Page 164

Several guards decided the floor deserved their full attention.

The older man set down his sword. “We were commanded.”

“I know. That’s why you’re walking out instead of being carried.”

He looked at Adrian’s dead marks fading from his wrists, then lowered his head. Weapons struck stone across the court.

Lenora pointed towards the damaged main doors. “Form a line and move. Anyone who reaches for a weapon gets to explain the choice to me.”

“You said you weren’t commander,” the bloodied guard said.

“I’m discovering that retirement doesn’t suit me.”

The first guards stood. They moved slowly at first, then faster as Harrowmere opened a clear route through the ruined entrance hall.

I felt each vampire cross the threshold. Harrowmere released them without resistance. They gathered beyond the split main gate while the last of Adrian’s soldiers came out through the service passage.

No one fought, and no one asked to stay. The line kept moving until every guard had passed beyond the gate and started down the road.

When the final guard cleared the grounds, Lenora came back inside and shoved the damaged main door as far as it would go. One hinge hung loose from the wall.

“That won’t hold,” she said.

“It doesn’t have to.”

I pressed my palm to the throne.

Harrowmere answered through stone, iron and old white wards. The broken doors dragged together as cracks closed around their frames. Outside, twisted iron pulled straight and locked the split gate into place. A slab of stone sealed the service entrance.

Harrowmere settled around us with a deep shudder.

Silence reached the throne room.

Lenora tested the main doors. They didn’t move. “Useful.”

“I’m adding that to my list of queenly talents.”

“It’s still a short list.” Her smile faded when she looked towards Stellan. “The court is secure. I’ll take the others through the rooms and check for anyone Adrian left behind.”

“Thank you.”

Lenora nodded once. She gathered the three freed guards and led them out through a side door.

The latch had barely closed when I left the throne and crossed the room.

Stellan caught me when I reached him, though his grip lacked its usual strength. I put one arm around his waist and kept the other away from the wet tear in his shirt.

“You’re bleeding everywhere.”

“And you were magnificent.”

The bond carried the rough drag of his pain and the fierce relief underneath it. I pressed my forehead to his chest and listened to his heart.

“We did it,” I said.

His hand slid into my hair and stopped when his fingers touched the Crown. “We did.”

I lifted my head. Blood streaked one side of his face, and the wound in his side still hadn’t closed. He was alive, Adrian was dead and the guards were gone. Harrowmere belonged to us.