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Lord Castemont nodded. “All corridors from here to the throne room have been blocked off. Only the necessary people know what is going on today. The rest of the Royal Court has been made aware of your need for anonymity.” I didn’t hear the contempt in his voice, but I knew it was there.

I nodded. “And the priest is waiting?”

“Yes, with the crown and scepter. We’ll have a private meal in your keep afterwards.”

I inhaled and took one final look in the mirror as just Cal. “Okay. I’m ready.”

? ? ?

“I’m proud of you. You know that, right?” Lord Castemont said, his voice low as he walked alongside me to the throne room. “I’m so very proud.”

I bowed my head. “Thank you, my Lord.”

“And we’re on track with the mission.”

My stomach turned at the mention of it. Every time I’d managed to push it just far enough out of my brain to forget about it for just one moment of peace, it came crashing back in. I’d taken Castemont’s word that this needed to be done, that the Daughter of Katia needed to die. I just hated that I had to be the one to do it.

“You know, this anonymity thing may actually work better than my original idea,” he murmured, his voice low.

I exhaled. I was sick of talking about the plan. I was sick of thinking about the plan. I was sick of being a part of this stupid fucking plan. But I answered anyway, because I knew he wouldn’t drop it. “Yeah?”

“A member of the Royal Guard is much more approachable than a king. She’ll probably be faster to relax and let her defenses down.”

“Probably,” I answered absentmindedly.

“Definitely. I’m sorry I doubted you. It’ll move the plan along much quicker.” I didn’t answer, keeping my eyes ahead. “There’s something I need to tell you, Cal,” he said suddenly. There was concern in his tone, and the way he looked at me mirrored that.

“What?”

He peered back to where Aunt Berna walked with Tyrak behind us. “There is no way for me to officially court your aunt.”

The words settled between us. His eyes stayed on me, as if he were watching for my reaction as we walked through the barricaded corridors. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what my reaction was. But I feigned shock and sorrow like I knew I should. “Why not?”

“The law clearly states that royalty cannot marry outside their ranks.”

“Am I not able to override that as King?”

“Unfortunately the laws are set. I can petition the court all I want, but they will never budge, even if you intervene.”

I knew I could fight the law, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I could easily go to the library and pore over tomes to find some kind of loophole. It would be worth Aunt Berna’s happiness. Uneasiness settled over me as we walked, and I forced myself to play the part I felt I should. “What did she say when you told her?”

“I haven’t had the heart to tell her yet. I just can’t stand to be the one to make her upset.”

Of course he hadn’t told her, which meant I had to. I was the one who was going to be the bad guy. Lord Castemont was putting me in the position to explain to Aunt Berna that she couldn’t marry the love of her life.

The doors to the throne room were propped open already. My eyes flashed over the carved marble columns, settling on the two depicting Noros. The first was the Blood Saint on his knees, back to the viewer with fingers flexed in the dirt as if the Saint of Pain was in pain himself. He was outside Katia’s palace, the entirety of the structure covered with vining flowers. His great ruby encrusted sword, Aegrabane, was strewn on the ground beside him. The second column was a carving of the Saint sitting upon his throne, his facial features too nondescript to tell what he looked like. Blood cascaded down the arms of the throne to a pool on the floor. He was pain incarnate, and he looked the part.

The priest stood smiling on the dais, the Book of Saints in his wrinkled hands. The crown and scepter waited on a velvet pillow that sat on an altar just beside the throne. And the throne… I’d seen it a thousand times while in the Royal Guard as court was held, but seeing it now was another thing entirely. It was a massive mahogany monstrosity detailed in gold. The sight of it made me wildly uncomfortable, but I had no choice but to keep walking.

Today, I’d be crowned King of Widoras. But what made me even more nervous was the fact that I was going to have to break my Aunt Berna’s heart.

? ? ?

“To King Belin Cal Myrin,” Lord Castemont said, his goblet raised high in the air. His brown eyes glinted in the chandelier’s light. There was far too much food for the four of us, and I gnashed my teeth together to keep from complaining. Half of this could have gone to someone who needed it, and we’d still have more than enough.

“To King Belin Cal Myrin,” Aunt Berna answered, clinking her goblet with Tyrak’s and the Lord’s. “Long may he reign. Though I wish he’d reign in something other than leathers.”

I rolled my eyes. I’d changed almost immediately from the ceremonial attire to my leathers. They were far more comfortable. Besides, I’d looked fucking ridiculous.