Angar made a gurgling sound.
She glanced at him, her hand hardly moving as she claimed the scroll from the cavity so as not to attract the guard’s attention. “Surely you know to check for messages in their stomachs. Trolls are known for… What is it?”
His horrified expression had Ivy somewhat nervous, an unfamiliar feeling.
He pointed to the vulture’s claw. Which had been painted silverly purple.
Like the dagger’s hilt in their crest. Shock caused her to drop the bird. Luckily, she had already concealed the scroll.
“Now you’ve done it,” Angar hissed. “You’re going to get me killed.”
“Why would Father—”
“I do a lot of things, Barbarian-Princess Ivy, that you need not concern yourself with.” Her father’s booming voice set Ivy’s teeth on edge. She dipped her head even though she should have touched her forehead to the ground, as Angar did. The guard wasn’t a barbarian. He was a lapdog.
“Perhaps if you would share more information with me,” Ivy returned easily, “then errors would not be made.”
“All you do is commit errors and bring shame.”
Her face flushed hot. How dare he reprimand her in front of a mere guard!
“You were training a vulture?” she questioned, her voice even and not betraying the swirl of emotions coursing throughout her body, threatening her vision and nearly paralyzing her arms.
The barbaron nudged the dead bird with his foot. The last rays of the violet sun highlighted the gray strands mixed in her father’s blond hair. His piercing blue eyes were as cold as ever as he fixed them on her.
“You might as well tell me now,” Ivy continued. “There’s no point in keeping it a secret any longer. Admit it, you wished to use it to intercept troll messages. But how? Trolls aren’t color blind. No other vulture has claws such as his.”
“You need not concern yourself with this.” He picked up the dead bird with more tenderness than he’d ever shown her. “Angar, escort Barbarian-Princess Ivy back to her room.”
She thought not.
“I will remain in the tower until my relief comes.” Her tower duty, as much as she hated it, would continue on for another four more hours.
“Your relief already came.” The barbaron growled, his gray-splattered goatee not hiding his scowl.
At least Angar had the decency to appear apologetic. And he knew better than to touch her. With her a half step behind him, they walked to the stone fortress drawbridge and entered. On the third floor, Angar opened her door.
She breezed past him but paused in the doorway. “Why didn’t you stop me from gutting it? You knew about Father training the vulture.” Just a guess, but indicative pink blotches colored his cheeks. “You saw the purple claws.”
“Not until after.” He bowed deeply, head low, and sped off.
The barbarian knew more than he was saying. Why would a guard, not even the captain of it, seem to be a confidant to her father, the barbaron?
Like a caged animal, Ivy paced her room. Being alone with her thoughts was not something she relished. No, she was a woman of action.
She called for her handmaiden and instructed her, and no one else, to bother her for the rest of the evening.
“But you haven’t eaten dinner yet, Your Highness.” Weedna rubbed her hands together, head down.
Ivy stifled back a sigh. Weedna was more a gnat than a barbarian. Probably would rather break an ankle than step on an insect. “I’m fine. Go now.”
“If you’re sure…”
The barbarian-princess narrowed her eyes, and Weedna scampered out with a whimper, closing the door behind her.
Ivy locked it and raced to her window. As she had since she turned three, she climbed out and landed on a soft bush. A walk might serve to clear her head.
But she traveled miles, unable to diminish her unease as her muscles grew tight, her heart palpitating, her mouth dry. Returning to her rock bed would not serve any purpose. Sleep would not be a reprieve this night. By now, she neared the border of their land.
A wide stream gurgled to her right, and she knelt beside it to drink when the tip of a blade stuck to the side of her throat.
“Do not move,” an unfamiliar voice growled.
About the Author
K.N. Lee is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who resides in Charlotte, North Carolina. When she is not writing twisted tales, fantasy novels, and dark poetry, she does a great deal of traveling and promotes other authors. Wannabe rockstar, foreign language enthusiast, and anime geek, K.N. Lee also enjoys helping others reach their writing and publishing goals.
She is signed with Captive Quill Press and Patchwork Press.
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Also by K.N. Lee
The Dragon Born Saga:
Half-Blood Dragon
Magic-Born Dragon
Queen of the Dragons
The Dragon Prophecy Saga:
Royal Spell
Night Spell
Magic Spell
The Chronicles of Koa Series:
Netherworld
Dark Prophet
Blood Princess
Crimson King
The Eura Chronicles:
Rise of the Flame
Night of the Storm
Dawn of the Forgotten (Coming Soon)
Prophecy of the Seer (Coming Soon)
THE FALLEN GODS TRILOGY:
Goddess of War
Goddess of Ruin (Coming Soon)
Queen of Chaos (Coming Soon)
About Nicole Zoltack
Nicole Zoltack is a USA Today bestselling author who loves to write romances. Of course. She did marry her first kiss, after all!
When she’s not writing about knights, superheroes, or witches, she enjoys spending time with her loving husband, three energetic young boys, and precious baby girl. She enjoys riding horses (pretending they’re unicorns, of course!) and going to the PA Renaissance Faire dressed in garb. She’ll also read anything she can get her hands on. Her current favorite TV shows are The Walking Dead and Stranger Things.
Everyone who signs up for her newsletter receives a free book, so sign up now!
For more information
www.NicoleZoltack.com
[email protected]
K.N. Lee, Touched by Magic: An Epic Fantasy Adventure (Magic Truth Book 1)
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