Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
I lost sight of Varic as I was bumped and knocked down, nearly trampled, and I knew why Zev and my guards weren’t there to help me, to watch over me—they were engaged, as was everyone, keeping at bay the horde of people who had entered the hall. So many had followed Balon, and Hadrian was now in the thick of it with Zev at his side.
People were screaming, fighting, running, and looking around, everywhere for the threat, finally, I saw Decimus in the gallery above us, where people must have sat to listen to him speak centuries ago. I jolted when I realized he was holding an enormous broadsword, because that made no sense. He wouldn’t even be able to lift a weapon that massive. He was weak, fragile, barely clinging to life, rotting from the inside out.
But as I watched, I saw him tear the bandages away from his face and all at once, in that moment, I understood how thoroughly I’d been played. The man beneath the blood-smeared-and -crusted wrapping was completely unmarked by any but age. He was just as handsome and virile as the king, looking, I was certain, exactly as he had the last time Varic had laid eyes on him.
He’d poisoned his sons but not himself and that betrayal was far more monstrous than I’d originally thought. He was a horrible man, and an abomination of a father.
Leaping from the gallery, he landed solidly on straight legs and began his advance—not on me, he didn’t spare me even a glance—toward Isabella.
I was hit then, and getting up was hard. I was far more tired than I thought, and something else, something slowing me down, making me feel sluggish, and even more, the ache of the past few days, deep in my bones, that I couldn’t put a name to but that I remembered from being in combat. That hopelessness of loss. But it wasn’t my life at stake, it was one far more precious to me. The queen was in danger.
She was powerful, and I knew that, but not like this. Not against brute strength. She was a chess player, a master of plotting and intrigue, and her grounding magic and endless compassion had served her well over the centuries. But the man coming for her was going to cut her down with raw, physical power and steel. She was at his mercy and I could not allow that.
Someone collided with me then, and I was knocked hard to the floor, the stampede of people nearly crushing me before I could get back on my feet. It was hard to get through the sea of bodies, like moving against a dangerous undercurrent trying to grab hold and pull you down.
I could see Isabella moving back, not wanting to hurt anyone, and when I looked for Decimus, I saw the anger on his face, the frustration as he tried to shove people out of his way. He couldn’t get to her any faster than I could, which was definitely good for me. I resorted to moving people with my shoulders like a battering ram against a wall. When I finally burst free into the pocket of space she was in, I rushed over to grab her arm, intending to drag her after me to safety. Even though retreating into the castle was risky, it was better than facing Decimus alone, just the two of us. Glancing around though, I quickly saw that there was nowhere to go as more soldiers joined those already fighting, surging in from every archway leading into the cavernous throne room.
“The queen is mine for the killing!” Decimus roared, finally announcing his intentions for the world to hear as his loyal soldiers reached him and began moving people aside to clear the way to us.
I had nothing, no weapon, all I could do was shield her with my body. I called on my barrier but it was as useless as it had been that night when I tried to save Nerilla.
“You will not touch the queen!” I yelled at him, glancing behind me to find only soldiers of Ophir who were not attacking us solely on Decimus’s word.
His laughter made my blood run cold, but I stood my ground as he closed the space between us and raised his sword for the killing stroke that would take both my life and Isabella’s.
I was hit hard, thrown back as the edge of his blade caught Zev’s who had shoved me out of the way to intercept the blow. Isabella and I both went down, but I recovered quickly and got her to her feet.
“Of course,” Decimus announced with a sneer of contempt as he took a step back, his lips receding from his teeth in some twisted semblance of a smile even as his eyes showed nothing but seething fury and hatred. “My traitorous son.”