Page 27 of The Faebound Trials (Mates and Madness: The Phantom Prince and The Bloodweaver #1)

Asael

To strike a king.

To strike even the smallest bug.

There was only one way to crush them.

My hands brushed the vial of the disease that made even kings fall on their knees.

I took a deep breath. The Bonbell remained hot, heavier than it was supposed to be, a reminder of what I did before.

And what I would do right now.

I moved like a shadow, silent as the wind, blight as a whisper of a dead man’s sorrow.

The light through the tallest tower remained open, like a welcome invitation for anyone who would attempt to strike the King of Embergrave.

Two minutes now and his men would change guard. One to the east bridge. Two to the window veil. Three down the biggest room in the tower’s end.

I never missed. And today wouldn’t be the first.

After this I’d travel the three mountains to find Enoranthas. To be with her.

I’d even join the trials just to find her.

If that was what it takes to be with her.

It was time. I saw one was coming from the opposite ends. Two were walking from below, about to enter the tower.

I started moving stealthily, walking in a way that matched their pace. I had spent weeks studying their movements.

And the only way to get in was to become one with their shadows, be in between the gaps of their paces toward the changing point.

And when I crossed the edge between where the light hits the wall, blocking any image passing through the stairs, I jumped, leaping like a bird into the sky up into the edge of the window.

There he was.

Nikolai sat facing the hearth. Eyes fixated on an open book the size of his palm.

He should’ve sensed me by now.

What was he reading that he hadn’t noticed me?

Taking the vial from my pocket, eyes never leaving my victim, I poured the liquid Bonbell down the pots of plants placed before his window ledge.

For Bonbell to take effect, one would only need to smell it once.

Bonbell was undetectable, it would take months before it showed symptoms.

Bonbell slowly kills mortals.

And by the time the symptoms had turned your nails a different shade, that was when it was too late.

I kept still when Nikolai suddenly stood up. I hid and hung onto the edge, my hands taking all the weight of my body as I waited for Nikolai to turn his back to the window.

After a few minutes I heard him close the door to his room.

Breathing carefully, I pulled myself up only to find the book was now placed above the table.

The book’s cover was made out of the darkest shade of green.

My eyes fell on the letters of the ancient tongue messily written above the translated words of today’s language.

It was the same book I had seen the other day when I purchased Bonbell.

It was the same silly children’s tale I’d seen those two bloodweavers had brought that day.

I grabbed the book without thinking and hid it in my pocket, fingers brushing the delicate obsidian green leather, and feeling the warmth and mystery from the cracks of the cover.

I didn’t think twice about letting myself fall from the tallest tower.

I let gravity pull me and before I could hit the ground, I let the wind reduce the impact.

And then I ran into the wild, my pocket, heavy with a children’s tale about a phantom prince and a time traveler destined to ruin each other again and again.

Who knows? Maybe I was wrong. Maybe what I knew about the tale was wrong.

There was only one way to find out.