Seven Ways to Kill a King (Exclusive Edition)

“I release you from your duty,” she said.

Cass’s brow lowered dangerously.

“If you don’t want to help me, then go. It’s better to find out here and be done with it. I’m more than willing to do this alone.”

He shifted so near that his breath brushed her skin. His words were a quiet vow. “I do not answer to you, Princess. My duty is to the queen. Her word is my law.”

The way he’d said “princess” felt like a slap—or worse, like he’d been calling her Bean, like she was nothing and she had no control of what he would do.

He was right, and she knew it, and the notion made searing heat fill her chest. She wanted to roar like her sister and scream and tear. His eyes flicked over her face and caught the flare of her nostrils and the color in her cheeks. She hated him for it. She hated everything.

Her fingers curled into her palms, and voice cold, she said, “I have traveled the seven kingdoms since the year I was born. I know every palace. I know every route. I have insight and reason, and I’m good with a sword.” She knew those kings—the men who’d killed her mother—with a familiarity that hurt. Her eyes cut into Cass’s, and the room took on an eerie early-morning glow. “I will tell you what else, Cassius of Stormskeep. I will die with my hands covered in king’s blood. And I will die more satisfied than any fool who escapes to the sea.”

His jaw went tight at the way she’d said his name, but Cass only inclined his head. “As you say,” he whispered. His dark eyes grazed hers as he made to stand. “And so we ride into death together.”