Ren blinked. Everyone was watching him now, even the servants. Ren's mouth felt dry. A part of him hoped this was part of the performance, that it would all end in laughs and jokes, but the more reasonable side of him knew that it wasn't. When he spoke, his voice seemed too loud in the silence. “Explain what?”

“The slave is yours,” Nathair said, spreading his arms out to the side. “He does what he is ordered to do. Didn't the king and I meet you in the dungeons on your way up from the slave's cell? What were you doing there?”

Ren's lips parted. Anik hadn't even belonged to him at that point. He was about to argue when the doors leading into the castle flew open and Keelan stumbled out, face white as a sheet.

“The king,” Keelan gasped, his entire body shaking. “The king and the crown prince are dead.”

CHAPTER THREE

The first thing Ren saw was the blood, too stark and bright against the shining beige-and-gold floors of the corridor. He had been the first inside, racing through the audience chamber and down the hall with his heart in his throat, beating so fast he thought he'd choke on it. He pushed through the gathered crowd of slaves and servants and froze in his tracks.

Even as he saw them, he couldn't stop desperately wishing it wasn't true.

Hellic's eyes were open, staring without seeing the gold filigreed ceiling. His throat was slit, a deep, grim gash all the way across, his fine white formal jacket with the golden antlers around the collar stained red.

King Callun lay a few feet away, face-down on the cold, hard floor, stabbed in the back just inside the doorway to his chambers. The blood still spread in a growing pool, thick and dark. The scent of it was heavy on the air.

Ren's vision narrowed. The world was spinning. The air seemed too thin to breathe. The impact of his knees against the floor echoed, but he didn't feel it.

“Hellic,” he called, barely recognizing the sound of his own voice, hoarse and hysterical. His chest ached as if the knife that had butchered his baby brother was now buried between his ribs, twisting slowly. “Hellic! Someone help him.”

Ren reached out. Hands closed around his biceps to help him to his feet, but he struggled against them.

“No, Hellic, please…”

He needed to be with his brother, needed to help him. The hands tightened.

“Lock him in his chambers. Position two guards at the door.”

The hands weren't trying to help him at all.

Twisting around, Ren met the stony face and cold eyes of Lord Nathair.

“What are you doing?” Ren gasped. His mind felt fractured. The world around him was awash with confusion.