother is getting tired, so he toys with him. I watch as Sebastian's exhaustion becomes more and more evident. Finally, Ambrose lunges, landing on the prince and pinning him beneath him. Sebastian lets out a roar, attempting to get up. But he can't. He's too tired, his energy is spent. Ambrose sta
I rush to Althea's room, pounding on the door. "It's me! Everything is okay!" I shout. She throws open the door, crashing into me with her arms wide. I laugh, spinning her around and squeezing tightly. "Theo?" she asks when I release her. "Waiting for you, I'm sure," I tell her with a grin. She kisses me on the cheek before she takes off down the hall. I smile, happy to see my sister so joyful. I would give anything to keep her in this state. And maybe we could. I make my way back to the king. We shut the bedroom door behind us, and he helps me take my corset off. The armor saved my life more than once and it showed. There were a few holes in the hide that prevented a puncture to my chest. He carefully bandages my shoulder, taking his time with gentle movements. I'm so exhausted, I almost fall asleep as he does. When Ambrose is finally done, he carries me to the bed and lays beside me, wrapping his arms around me. We don't say a word. We don't need to. I know he's awa
Ambrose wakes me with a kiss, bringing me back to the reality of the day. It's coronation day. Time sped by so fast, the weeks seemed like a blur I can hardly remember. I spent most of my time planning—approving this or denying that so that everything was ready for today. I had a custom gown made with royal colors and jewels to match. I'm not used to it at all, but the tailor was patient as I procrastinated on getting it done. Ambrose chose my crown. He told me it's a surprise, so I haven't seen it yet. I roll over into his arms and he squeezes me tightly against him. "You ready?" he asks in my ear. "No," I mumble. It's true. I'm not. I'm so nervous, I'm scared I might pass out when I'm up there. Since he offered everything to me, it had time to sink in. I'm going to be a queen. Me! The same girl who was an assassin not that long ago. A girl who was struggling to put food on the table for her sister and herself. I can't believe it's happening, and I'm terrified they won't
The smell of rain fills my lungs as I move quickly through the streets. My boots splash in the puddles and the edges of my favorite cloak turn muddy. I turn the corner and slip through the doorway of the dark bar. Inside, the smell of beer is overwhelming, but I scan the room from beneath my hood and find the man I'm looking for. I slip through the crowd, unnoticed, using the walls and shadows to stay hidden. People are eating, laughing, some dancing to the musicians that play loudly in the corner. It's easy to blend in here and remain unseen. For this meeting, I want to be unseen. I sit down across from the man in the corner. He also wears a dark cloak but his hood sits on his shoulders. His face is dimly lit by the candle on the table revealing a scraggly beard and tired eyes. I notice the dagger at his hip that he is trying to display without being overly obvious. I smile at him. "Hera," he says. "Lucas," I respond. "Lovely spot. A favorite of yours?" He scoffs, his hand
The seamstress shop sits on the corner of a brick building with a dim blue door. I approach, taking my time to reach the entryway. I've never had fancy gowns or attended a ball before. Most of my marks are ones I can reach in alleyways or dark bar corners. All I need for that is my cloak. The king will be more difficult. I will have to blend in, look like a noble who belongs in silk gowns and glittering jewels to even get through the door. I take a breath before turning the handle and stepping inside. The shop is filled with beautiful gowns from reds, blues, and purples to greens, yellows, and bright oranges. The silk is finer than anything I've ever owned. I approach the first dress and lightly run my fingers down the fabric, stunned. Was it cut out for this? "Hello, how can I help you?" I turn to find a woman in a plain dress–at least, plain compared to her merchandise. She looks a little older, her dark hair mixed with strands of white. She smiles kindly but I can tell the
We move away from the ballroom, up a staircase, and down a hall until we reach a door. King Ambrose opens it and I follow him inside. It's a small study, still as lavish as the ballroom, although it has a homey feel. Along the walls are books and journals, and by the tall window sits a desk with scattered papers, a quill, and ink. I glance at the window. We are on the second floor, but it may be my best route of escape. "I can't be gone for long, but you can rest here for a moment," the king says. He sits on a chair beside mine, his gaze glued to me. I lean forward and place my hand on his knee. "I appreciate it, Your Majesty. You are too kind." And a sucker for a good pair of tits. He stands and moves to a cabinet where he pulls out some glasses and a bottle of liquor. Oh, it'd be a little too easy to drink and sleep with him before cutting his throat. He was deliciously stunning and staring at his backside made it tempting. I shake the idea from my head. No. Kill him,
I don't bother hiding the shock or disbelief on my face anymore. This guy is crazy. His golden eyes haven't left mine for a moment, which only solidifies that he really does believe everything he is saying to me. "Aren't you rich enough to afford a head doctor?" I say, the irritation evident in my tone. This was supposed to be an in-and-out job. Easy? No, but I was so close to slitting his throat. And now I'm sitting across from him, a little worried that his insanity might be contagious and contemplating how to talk my way out of this one. King Ambrose laughs deeply, his chest rumbling. He sits back in his seat, relaxing as he drinks the dark liquor in his drink. He's so handsome, it's very distracting. I wait for him to speak, and he seems to consider his next words carefully. "You tried to kill me," he says. It's not a question but I respond anyway. "Sure did," I smirk at him. "Do you know who hired you?" "What makes you so sure I was hired? I could be here because I h
I fall asleep in my dress after struggling to get out of it on my own and giving up. There's no point in undressing just to put it back on in the morning anyways. It's the only dress I have with me right now. I quietly venture down the halls toward the ballroom. I made sure to pay attention to the twists and turns Ambrose took the night before. The dining hall sits close to the ballroom and I happen to pass the open door. I peek inside. King Ambrose sits at a long table, his face in a book as he eats. He doesn't look up as he says, "Good morning, Hera." I step inside the room and walk toward him. I plop down into the seat next to him, and at this, he looks up and smiles. "Sleep well?""It would've been better out of my corset," I respond dryly. "I could've helped with that," he smirks at me and I feel my face heat. "I'm sure you could've," I mutter. And I probably would've let him. "I'll get some fresh clothes and maids sent to you. Tell them whatever you need. Anyth