Chapters (41)
- TITLE PAGE
- TABLE OF CONTENTS
- PART ONE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- PART TWO
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- PART THREE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- EPILOGUE
- ALSO BY ELLA FIELDS
The man I hadn’t finished stabbing in the throat gurgled, blood dribbling from his mouth, “Dead giveaway…” He coughed. “That scar.”
Cold raced through my limbs and faltered the beating of my heart. I stepped closer and growled low, “Who sent you.”
He grinned, revealing blood-covered teeth, then coughed again. “You seem to already k-know.”
My teeth gnashed, but an incoming whistle of metal upon the air had me crouching to the side, and the idiot who’d aimed to kill me ended his comrade’s suffering instead.
Realizing what he’d done, he made the fatal mistake of stilling over the man who’d thought to taunt me, his hand falling from his weapon in shock. From behind, I dug my blade into his gut before he could rise, and then I foolishly froze, too.
Howls sounded from the east.
Dade.
Not trapped after all. The king and the rest of our legions had returned.
Relief delivered me a renewed burst of energy. But looking at the carnage as I swung my sword to meet with an incoming dagger, I could only hope our king knew this was the real trap.
And nothing more.
FOURTEEN
Aster
The months washed by with the uneven pace of the babe learning to walk within the halls of the towers.
I’d spent them confined to my quarters, painting, or working in the infirmary. So I seldom laid eyes on Rorn, but I did see a lot of his lover. Carelda was either chasing her son or carrying him, and as time went by, our awkward glances and encounters soon faded into tenuous greetings and smiles.
The babe had been named Helvectus, after Rorn’s brother, the late king.
Whether it was Rorn who had decided on the name or Carelda, I hadn’t heard. I had my suspicions, knowing all too well how it felt to have the king take matters into his own hands in a way that fooled one into thinking it was because he knew best. For both the kingdom and our hearts.
Time had made it somewhat easier to accept that Carelda was not to blame for the actions of a faithless male. Even if she had known he was married, and she surely had, I hadn’t any room left for hatred. Not even for the king himself.
My whittled energy, and the remaining fragments of who I’d once been, were used solely to keep moving forward. Though there were days when I still wondered why I felt compelled to stay afloat at all.
There was no one dependent on me. No one who would lament losing me. The one soul who might have cared was now nothing but a blistering memory to keep me company at night.
And that was how I spent my days—endlessly avoiding the aching loss of something I never truly had and avoiding the loss of something I once believed would only ever be mine.