Page 79 of Sworn to the Shadow Throne

Camrick was already there, eating with one elbow braced on the table. Nisien beside him. Both glanced up as I sat, eyes sharpening briefly before anyone else could notice.

“You look like shit,” Cam said quietly as I took my seat.

Nisien used a napkin to cover his laugh.

I huffed something that might’ve been a derisive growl if it hadn’t caused me to cough uncontrollably.

A servant appeared as soon as I regained control of my lungs, setting down a tray piled high with spiced muffins. The scent hit me harder than a sucker punch—warm, sweet, threaded with citrus and cloves.

For a fleeting, unguarded moment, my body and magic went still. For the first time since leaving the mountains, I felt something other than grief, shame, or anger. It was something so close to peace that I nearly slumped in my seat.

Then my conscious mind caught up, and I recognized it.

Fuck.

My magic surged, shadows prickling under my skin, along the edges of my vision. I stiffened, fingers squeezing the wood of my chair until it creaked. Over food. I didn’t know whether to laugh or put my fist through the table.

“Take them away. Now!” I ordered. No explanation.

The servant flinched then scrambled backward.

I just terrorized a servant over a smell.

The thought surfaced briefly before vanishing, because I didn’t have the energy to feel shame about it.

Leave, a sensible voice inside my mind urged. They’ll see that the rumors about you are correct.

I wouldn’t be ruled by this. I couldn’t be. I had to stay because Berian was absent. So while I felt like another piece of my soul had been brutally cut away by a dull knife, I locked myself in place, spine rigid, face carefully blank.

Or so I thought. I wasn’t convincing everyone.

Nisien stepped up and started loudly engaging the nearest warriors about their training session that morning, drawing attention to himself. Part of me wanted to tell him to stop. I didn’t need managing. Except I clearly did. I felt a flash of unfair loathing for him, simply because he’d seen how far I’d fallen.

And yet I owed him a king’s ransom.

Camrick’s gaze flicked to Nisien then landed on me and narrowed. He hissed, “You’re hiding something, aren’t you?”

“No,” I said automatically. I hadn’t yet gotten the weighty secret I kept in my pocket examined, so I’d avoided worrying him prematurely. Only Emrys and Nisien knew about it, and with me being holed up in my room for so long, it hadn’t come up.

“Liar,” he said quietly. “Your face is streaked with black. You look like a bloody nightmare.”

He slid off the dais without another word and jogged down a few steps, speaking briefly to one of his captains. Then he turned back and stopped directly in front of me, blocking me from the view of the hall.

“We’re going to have a meeting in my office,” he said quietly. There was steel in his tone I rarely experienced pointed at me. “Now. This has gone too far.”

Something in me jolted. It was enough to cut through the haze of wrath, longing, and self-recrimination. I met his eyes. For a moment, I saw myself reflected in them—half the man I should’ve been.

I stood. The ring pressed against my thigh like an accusation—proof that they were already sharpening knives behind my back. As Regent, I no longer had to ask for permission to act. And it was past time to do something about it.

Camrick had seen enough to be afraid of what I was becoming. The trouble was, so had I.

***

Lunette,

My mind has become a cage, and thinking of you is the only window out of it. I cannot speak to you, so I write these words to keep from losing my mind entirely.

Yesterday they named me Regent and threw a feast to make it look like a good thing.