Page 14 of Crown of Iron (The Crown Trilogy #1)

My chance to feel the sun on my skin comes when Kyron rounds the lake and disappears into the trees on the other side.

My heart pounds with the beat of Nortus' hooves and dread bubbles inside me.

If I lose the general, I lose my chance to learn what he's up to and bend it to my will.

I can't let that happen, and I refuse to wait for him and his soldiers to accept me.

I squeeze my knees to Nortus' sides to urge him on. We bound through the trees where there’s no sign of Kyron.

There’s not a single shaking leaf or horseshoe print in the dirt.

The horse strolls the rugged path while I'm on the verge of giving up hope.

Minutes pass without a glimpse of him and then the trees give way to a small town.

Kyron bolts through the weather worn gates sitting under a rustic water tower, and I follow suit several seconds later.

We zigzag through the streets where the town's people are beginning their day.

Horse drawn wagons haul sacks of grains, a blacksmith hammers glowing metal, and a woman with a toddler clinging to her leg sells fresh baked bread.

This place isn't much different than the capital.

The walls are smaller, less secure, and a palace doesn't loom in the background, but the people could easily be those who roam the streets I frequent.

The road narrows as we reach the outskirts of town.

Quaint log homes with tin roofs the colors of jewels are scattered between massive pine trees.

Kyron guides Samson to the last house on the street.

He dismounts and ties the horse to a tree where a thick patch of grass grows.

Keeping my distance, I move Nortus off the road.

After securing him, I use the thick tree trunks for cover and sneak over to the side of the house.

The home has seen better days. Specks of blue paint from the roof and doors litter the ground like azure snowflakes.

The linked logs creating the outer walls have splintered with clay puttied into the cracks.

I gingerly step through the blossoming vegetable garden, making my way to the front corner.

Three rapid knocks echo with the chirping birds, and I hold my breath.

The front door creaks open, and I peek around the house.

I can't see who stands on the other side of the threshold, but Kyron's question to them is loud and clear.

“Are you ready to do this?”

The front door swings open wider, and a cracking prepubescent voice answers, “Yes! Let me get my shoes on.”

“Kyron! Mama, Kyron's here.” A girl, no older than five, bolts out the door.

The tight black curls secured into round ponytails on either side of her head bounce as she flings her chubby arms around the general's legs.

Her round cheek presses into the side of his thigh, causing her full, pink lips to pout.

She looks like a small angel clinging to the handsome demon who lurks in the shadows.

Kyron laughs and pats her on the top of the head. “Hello, Mia. How is the most beautiful girl in the world doing today?”

“Good,” she groans, hugging him with all her might.

A woman in a tan dress and floral apron walks out of the house.

Dark curls sit piled on the top of her head, and bags frame her kind hazel eyes.

She runs her slender hands down her thighs, leaving a trail of flour, before placing them on her hips.

“Mia Rose, how do you expect Kyron to move around today when you're stuck to his leg?”

The girl flashes a mischievous smile up at him, and her little bare feet move on top of his boot. “He can do it.”

“You expect me to walk around like this all day?” He lifts his leg in exaggerated steps, hoisting the girl off the ground.

She breaks into hysterical laughter and demands that he keep walking.

And he does. It's not until her mother intervenes that she loosens her grip and slides her small hand into his.

She turns her wide eyes up to him and flashes a grin.

Statera help the child, she's smitten with him .

Kyron pulls the leather pouch he was shoving coins into last night out of his jacket pocket. I lean in closer and strain to catch every word. This is the moment I've been waiting for—the reveal of his big secret—the information I’ll use to force him to do what I need.

“Some of the others threw in a little extra. I remember how you said Mia and Blaze were growing out of their clothes. I thought you could use it to buy them some new shoes.”

New shoes? Kyron and his officers gathered money to help this woman buy her children shoes? Where is the seedy exchange, the reason for him to sneak off at dawn? Where is the information I'm going to use to blackmail him?

“Kyron,” the woman says, pressing one hand to her chest while the other shakes off his offer.

“Please take it, Shianne. It's the least I can do.”

Shianne hesitates for a moment before nodding. She squeezes his bicep and says, “You've done more than enough.”

He opens his mouth as if to protest but his words are cut short. A young man, in his early teens, runs out the door. Like Kyron, he wears all black and his dark wavy hair comes up just shy of his chin. His golden-brown skin matches his mother and sister, and he shares the same face-consuming grin.

The boy bounces on the balls of his feet and says, “I'm ready to get to work.”

“You be careful with that axe, Blaze. I don't want you lopping off a toe,” Shianne says.

“Come on, Mama. I'm old enough to cut the firewood.”

With a stern look, she says, “Don't give me any backtalk, young man. You follow Kyron's orders.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Blaze walks toward the other side of the house, with his shoulders slumped. I'm sure he’s a little embarrassed after being chastised in front of a man he obviously idolizes.

Kyron lowers his voice and says, “I won't let him use the axe unless I'm watching him.”

“Thank you.”

Once Shianne and Mia head back into the house, Kyron follows after Blaze .

I release a breath that rattles my lips and stare up at the sky.

Throughout my life, I've made my fair share of mistakes, but none of them compared to this.

I'm a complete fool. Not only is Kyron not committing treason, his actions are noble.

I run my hand over my face, trying to wipe away my shame, and push away from the wall.

I'm ready to return to Basecamp, so I can crawl into bed and hide. Lesson learned: I make a terrible spy.

Defeated, I head in Nortus' direction.

Steps rush up behind me and a hand wraps around my wrist. Terror surges within me and I swing around, my hand balled in a fist. I stop short of throwing a punch when I come face to face with raging black eyes ringed in amber.

“What the fuck are you doing here, princess?” Kyron hisses.

“I was—I thought… How did you know I was here?”

“I knew you were up to something when I saw you in the stables this morning. You almost got away with it, but I caught a glimpse of you back at Lake Holly.”

I knew I should’ve stayed in the cover of the trees, especially when he was going around the lake.

“Why did you follow me?” he asks, stepping forward.

I move back with wide eyes and no answer.

Another step and again I maintain the space between us. “I asked you a question.”

“I—I…”

My back collides with the side of the house.

Kyron traps me with a hand braced above either side of my head.

My breath hitches, and I struggle to keep my eyes locked on his.

His irises threaten to drown me in their inky depths, but the captivating golden brown surrounding his pupils anchors me.

I should look away and back down. I'm in the wrong, but my pride won't let me.

His chest heaves, coming dangerously close to mine, and my lungs fill with his scent. “You're toeing a fine line, so choose your words wisely. What are you doing here?”

My body vibrates with the low rumble of his voice. Every fiber of my being liquefies and I'm seconds from melting at his feet. He terrifies me, confuses me, and captivates me. I'm a cluster of nonsensical emotions in his presence.

Why? Why does he have me so out of sorts?

Forcing my words from my dry mouth, I manage to say, “I made a mistake.”

Kyron's jaw ticks and his stare burns with fury. “You want to be a soldier? Here's your first lesson: mistakes have consequences.”

“I know,” I whisper.

“I don't think you do, so I'm going to make sure you never forget.”

The brutal images flashing through my head contain whippings and shackles. Or even worse, my gift being unwillingly siphoned from me. My stomach turns and I steady my breathing to keep from vomiting.

“You're going to walk up to that door, knock, and introduce yourself to Shianne. Let her know you're one of my soldiers, and you're here to help as punishment. Tell her you would like to do the one task in her house she's been dreading and get to work.”

Relief washes over me, cooling my heated skin. “Okay.”

I move to slip out from under his arm, but he blocks me. His breath brushes my cheek as he brings his mouth to my ear. “If you fuck this up, I suggest you not return to Basecamp. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” I say, unable to mask the quaking in my voice.

Kyron pushes away from me and turns on his heels.

I sink against the wall while every basic function of my body resumes. This could have been so much worse. It shouldn’t surprise me. Every assumption I’ve come to about the general has been proven wrong. The only thing I have figured out about the man is that I know nothing about him.

I make my way to the front door, and an hour later, Shianne has the cleanest washroom in all of Lucent. I scrubbed every corner, wiped down the walls and dried the tub until it shined. What started off as penance ended up a labor of love.