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The Runaway King: Chapter 8


I left the throne room alone, too wound up for sleep and too exhausted for everything this night still required of me.

The last thing I needed was to come face-to-face with Amarinda, who had clearly been waiting in the passageway for the meeting to end. I offered her a curt nod of respect, then said, “Which of the regents are you waiting for? Or is Gregor the one you want most?”

Amarinda’s almond-colored eyes narrowed as her gaze descended on me. She was uncommonly pretty and had a way of unnerving me whenever I looked directly at her. So I rarely did.

“I came to speak with you.” Her tone was livid. “I heard what you did to Imogen. How dare you? She did nothing to deserve that!”

I turned on her with my own anger. “And tell me, what did Conner do to deserve such a fine meal, hand-delivered by you?”

“You were supposed to have eaten it tonight, at supper with me!” I couldn’t argue with her there. For the past week, I’d found something better to do at nearly every mealtime. Then her temper cooled. “I had hoped you’d be there, so we could talk.”

Something in her voice made me regret having so casually dismissed the time with her. “All right. Perhaps we should talk now.”

I held out my arm for her and we began walking down the corridor. Several seconds passed when I couldn’t think of anything to say, and she seemed equally uncomfortable. Finally, she said, “You want what’s best for Carthya and so do I. Why are we so far apart?”

Because she had brought food and comfort to a man who had tried to kill me. And confided in another man who was at that moment working to take my throne.

I replaced her question with one of my own. “How was the funeral? I only heard a small part of it.”

She pressed her lips together, then said, “It was lovely. Though I must say that even if you’re angry about what your family did to you, it was terribly disrespectful not to attend.”

“I’m not angry with them, and I didn’t want to miss it.”

“Then what could possibly have taken priority? Unless you were lying somewhere half-dead, you should have been there!”

I stopped and stared at her. She tilted her head as she realized what that meant. “Oh no. Forgive me for not knowing. What are we going to do?”

She said we, and that stopped me for a moment. Despite her loyalties to Gregor, was it possible she wanted a stronger partnership for us?

“Before anything else, will you help Imogen?” I asked. “See that she has whatever she needs to live in comfort . . . elsewhere.”

“Please let her stay. Whatever she did to offend you, she’s still my friend, and she has nowhere else to go.”

“She cannot stay here,” I mumbled. “That decision is final.”

“But why —” Then she caught herself, as if understanding the things I could not explain. “All right. I’ll help her.”

“Send word when that’s done, and we’ll finish talking.” If nothing else, I owed her total honesty about my plans.

It was rude not to offer her an escort to Imogen’s room, but I didn’t want to go anywhere near that part of the castle tonight. So with our exchanged bows, she left in one direction and I in the other. Only seconds later, I heard Gregor’s voice near the princess. “My lady, may I see you to where you’re going?”

Amarinda cooed in delight, then accepted his offer. And with that, any goodwill between her and me vanished. If she did not seek me out later tonight, I would not find her.

Before returning to my room I stopped in the library to find some books for the trip. The castle library wasn’t my favorite place. This was because in the center of the main wall was a large portrait of my family, painted a year ago. In it, my parents sat beside each other with my brother standing behind them. After I found the books I wanted, I stared at the painting for a moment, wondering if any of them had thought about me while they posed. As often as I tried, I could not sort out my feelings about what my father had done. Did he cost me the life I should have had, or did he save my life?

It was too much, and I left the room without looking back.

I returned to my chambers as quickly as I could, where Mott was anxiously waiting for news. His eyes went to the items in my hand. I attempted to cover the title of the top book but it was too late. “Pirate books?” he said. “What are those for?”

“No, Mott.”

“I remember you telling Conner that you’re not a great reader, unless the subject interests you.”

I pushed past him. “We leave at dawn. Tobias too. Make sure he knows.”

“Where —” Mott stopped when I turned to him, then said, “Jaron, are you ill? You don’t look good.”

I slowly shook my head as I backed into my room. “No questions. Just be ready by morning.”


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