Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 31 - Chapitre 36

CAYDEN“Well why not?” Valerius responds, grinning. “Princess Charlotte is the apple of King Werin’s eye, after all, and rumor has it that her only brother is in poor health. If she ends up being appointed queen, that would make you king consort of Werin—a very useful title to have.”“Useful for me?” Cayden says. “Or useful for you? I figured you’d stand in the way of this arrangement with Charlotte.”Valerius swats Cayden’s words out of the air. “You thought I’d be jealous? It’s been a long time since I’ve dreamt of a Werin princess of my own. I’m quite content with my life as it is. And for you, dear brother, I only want the best.”Cayden narrows his eyes.There was a time when he would have believed this sentiment. There was a time when he would have believed anything Valerius told him.He’d taken Cayden in after Annie’s death, after all, sheltering him from the worst of the retribution and properly schooling him on the ways of court. A bastard, he understood what it meant to have

ASTRIDCayden’s in such a rotten mood, I can’t even appreciate his body as I bathe him. He dangles a crystal goblet by its stem, wine splashing out onto the floor around us, and seems utterly uninterested in my presence.Unlike the last time I soaped him down, his body doesn’t respond to mine at all.His mean streak certainly has no issue flaring up, though.“This counts as clean to you?” he snipes, examining his arm. “I guess you did grow up in a gutter.”I bite back a retort.I’ve done enough snapping back tonight; I’m lucky Jace seemed to find the whole situation humorous, or I could have been kicked back out to the slums by now.Maybe Jules has a point about me studying up on my manners.Cayden stretches his arms above his head, then grips one wrist and leans to the side, arcing his ribcage out, showing off his well-defined obliques.He exhales, long and low.“I can feel this last hunt in my bones,” he groans. “I need a massage.”At first, I don’t even realize the order is directe

ASTRIDSparring with Jace does little to bolster my confidence. These last three rounds are brutal, every muscle in my body screaming for me to just give up already.Jace isn’t even breathing hard, go figure. My deftest knifework barely nicks his tunic; meanwhile, he’s poked and prodded me with his wooden blade so many times, I’m afraid I’ll wake up tomorrow bruised like a banana.If this were a real fight, I’d have been skewered ten times over.My arms are quivering, my knife shaking in my hands.“H-hold on,” I gasp, gulping down air. “I can’t catch my breath.”Jace knits his brow in concern and steps over, holding out his hand to steady me.I grab it—and yank him toward me, my faux dagger held in my other hand, extended outward.But fast as a cat, he pivots, slipping behind me.“Very clever,” he says, “but you’ll have to be faster than that.”Before the sentence is out of his mouth, I’ve whirled around, tracking his movement.I see my in—his elbow is raised, exposing his ribs—but I’