Chapter 16 · Blood on the Crown

"You're bleeding on the marble." Halrik's voice came from the throne dais, calm as a man reading weather reports.

I kept my hand pressed to the prince's shoulder, steering him toward the servant hall. The cut across my ribs was still leaking. "Not the first time."

"Stop walking, Dane."

I didn't.

"I said stop."

The prince's breath hitched. "Kira, maybe we should—"

"Keep moving," I told him. Low. Flat.

Footsteps behind us. Not Halrik's. Heavier. I'd counted four guards when we came in. Now I heard six. Maybe eight.

"You know what happens when you ignore a direct order," Halrik said. Still calm. Still seated. "I have archers on the balcony. Two crossbows on you. Three on the boy."

I stopped.

The prince stumbled into my back. "Kira—"

"Shut up," I said.

Halrik stood. His boots clicked on the stone, slow and even. "Turn around."

I turned. Kept the prince behind me.

Halrik looked good. Clean uniform. Gold braid on the shoulders. The kind of shine that came from never getting close to a real fight. He stopped ten feet out, hands loose at his sides.

"You were supposed to be dead," he said.

"I was.