Page 134 of The Fallen Fae King

I refuse to back down.

If I am about to be turned into one of his sick statues…like the gold statue of Hadrian…then I shall be one standing defiantly with my head held high.

With a growl of frustration, Maximinus finally drops his hand. “It will be good for the kingdoms to have an emperor crowned. I’m happy that finally you’re taking your responsibilities seriously and understanding the importance of your reputation and public perception.”

There is a trap hidden in the fucker’s words. I’m certain of it.

But where?

“Hurry up, Liviana, we wouldn’t be late if you hadn’t tried on three outfits, as if it matters what the King thinks about you in them,” a harsh, female voice calls behind me.

I turn around, cautious about having my uncle at my back, as a female Alpha strides into my office without knocking.

I narrow my eyes at the Head of the Council, Decima. She is a stern middle-aged Alpha in a silver robe with her blond hair in a tight bun.

My gaze drops to her silver signet ring, which marks her out as Head of the Council. She has clawed her way with plots and treason through the snake pit of this court to earn that fucking ring.

She owes it to my uncle’s corruption, and he owns her as much as he does Cato.

This is an ambush. They must know that Wraith is busy in the Guild of Assassins, while War and Lucius are at the barracks.

These three planned whatever this is together…these four.

My expression sours, as I watch Liviana stumble to keep up with her mother, catching her shoes on her long robe.

Liviana is shorter and thinner than her mother. Her hair is parted into six heavy braids, which are wrapped in glimmering silver wool.

She is dressed in a robe, which is silver threaded with dragons in flight. Yet she’s never ridden a dragon because she’s not a cadet. Instead, she is a pampered elite who would never last a day in the academy.

She looks close to tears simply at her mother’s scolding, despite being older than I am.

She is considered the prettiest female Omega in Bael. I had to watch my brother court her for months. But I never understood why so many Alphas wanted to bond her.

I catch Ignatius’ eye, and he nods his understanding.

My shoulders tense. “What are you doing here?”

“I am Head of the Council. Can’t I visit the King?” Decima stalks toward me.

“Not without an appointment.” Ignatius smoothly slips between the council member and me. I am impressed with how well he has taken to the role as my secretary. “Step outside, and I’ll arrange a time when he is free to see you…”

Decima punches Ignatius in the gut.

Ignatius lets out an oomph, dropping to his knees.

“Where did you learn that style of diplomacy? On the battlefields of the First Fae War?” I arch my brow. “Beating my staff, Decima, is a sure way to gain my attention, but not good attention. I didn’t realize that I would need to hang a sign that made it clear my staff were under my protection. It seems I should pass a law that anyone who touches my inner court will lose their fucking fingers.”

“Is that your style of diplomacy?” Decima replies. “Beating worked with your pets.”

My shadows wind out, darkening the study.

I remember the way that she struck Daire when he’d been chained to the pillar.

This bitch encouraged me to execute him and Freya.

My eyes swirl to molten gold. My hand twitches toward my dagger.

“Now, now.” Cato wags his finger at Decima like we’re simply a group of friends joking around, although he is sweating with nerves as my shadows darken the room to night. “Let’s not fight.”