The man was giving his full and undivided attention to a silver platter filled with bite-size cakes that was perched on the windowsill. He selected a cake, popped it into his mouth, and sighed with happiness.
He must have noticed Paloma and me out of the corner of his eye because he glanced in our direction. He quickly popped another cake into his mouth while we walked over to him.
“Ah, there you are, Evie,” he said. “I was just enjoying some treats before the main event.”
In addition to being a former queen’s guard and ringmaster, Cho Yamato also had a serious sweet tooth, as did the dragon on his neck, since its black eyes were still locked onto the tray of cakes.
“I’m glad to see that Theroux is making himself at home as the new kitchen steward,” I said. “And doing his best to ply you with desserts. Or did you steal those from some poor, unsuspecting servant?”
Cho grinned at my teasing. “I stole them, of course. Theroux’s desserts aren’t as good as what you could make, but some sugar is better than no sugar, right?” He didn’t wait for an answer before he downed another tiny kiwi cake.
Joking around with Cho loosened some of the tension in my chest. I might not like being queen, but at least I had friends like him and Paloma to help me with the dangerous undertaking.
He finished his cake, then eyed me. “Are you ready for this?” he asked in a more serious voice.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
He gave me a sympathetic look, as did the dragon face on his neck. “Well, then, let’s start the show.”
Cho dusted the cake crumbs off his fingers and smoothed down his red jacket. Then he strode over so that he was standing in the center of the open space between the doors.
“Announcing Her Royal Highness, Queen Everleigh Saffira Winter Blair!” Cho used his ringmaster’s voice to full effect, and the words boomed out like thunder, drowning out all the conversations in the throne room.
He stepped to the side, and everyone fell silent and turned to peer at me. I gritted my teeth yet again, fixed my bland smile on my face as firmly as I could, and stepped inside.
The throne room was easily the largest area in Seven Spire. The first floor was an empty, cavernous space, except for the massive tearstone columns that jutted up to support the ceiling high, high above. Shorter, thinner columns also rose up to support the second-floor balcony that wrapped around three sides of the room.
More gladiators, weapons, and creatures were carved into the columns, and the ceiling was one enormous battle scene made of gleaming stone, glass, metal, and jewels. In the center of the ceiling, Bryn Bellona Winter Blair, my ancestor, had her sword raised high, about to bring it down on top of the Mortan king, whom she had defeated in combat so long ago to create her kingdom.
My kingdom now.
As much as I would have liked to just stare at the ceiling and pretend like the rest of the world didn’t exist, I forced myself to focus on what was in front of me.
A long, wide blue carpet with silver scrollwork running along the edges led from the doors all the way across the room before stopping at the bottom of the raised stone dais at the far end. As if the carpet and the dais weren’t intimidating enough, Bellonan lords, ladies, senators, guilders, and other wealthy, influential citizens lined both sides of the carpet, all of them staring at me.
It was a brutal gauntlet if ever there was one.
Still holding on to my benign smile, I squared my shoulders, lifted my chin, and strode forward, as though this had been my birthright all along, and not something that I had blundered into by accident after the rest of the Blair royal family had been assassinated.
People stepped up to both sides of the carpet, nodding, smiling, and calling out inane pleasantries. I returned the words and gestures in kind, keeping my face fixed in its pleasant mask, and not letting any of my worry or apprehension show. I might not know how to be queen, but I excelled at keeping my true feelings bottled up inside where no one could see them.
Back behind the line of well-wishers, Paloma walked along, keeping pace with me. Her suspicious gaze scanned over everyone, and she still had her mace hoisted up onto her shoulder. She was taking her duties as my personal guard seriously, even though I’d repeatedly told her that I wasn’t in any physical danger from the nobles.
They would all be quite happy to eviscerate me with their cruel words and sly schemes instead.
Finally, I left the crowd behind and reached the steps that led up to the dais. Three people were standing off to the side.
One of them was a forty-something woman and obviously a warrior, given the sword and dagger that were holstered to her black leather belt. Her short blond hair was slicked back from her face, revealing the sunburst-shaped scar at the corner of one of her blue eyes. She was wearing black leggings and boots, along with a white tunic that featured a swan swimming on a pond, surrounded by flowers and vines, all of it done in black thread.
Serilda Swanson, the leader of the Black Swan gladiator troupe, and one of my senior advisors, tilted her head at me, then executed the perfect Bellonan curtsy. I clenched my teeth a little tighter to hide a grimace. I would never get used to people curtsying to me, especially not someone as strong, lethal, and legendary as Serilda.
The second person was also a woman, although she was older, somewhere in her sixties, with short red hair, golden amber eyes, and bronze skin. She was wearing a forest-green tunic, black leggings, and boots and was leaning on a cane that featured a silver ogre head. It matched the morph mark on her neck.
Lady Xenia, an Ungerian noble, also tilted her head at me, although she didn’t drop down into a curtsy.
The third person was a fifty-something stern-looking man with short gray hair, dark bronze skin, brown eyes, and a lumpy, crooked nose that had obviously been broken many, many times. Like the other guards, he was wearing a short-sleeve blue tunic, along with black leggings and boots. My gaze locked onto his silver breastplate, which featured a feathered texture and my crown of shards emblazoned over his heart. Despite the fact that he had been sporting the breastplate for weeks now, I would never get used to seeing him wearing my crest instead of Queen Cordelia’s rising sun.
Auster, the captain of the queen’s guards and all the others in the palace. My captain now.
Captain Auster’s fingers flexed over the hilt of the sword strapped to his belt, and he gave me a traditional Bellonan bow, holding it far longer than necessary, as if each extra second showed his devotion—and his determination not to let me be assassinated like Queen Cordelia had been.
Auster finally straightened up. I gave him a genuine smile, and his stern features softened a bit, if not his readiness to pull his sword free and defend me with his dying breath.
Even though they weren’t standing anywhere close to the carpet, Serilda, Xenia, and Auster all stepped even farther back, as if further clearing my path to the throne.
I looked up at the queen’s throne perched on top of the dais. The chair was crafted out of jagged pieces of tearstone that had been dug out of Seven Spire and fitted together centuries ago. The throne gleamed with a soft, muted light, shifting from starry gray to midnight-blue and back again, just like the columns did. The changing colors represented the Summer and Winter lines of the Blair royal family, as well as the everlasting strength of the Bellonan people.
I had seen the throne many, many times before, but now that it was mine, I found it far more intimidating, especially since the top featured the same crown of shards that adorned my tunic, bracelet, sword, and dagger. I had never paid any attention to that symbol before the royal massacre, but now it was everywhere I went. Sometimes, I thought that I would have been far happier if I had never seen it at all. I certainly would have been much safer.
Summer queens are fine and fair, with pretty ribbons and flowers in their hair. Winter queens are cold and hard, with frosted crowns made of icy shards.
The words to the old Bellonan fairy tale echoed in my mind, as though
all the queens who had come before me were somehow whispering them to me over and over again. I listened to the echoes a moment longer, then exhaled, slowly climbed up the dais steps, turned around, and sat down on the throne.
That was the signal everyone had been waiting for, and all the lords, ladies, senators, guilders, and others strode forward, stopping a few feet away from the dais. They quickly split into their usual cliques and began gossiping among themselves, while servants circulated through the crowd, handing out kiwi cakes, fresh fruits and cheeses, and glasses of sparkling blackberry sangria.
I looked up at the second-floor balcony. More nobles milled around up there, eating, drinking, talking, and watching me, although they were all poorer and thus far less important than the ones clustered on the first floor.
I started to drop my gaze when I noticed a man sitting by himself in the top corner of the balcony. He was wearing a long gray coat over a black tunic, leggings, and boots. His dark brown hair gleamed under the lights, while a bit of stubble darkened his strong jaw. His handsome features were as blank as mine were, and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, although his blue eyes burned into mine with fierce intensity.
My nostrils flared. Even though he was as far away from me as possible, I could still pick out his scent—cold, clean vanilla with just a hint of spice—above all the other ones in the room. I drew in another breath, letting his scent sink deep down into my lungs, and trying to ignore the hot spark of desire that it ignited inside me.
Lucas Sullivan was the magier enforcer of the Black Swan troupe, a bastard prince of Andvari, and my . . . Well, I didn’t know what Sully was to me. Much more than a friend, but not a lover, despite my pointed advances on that front. But I cared about him far more than I wanted to think about, especially right now, when I was facing yet another battle inside my own palace.
So I dropped my gaze from his and looked back out over the nobles again. Even though I had been queen for several weeks now, ever since I had killed Vasilia, the crown princess and my treacherous cousin, this was my first formal court session. Everyone had come here to discuss business and other matters with me, and it was important that things went well. I doubted they would, though. The nobles weren’t going to like some of the things I had to say.
While the nobles chattered and downed their food and drinks, I discreetly drew in a breath, letting the air roll in over my tongue, and tasting all the scents in it. The people’s floral perfumes and spicy colognes. The fruity tang of the sangria. The pungent aroma of the blue cheeses that the servants were slicing on the buffet tables along the walls.
I opened my mouth to start the session, when one final scent assaulted my senses—jalapeño rage so strong that it made my nose burn with its sudden, sharp intensity.
Most people might scoff at my mutt magic, but my enhanced sense of smell was quite useful in one regard—it let me sense people’s emotions, and very often their intentions. Garlic guilt, ashy shame, minty regret. I could tell what someone was feeling, and often what they were plotting, just by tasting the scents that swirled in the air around them.
I’d had years to hone my mutt magic, so I knew that jalapeño rage only meant one thing.
Someone here wanted to kill me.
About the Author
Jennifer Estep is a New York Times, USA Today, and internationally bestselling author who prowls the streets of her imagination in search of her next fantasy idea.
In addition to the Crown of Shards series, Jennifer is also the author of the Elemental Assassin, Mythos Academy, Black Blade, and Bigtime series.
For more information on Jennifer and her books, visit her website at www.jenniferestep.com or follow her online on Facebook, Goodreads, and Twitter—@Jennifer_Estep. You can also sign up for her newsletter at www.jenniferestep.com/contact-jennifer/newsletter.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com .
Also by Jennifer Estep
The Crown of Shards Series
Kill The Queen
Protect the Prince (forthcoming)
The Elemental Assassin Series
Spider’s Bite
Web of Lies
Venom
Tangled Threads
Spider’s Revenge
By a Thread
Widow’s Web
Deadly Sting
Heart of Venom
The Spider
Poison Promise
Black Widow
Spider’s Trap
Bitter Bite
Unraveled
Snared
Venom in the Veins
The Mythos Academy Series
Touch of Frost
Kiss of Frost
Dark Frost
Crimson Frost
Midnight Frost
Killer Frost
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Excerpt from protect the prince copyright © 2019 by Jennifer Estep.
kill the queen . Copyright © 2018 by Jennifer Estep. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers. For information, address HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.
Digital Edition OCTOBER 2018 ISBN: 978-0-06-279762-9
Print Edition ISBN: 978-0-06-279761-2
Designed by Paula Russell Szafranski
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HarperCollins is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Publishers in the United States of America and other countries.
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Kill the Queen (Crown of Shards #1) Page 78