Page 16 of Fated to the Wicked King

The king faced forward again. He gave me a prompting lift of an eyebrow. “Well?”

My gaze swept across the prisoners. I was essentially about to put someone’s life in jeopardy. I turned to look at the king again. “What if I help you reveal the assassin you seek? What happens to them?”

“They will need to be punished, of course.”

Indignation built up in my throat. “I am not about to send any of these people to their deaths.”

There was a shadow of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I never said anything about sending them to their deaths. Now, look carefully.”

Another guard nudged me forward, guiding me slowly along the line so I could scrutinize each candidate more closely.

I tried not to look.

I tried not to stare at one of the women in particular—tall and severe, her dark braids hanging loose and tangled over her shoulders. One side of her face was swollen where someone had struck her, but the way she glared at the throne suggested she would happily spit in the king’s face if given the chance.

It was her. The woman from last night. She was the one who had tried to kill the most powerful man in Wünder. She didn’t even remotely look sorry about it. Her cold gaze met the king’s gaze directly, expression burning with open fury.

Her hatred was utterly undisguised. It hit me like a physical thing—thick and suffocating, a slick, clinging weight that crawled over my skin and settled in my chest like cold sludge. It pressed in from all sides, heavy and choking, as if the air itself had turned dark and viscous, dragging at my lungs and pulling me down into it.

The heart in my chest was starting to pound all over again. So hard that I could hear it in my ears. I didn’t need to say anything further.

“It’s her.” The king tilted his head in a slight nod. “Take her to the gallows.”

Wide-eyed, I whirled around. “No! You said you wouldn’t kill her.”

Those steel-blue eyes slid to meet mine again. He lifted his hand, then gave a slight wave. “Kill them all.”

Six

BRILLIANT IDEA

Clamoring, screams, and protests filled the air as the guards dragged all the captives away. Their desperate wails and yelling echoed down the halls beyond the doorway.

I gasped in horror. “What the hell are you doing?” I ran to stop them. “No! You can’t do this!”

“Take her away too.”

A couple of guards grabbed hold of my arms.

I jerked in alarm. “What? Oh my god—stop it! Let me go!”

I turned my horrified gaze up to the man standing on the dais—immobile, uncaring. My chest ached at the renewed realization that the man I once knew had been lost for good.

I bit my lip, racking my brain. I shouldn’t be swayed by things in the past. If the king were a different man, appeals to his past nature were unlikely to work any longer. I needed to change my tack. I had to do something. I couldn’t let him kill them. I had to think—quickly.

“Wait!” I cried out, even as I tried to struggle away from the guards. “I have a better idea.” But the guards kept marching down the aisle.

Nearing the doors of the massive throne room, I panted in desperation, my feet scuffing the floor as they forcibly dragged me away. “Wait, please! Your Majesty!”

His command boomed in the air. “Stop.”

It was as if the air froze all around us when everyone stopped moving in an instant.

“Leave us.”

At his barked words, the guards let me go—so abruptly that I collapsed to my knees, my chains clinking against the marble as the doors slammed shut.

I braced my hands on the floor, trying to catch my breath. I was acutely aware that my loud breathing was the only sound remaining in the imposing, massive hall.