Page 135 of Heartbreak Prince

“You. I fucking knew it.” He points his sword at me. “You have been a problem since that first night.”

The cadence of that voice—I remember it in the context of someone giving me directions, instructions, guidance—

As I circle him, my brain flits through all the professors and trainers I’ve had. None of their voices match. “Who are you?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re dying at my feet.” He lunges, and I parry a hail of mighty blows, barely managing to sustain the force of them. I dodge behind the easel, and the Paladin angrily smashes it to pieces, as I calculated he might. The force of his blow frees the two small blades hidden within the upright part of the frame.

I throw my long knife at the Paladin, without looking to see if my aim is true, and I roll across the floor, snatching up my claw knives. They had to be sealed into the easel, so I didn’t have time to extract them before. Now that they’re in my hands, I feel a fresh surge of confidence.

Spinning them around my fingers, I face the Paladin.

He’s touching the side of his neck where my thrown sword nicked him. Not a mortal wound, or there would be more blood.

“I’ll admit it.” He shakes his helmeted head, renewing his grip on the broadsword. “I underestimated you. I dispatched Kresser so I could replace him with someone less loyal, less capable—a weak link, easy to eliminate. But you’re tenacious, I’ll give you that. Who would have thought you’d last this long? You’d never even killed anyone, or drawn blood outside of class or a practice ring.”

The way he says it, the inflection…

A harsh chill breaks out over my skin. “Renfrow?”

He pauses, then pulls off his helmet and pitches it aside. It hits the floor with a metallic clang, chipping the tile.

“I watched you die.” I blink at him, trying to re-interpret my memories of that first night.

“Did you? Or did you see me fall into a cluster of enemies?”

“But that sliver of red light—the attack magic—it was aimed at you. I protected you.”

“Or did you foolishly dodge in front of me to block a spell sent by one of my own men? I would have easily deflected it.”

“Why the show? Why pretend to fight your own people?”

“I had to be seen defending the prince. I was too well known to openly turn against the Crown—I had to die before I could take up this helmet, this role.”

“No.” I shake my head. “No, you wouldn’t betray Vawn. You took care of him. You were his bodyguard for years.”

“Oh yes. For fucking years. And when I chose you for that lineup, I knew he’d pick you. I know him, inside and out. Every stupid thought, every selfish impulse. I know what his asshole looks like. I’ve heard him vomit. I’ve had to guard him through orgies and binges and drugged stupors. Trust me, he’s not worth protecting.”

“You don’t know him as well as you think you do.” I move carefully toward Renfrow, my knives still flicking back and forth.

He watches my blades, as he should, but he keeps talking, words wrenching from him like they’re being torn out by sheer frustration. “This plan should have gone smoothly. You cocked it up for me. Dragged it out unnecessarily long, made me do things that I—” He lets out an exasperated growl. “Without you, the idiot prince would never have lasted this long. We’d have had him in the dungeon that first night.”

I indulge in a smile, realizing that I have occupied this man’s thoughts ever since Vawn and I rode out of the Lyre & Vice on a magic carpet.

“Why the masks, the secret identities, the subterfuge?” I sidle around Renfrow and he circles with me, his sword at the ready.

“A coup masterminded by a royal bodyguard would be considered treachery,” he says. “It wouldn’t be given the political weight it deserved. I had allies, people willing to stand with me, and mercenaries to amplify our ranks, but I lacked support from the nobility. Instead, I used mystery and secrecy. People fear what they cannot fully see. The disguises gave us a chance to take over quickly and quietly, without being immediately labeled as traitors or rebels.”

“You wanted to minimize casualties,” I say. “That’s why you only took prisoners until we escaped you at the Tularesk border. Then you lost your temper.”

“I did not lose my temper!” He rushes at me, but I catch his blade between my knives and wrench his arm while I spin aside. A quick cartwheel around him, and I manage a stab to his back, beneath his left ribs. He whirls toward me, roaring in pain, and smashes the hilt of his sword against my right shoulder. I scream as the joint pops out of its socket.

My right-hand knife rattles on the floor, and I retreat with my dislocated arm hanging painfully limp. I point my other knife at Renfrow, putting a pillar between us and casting a nervous look at the guards in the room. Any second now, they will begin to move again.

“Who’s your puppet there?” I nod to the immobilized figure on the throne.

“Oh, you know him too. But don’t worry about that. Your brief life is over. Too bad. You made a decent bodyguard.”

“Wait,” I gasp, backing away. “I have one more question. Why did you want Vawn alive?”