AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Clever lad.
Smarter than I’d give a son of Lucar’s credit for.
There’s potential in this one. Maybe all of the baron’s desperate efforts haven’t gone to waste after all.
Kastel’s head snaps toward Aderick so fast I fear he’ll get whiplash. “No way.Fuckin’ oath.”
He looks at me.
Then at his brother.
Then back at me.
“No…”
A soft groan of dismay escapes his lips as he bows his head. His shoulders slump. He prepares to drop to his knees, but I hold up my hand, deciding to put the kid out of his misery. He was trying to defend Finley, after all. “No offense taken, Kastel of Ruen. Apart from our brief encounter that day, you wouldn’t have any way of knowing what I look like. As you can see, my condition has changed my appearance to a startling degree.”
“I…” He looks utterly crestfallen. “W-what happened to you?” he blurts, shaking his head slowly, before it dawns on him that his line of questioning might be highly inappropriate. “I mean… I didn’t mean to be so forward, but…”
“We waged a war against magic,” I say softly. “I got hit by the magic. There were… as you can see,side-effects.”
“S-sorry. I wasn’t trying to be rude. I just…”
“Forgive him, Corvan. Sometimes, Kastel speaks before he thinks.” Finley attempts to smooth things over; cool and calm on the outside in spite of her fluttering heartbeat.
“It’s fine.” Unable to help myself, I move closer.
A tiny puff of relief escapes her lips.
I want to tease her.What, did you think I’d take the lad’s head off for his unfettered curiosity?
“Make yourselves comfortable and enjoy the evening’s festivities. The tourney is about to start.” I smile, giving them a glimpse of my fangs. I am what I am. What does it matter if I look so very different; if they catch a glimpse of my unnaturalness.
They can’t touch me.
Not here, in my very own fortress.
Now Captain Kinnivar arrives, along with his companions. Nothing like a bit of military company to dilute the family drama.
The seats at the far end—the honorary positions—are reserved for Kaithar and Vinciel.
I tip my head. “Kyron. Galaen. Ingvar. Renfrei.”
“Your Highness.” Kinnivar and his band of highly trained warriors acknowledge me with respectful nods as they take their seats at the table, masking their unease well.
I put my hand on Finley’s waist. If she’s intimidated or nervous, she certainly doesn’t show it.
In this room full of tough, scarred men, she stands out from the men like a rare and delicate flower.
One that none would dare touch, because she is so very clearlymine.
“Come, Finley,” I murmur, guiding her away from the shocked boys; from her terrified-yet-furious father. “Take your place beside me and see the men I serve—the ones that will lay down their lives for you. We aren’t perfect, but we’ll defend these lands and people to the death. The Imperial Palace holds very little sway here.”
I pull out her chair and offer her a seat.
She looks up at me with naked curiosity. “The menyouserve?”
“A true member of the nobility understands that even though one might be waited on hand and foot, the real servant is he or she that rules.”
