Cass glanced at Miri, and she did her best to convey she was well and that she had the emotion and the tingling dread under control. She wasn’t certain if she was telling the truth, but she had no choice about it. There was no going back.
He slid the panel free, and they slipped into a sizable bedroom with no evidence of recent use. Beyond its small sitting room would be a door to the corridor that could take them to the castle keep. Cass gave a glance to the men behind them, obviously asking if they were well and truly ready for the sprint through the remaining rooms, for that fight that was to come. At their nods, the lot of them moved forward and came into a sitting room that was entirely bare of furniture. Cass froze near the doorway, his gaze roaming the space. There were signs the room had been charred, though no scent of smoke or hint of ash remained. It had been burned long before, no doubt, but the room had not been repaired. His wary gaze met Miri’s. They both knew it had been years since they’d last explored the castle and that any number of things could have changed. Nicholas had been strict about visitors. No one was allowed to set foot in the keep, aside from a small number of servants who’d been locked inside, unable to leave because they had access to his secrets.
It was why none of the queensguard knew much of what had happened inside. Nicholas had been the cleverest and kept himself the most secure. Miri had never wanted a man dead more in her life. Cass gave her one final look before opening the door to the corridor—then an explosion knocked them back into the room.
Cass’s body rolled over Miri, knocking her onto the stone as they were pelted with bits of block and ash. Miri’s chest went tight with the approach of a sorcerer, and she realized the explosion had come not from them but from kingsmen. It was powder, not magic. The sound of clashing swords broke through the room, and one of their queensguard landed solidly on the floor beside Miri and Cass. Before her ears had stopped ringing, Cass was on his feet, and Miri stood behind him despite the dread building in her chest threatening to drown her. She raised her sword to fend off a blow, but a blast of energy slammed into her, knocking her again onto the floor. It was a sorcerer and too many kingsmen. They rushed forward, swords clashing, bursts of power cracking through the room and over Miri’s skin like lightning. Another queensguard’s body fell beside her.
As Cass turned to find Miri, his sword flashed, but it was far too late. The kingsmen descended. Miri was frozen by blood magic, her sword limp in her hand, and Cass was outnumbered twenty to one.
He fought on, but it was only moments before Miri and Cass were bound, defenseless, and prepared to be dragged through the castle. The sorcerer’s blood ran over Cass’s blade. He had not been able to fight them all, but he’d done what he could to free Miri from the magic’s hold on her. Blood poured from a wound on his shoulder, a gash on his forehead, and another along his leg. He’d nearly died trying to prevent her capture, and two of his brethren already had.
They had failed—after everything. Cass would be tortured and killed. Lettie would be bled out at the hands of the king. The realm would be lost.
The kingsmen dragged them through the corridors, and Miri realized they were being taken not to the square to be hanged or to the cells to wait. They were going to the tower. The king knew who Miri was. Cass swore and struggled against the soldiers, knocking two from their feet before being subdued by two more. A kingsman slammed his sword hilt into Cass’s jaw and was repaid with a fight only that much fiercer. He was outnumbered, and the kingsmen were gathering through the halls. More and more kept coming, and there was less that they could do.
Cass wrenched in their hold, his gaze finding Miri, and she winced at the torment she saw in his eyes. It could only get worse. She gave him a small nod before she was jerked forward again, through a massive arching doorway that led to the tower keep—to the king on his throne.
Chapter 31
Miri was shoved to her knees at the base of the polished steps before her mother’s throne, Cass beside her. She didn’t know whether Nicholas meant to gloat or if he only wanted to witness her death in person. She couldn’t defeat him from her knees, but that did not stop her from glaring up at the man with a promise in her eyes.
“Princess Myrina,” Nicholas said with a purr. He wore a rich, dark-red, velvet-trimmed suit, a golden crown, and a jeweled chain draped over his shoulders. He seemed to have barely aged. He was the same man in her nightmares, unchanged by years on the throne.
Miri spat. Blood splattered across the steps before her, but none of it was hers.
Nicholas chuckled. “The little Lion still has bite.”
Panic was tight in Miri’s chest, but the sorcerers had not approached from the back of the hall. She had no idea what was stopping them from closing the distance but was grateful she could manage any movement at all. “You have broken the laws of blood. You betrayed the one true queen.”
The king glanced at the kingsman beside Miri, and the man’s fist cracked across her jaw. In response, Cass smashed his head into one of the men holding him but was shoved back down in a violent struggle that only left him bleeding more.
The king sighed. “I see you’ve brought a bloodsworn with you. One of Henry’s little brats.” His finger waved above the arms of the throne, and his tone bored, he said, “Kill him.”
“I wouldn’t,” someone somewhere behind Miri said. “Not unless you want to lose three more.”
The king’s gaze shot to the man, and though Miri couldn’t see him, she knew it was Terric. He had the sorcerers hostage beneath his blade. It was why the king had not yet acted, why no magic tore through the room. If he killed Miri or Cass, he would lose as many sorcerers as Terric and his men held. Yet Terric could not move on the king without Miri and Cass losing their lives.
She couldn’t figure out what Nicholas was waiting for, but she could see that he was buying time. The king had a card up his sleeve, maybe more men or more sorcerers or something worse Miri had not yet considered. Bloodsworn could not be harmed by magic, but they could still be killed.
The door behind the throne opened, and two more figures walked in. Prince Augustus had grown tall, his features as smooth and square as his father’s. His dark eyes skirted Miri and Cass, as if the entire ordeal was beneath him. Miri had never wanted a prince dead more in her life.
Her gaze fell back to Nicholas, but the corner of his mouth was pinched in something of a tell. He thought he’d won, yet Miri could not see how. Prince Augustus stopped beside the throne, and beside him stepped a tall woman who curtsied briefly to the king. She faced forward, her golden eyes trailing over the room.
Miri’s chest seized, her mind screaming that she had to be wrong. The woman wore a long velvet gown, her hair hidden beneath a headdress that draped her bare shoulders and was woven with red ribbons and jewels. She was older, the soft lines of childhood leaving not a single trace. Her skin was smooth and powdered, not at all the visage Miri had imagined. But there was no denying her sister’s face or the familiar expression of both contempt for a prisoner and interest for how the crime would be dealt with. Miri’s mouth fell open to speak, but she could not find words.
Lettie stared at her for several moments, and Miri remembered her sister had thought her dead. She wanted to scream at her, to make her see, but Miri’s voice would still not come. Then the perfect brow pinched above her sister’s eyes, the first hint of recognition coming slowly to her precise features, before it dawned all at once. “Myrina.” The word seemed to fall unintentionally from Lettie’s mouth, and Miri couldn’t make out the emotion that drove it.