Phantom growled. Zayn bolted upright. I tensed, hand instinctively moving toward Grimnor; there were countless guards surrounding this room, and I’d asked them all to make sure I wasn’t disturbed by anyone aside from my inner circle.
I breathed a sigh of relief when it was one of those trusted few—Captain Voss—who stepped inside.
“Your Highness.” He gave a small bow. “I apologize for interrupting.”
“It’s fine.” I cast a forlorn look at the shard. “You’re not interrupting anything particularly productive.”
“I see. Could you follow me, then?” There was an urgency in his usually stoic tone that had me immediately rising to my feet and pulling on my coat.
“Where to?” I asked, tucking the shard of soul carefully into my pocket.
He merely beckoned and hurried out of the room; I wasn’t sure he’d even heard me.
I grabbed my sword and rushed after him.
Phantom followed after he’d shifted into a slightly larger, more imposing canine form—a form he’d been taking much more often as he escorted me through the halls these days, keeping any potential threats and overly curious courtiers at bay.
Zayn followed us as well, looking far more alert, suddenly. There was a nervous energy thrumming through the palace that I guess even he couldn’t relax underneath. We’d been insulated from it in the private parlor, but now it hit us in full force.
Much of that energy was because of the event looming just two days ahead—my coronation. An affair I’d somehow forgotten was imminent while we were dealing with everything else.
It was impossible to deny it was happening now, though; the preparations were all being made. Servants rushed through corridors with linens and flower arrangements. Guardsrehearsed formations and security protocols. More guests of all ranks had started to arrive, joining the ones we’d already been hosting for weeks. The scent of food and wine drifted from the kitchens at all hours.
It was overwhelming, and yet…I felt oddly calm about the actual ceremony. We’d all discussed it at great length in between our other missions—the necessity of giving this realm a strong figurehead at the center of its strongest kingdom. Though I had my share of detractors, I was still the gods-blessed Vaelora and the rightful heir to Rivenholt’s throne. One who had clawed this world back from the edge of complete annihilation, even if the job was still incomplete.
In the grander scheme of things, a crown on my head seemed almost like an afterthought to me. But I knew it was an important symbol to my people.
There was something else brewing under the surface of all the ceremony preparations, though. Something that made Captain Voss’s jaw tight and his steps quicker than usual—andthathad me worried.
Finally, I couldn’t suppress my curiosity any longer; I placed a hand on his arm, drawing him to a stop. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes darted from side to side, checking for eavesdroppers. “The regent requested I not speak of it until we were in a safer location. Not much farther, come along…”
He took us outside, down the lantern-lined path that cut through the main gardens, past the training grounds and our largest greenhouses, and then farther still. Leading us toward the private, royal stables, I soon realized; there was a small, hidden space connected to the tack room that we had occasionally used as a secure meeting place, and I assumed this was our ultimate destination.
As we approached the stable yard, I noticed a wagon parked near the entrance. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary in appearance, but the closer we got, the more uneasy I felt.
Phantom growled at the exact moment I caught a hint of what smelled like blood.
My shadows writhed restlessly beneath my skin. The energy they were reacting to…I knew exactly what it was.
The energy of the newly-deceased.
“This way,” Captain Voss urged, pointing us toward the tack room while he circled back, making certain we weren’t being followed.
When we stepped inside, my brother, Eamon, and Thalia were already there to greet us. We waited for Voss to give the all clear, then we secured the room and made our way toward the entrance to the hidden annex, which was located behind a false wall disguised as shelving for bridles and saddles.
We paused before this false wall, exchanging few words at first. I was thoroughly confused and growing more anxious by the second when Thalia cleared her throat and asked, “Have you eaten today?”
“…What?”
“Because this might turn your stomach. Fair warning.”
Before I could ask any more questions, Bastian opened the wall to the annex.
Inside were two dead bodies sprawled out on tattered blankets, both of them young men with pale skin already mottled with the first signs of decay. The stench of death hung heavy in the confined space.
“Look at their necks,” my brother instructed.
