Crown of Blood and Ruin: A romantic fairy tale fantasy (The Broken Kingdoms #3)(9)

Casper squeezed my shoulder as he passed, a reassuring grin on his face. “Be calm, my friend.” He rarely spoke informally. I must look ready to slaughter everyone. “Do not listen to small minds. Elise is loved. Probably more than you.”
Casper bellowed his deep laugh. Even Tor smiled. A bit of the unease lifted from my shoulders. I’d speak to Elise soon, insist she tell me the truth, and discover who—if anyone—had caused her grief.
If I gutted them for it was left to be determined.
“My King!” A woman cried.
The wail stirred me from my anger and set my nerves on edge. From the far side of the wall, a woman sprinted toward us, shoving through the repair crowd, eyes wide with fear.
“My King!” She fumbled to a stop, gasping. “Across the . . . across the ravine. Th-they’ve come! Ravenspire!”
Instinct drove my steps. Hands on my axes, I sprinted to the scaffolding we’d erected for archers to scale the walls. At the top, I leaned over the edge, and as the woman said, across the deep ravine torches and blue banners with the seal of the false king rose through the trees.
My fists curled at my side. What game were they playing?
A full unit of Ravens filled the gaps between trees, but in the front stood a man with one eye covered. Dressed in fine furs, standing straighter than I remember. He waved a white flag.
All gods I hated him.
“Tor,” I said, voice rough. “Find Elise. Her father has come to call.”

Chapter four

Rogue Princess

“Elise!” Kari’s voice shattered through the longhouse. Panicked, rough. Something was wrong.
I abandoned the pleats of my braid and raced out of the bedroom into the great hall. Kari was there, fiddling with a sword on her waist, breathless.
“What is it?” I reached for the silver dagger on the table as if steel and blades were a mere impulse now.
“At the wall, it’s . . .” She struggled to get her breath. “It’s . . . come.”
“Kari, what is it?”
“Your father, Elise.” Valen stepped through the door, face as stone.
My mouth parted, but no sound came. I fastened my dagger to its sheath with trembling fingers. Last I saw my father, he stood aside while Jarl Magnus forced me to take vows, then again as the same bastard stabbed my mother through the heart.
I had no father. Not anymore.
Valen crossed the room to me. “He comes to speak to you. You do not have to do this. I will speak to him, murder him, taunt him—whatever you ask, I will do.”
I licked the dryness from my lips, pulse racing, even as a smile curled in the corner of my mouth. He said the words lightly, doubtless to make me grin, but underneath it all there was truth to the Night Prince’s words. He would do anything I asked of him.
It was almost as if he prayed I might give my permission for him to slaughter those in my family who had harmed me. Like it might be a gift I could bestow to him.
I forced a smile and brought my fingertips to his jaw. “I will speak with him.”
“At my side. As half the heart of the king, Elise. You are not a second Kvinna—you are so much more. Make sure he knows it.”
Valen pressed a kiss to the center of my palm, while sneaking a second knife into my belt. A silent vow between us. Do anything to fight, to defend ourselves. To return to each other again.
Kari handed me a fur mantle. Valen placed a black circlet that looked like the wings of a raven around his head. A symbol of the original crown from Ravenspire; a symbol restored to the true heirs of the land.
Outside folk hurried with weapons, shields; the fae created illusions around the massive stone walls. Others twisted roots and earth until thick briars encircled the border of Ruskig.
Valen held firmly to my hand as we approached. The crowds parted, and soon the Guild of Shade fell in line with us. Tor had placed his black mask around his chin and mouth, Halvar circled one hand, stirring up a maelstrom of clouds and wind above us.
“We’ll speak at the tower,” Valen said, resting his hand on my lower back. He turned to his guild. “All eyes will be on their archers. If one damn arrow even looks like it might angle at Elise, you slaughter the archer. Understood?”
“Dead before he even thinks to load the arrow, Valen,” Stieg said with a wink.
“For the king too,” I said, glaring at the Night Prince. “Do not let this fool play my human shield or I will hold each of you responsible if he takes another arrow to the back.”
“As you say, My Lady,” Halvar said, laughing.
Valen smirked and led us toward the wooden stairs built into the tower. “I thought you liked when I played your hero.”
“I like you breathing much more.”
The top watchtower was wider than the others, and able to fit the whole of the guild with room to spare. I laced my fingers with Valen’s and squeezed his hand until his smooth brown skin turned pink. Twenty paces from the border a line of darkly dressed Ravens held seax blades, or battle axes. Some held longswords, or short blades made of bronze and iron.
But my eyes danced across the glimmer of steel and landed in the center. My father stood beneath a canopy. His hair combed and glossy. Healthy. His beard was beaded in bone and silver, and across his left eye was a black patch where Runa had blinded him to spite me.
All my sister had done to destroy his family and he remained her pet.
I looked to my hand in Valen’s. For a short, silent moment my heart smiled. I had no family outside this refuge. All my family lived here, with him. He was part of me more than anyone in the Lysander manor had ever been.
Valen stepped forward. He never released my hand, and I suspected he would’ve adjusted if I insisted on keeping his palm in mine. I cleared my throat and released him so he could step forward.