Page 35 of A Touch of Poison
She exchanged a look with another man and nodded towards me. Golden blond hair—true gold, not pale like the king’s—and a crown depicting a sunrise framed a remarkably handsome face. From his smirking lips and dimpled chin to his hooded eyes, he seemed made of sinuous curves. He raised his eyebrows at me and gestured at what had to be his father, as though reminding me that I was in the presence of a king.
As if I could forget.
“King Lucius.” Rose bowed when he stopped before us, and I rushed to follow suit. “An honour.”
He sniffed but otherwise ignored her, only looking at me. His mouth curved slowly like a bow I wasn’t strong enough to draw. “Well, if it isn’t the newest arrival to my city. And, may I say, such a pretty one.”
Some compliments made me warm—they were approval, safety. A sign I’d done something right.
Not this one.
Still, I smiled and bowed my head. “Thank you. Your Majesty is too kind.”
“The sight of you adorning my streets is thanks enough.”
“Then I’m glad to please Your Majesty.” My skin crawled at how sincere I sounded, but pleasing a king meant safety, so maybe it wasn’t entirely a lie.
He watched me a beat too long for comfort. “Yes, I think you’ll do well in Luminis.” He glanced at the gathering crowd and spread his hands. “But I must continue with my work—a king is nothing without his people. If you get bored of that shadow, you know where to find us.” Inclining his head, he took a step back. “Katherine.”
Never before had my name sounded so much like a threat.
It blocked my throat like a mouthful of stale bread, and I had to fight to keep my pleasant smile in place before Rose hurried us towards the Hall of Healing.
My fingers had never itched so much for the comfort of my pistol. Inside Bastian’s rooms, I’d felt trapped… but also safe.
I didn’t know the rules of this game, but having met one of its key pieces, I was certain of one thing.
Beingnoticedby royalty wasnotsafe.
13
Bastian
“‘When the princess is in power’—that’s what they said.” The witness held my gaze, not troubled by the unseelie glow.
I shared a look with Faolán.
There were no princesses. Not anymore. Not since I’d beheaded the last remaining heir to Dusk.
Her elder daughter, Princess Nyx, had died in an unseelie attack before I was born.
My fingers tightened around my pen. All the more reason to stop Hydra Ascendant before they became a true threat. The Night Queen had no clear heir. If she died, factions would rise around her distant relatives, like Asher, and those factions would clash in a race to the Moon Throne.
A total fucking disaster.
As was the fact word had got out about Ascendants operating in the city.
The wrinkled woman before us had heard two people outside her house in the early hours. When she blasted them with a sudden rainfall, they’d fled. Unfortunately, her weather magic had also washed away any evidence, save for a pot of red paint.
“‘When the princess is in power this will all pay off.’” She nodded, grey eyebrows drawn together in a fierce frown.
“We heard you.” I tried to keep the sigh from my voice.
“Hmph, good luck getting her on the throne,” Faolán muttered.
The witness’s frown intensified. I liked it, to be honest—it was refreshing for a civilian not to fear me. “Dead women don’t make great queens, do they, Serpent?”
I fixed a smile in place, like I found her comment terribly amusing.
