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Crown's Shield: The Aermian Feuds: Book Two




  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  By Frost Kay

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Copyright

  Crown’s Shield

  Copyright © 2017 by Frost Kay.

  First Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced. Stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any for or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, with written permission of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  For information on reproducing sections of this book or sales of this book go to www.frostkay.net

  Cover by Amy Queau

  Formatting by Jaye Cox

  Editing by Ashley Carvalho

  Proofreading by Madeline Dyer

  Dedication

  To my sissy: thanks for kicking me in the butt when I needed it, being one of my biggest supporters, and demanding chapters when I was scared to hand them over. Love you<3

  The Kingdoms

  Prologue

  Life was cruel.

  Men were evil.

  And hope was lost.

  But sometimes, just sometimes, there was a glimmer of something good. Something so sweet that it made all the wrongs, the hurts, the pains, and the nightmares fade just a little.

  Sometimes they come in unexpected ways from unexpected people.

  Sage’s came from a source she’d have never guessed.

  Her enemies.

  Chapter One

  Sage

  Sage squeezed her eyes shut and reopened them, though it did nothing to change the scene before her. Her mind was reeling, this couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t be seeing who she thought she was… She blinked a couple more times.

  Swamp apples. Still there.

  Two royal figures stood before her, blue eyes staring, one in anger, and one in calculation. Her fingers went numb, and a high-pitched ringing filled her ears.

  They were here.

  The princes of Aermia were actually here. In her family’s forge.

  Sweat dripped down her spine.

  How did they find her? No one had followed Rafe and herself as they made their way home from the festival last night, she had been sure of it. So how had they done it then?

  She jumped as she felt a touch on her arm. Anxious, her eyes jumped to the one touching her but she relaxed as she met the gaze of her father. It was only her papa.

  His eyes narrowed at her. “Sage? Are you all right?”

  She nodded slowly and gave him a weak smile, deliberately ignoring the two men boring holes into her head with their eyeballs. “What can I help you with, Papa?”

  Her papa grinned. “Actually, I have someone I want you to meet.” He wrapped an arm around her and looked toward Sam. “Sage, I would like to introduce you to Samuel.”

  For a beat, Sage simply stared at the spymaster before her father began again: “This is the Sam your brothers got into so much mischief with over the years.”

  She started at his words. Him? Stars above, it couldn’t be true. Life couldn’t be that cruel, could it? Apparently, it could.

  “It was he who commissioned the dragon sword.”

  Her gaze dropped to the sword in question. The great dragon broadsword she now held in her hands. Sage then glared at the sword, feeling oddly betrayed, as every foul word she’d ever learned ran through her mind. Of all the bad luck in the world, why did nothing ever go as it was supposed to?

  The spymaster cleared his throat, pulling her from her thoughts. As she raised her eyes to his, he arched a brow. “I’m happy to meet you at last. Zeke and Seb have spoken of you so much that I almost feel like I know you.”

  Sage pulled in a breath and sent him a brittle smile. “I feel exactly the same way.”

  Sam leaned forward, not breaking her gaze. “The sword’s perfect. I’ve never seen its equal. It’s truly a stunning weapon. How long was your apprenticeship?”

  Sage hesitated. Sam knew her family, but she didn’t know what her brothers had divulged to the spymaster all these years, and she had no desire to give him any more information.

  Before she had a chance to reply, her father spoke up.

  “Actually, she never left my side, even as a little one.” Her papa squeezed her. “I used to call her ‘my little shadow’. Every time I stepped back, it was onto little toes. Her brothers had no interest in it, so, much to the chagrin of her mother, I trained her instead. Now, here she is: the most talented swordsmith in all of Aermia.” Her father’s face beamed with pride.

  “Indeed,” Sam remarked.

  “Indeed,” Sage mumbled. More like unfortunate.

  Sam smiled. “How fortuitous it is to meet you in person.” His smiled widened. “Beauty and talent. I believe Colm and your brothers have been hiding you from me?”

  “Damn straight,” her papa added.

  Her eyes flickered to the crown prince’s and she registered the barely-masked hostility there. It was time to go.

  “Well, it was lovely meeting you.” She smiled at Sam. “And thank you for your compliments. I hope the sword serves you well, however, the forge doesn’t run itself, so if you will excuse me.” As Sage turned away she tried to decide her next move. Should she run to the meadow? Or perhaps go and find Rafe?

  “I would like to commission a few pieces.”

  Sage spun around when the voice cracked through the air like a whip. “I’ll be honest, seeing my brother with such a beautiful blade has me a bit envious.”

  The dark tone sent a shiver down her spine.
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  Even though she’d warned the princes of the plot to kill the king, they were still her enemies. Their games weren’t over: it was just the beginning.

  Sage cringed and turned toward Sam, clenching her hands in her skirt to keep them from trembling. Looking at him again she realized that, unfortunately, he was still one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen. Wavy blue-black hair, sapphire eyes framed with long, dark lashes. The full mouth highlighted by strong cheekbones and a defined jaw. She couldn’t believe she had kissed that mouth just last night. She shivered. Though it hadn’t been the worst thing to ever happen to her, it wasn’t something she wanted to repeat any time soon. Sage blinked. Why was she even thinking about that? Stupid prince.

  He shifted and her gaze was drawn up from his lips to his eyes. His eyes held no warmth. Sam smirked while standing next to Tehl and her impassive mask began to crack. Her emotions were all over the place. She needed to rein herself in. But when her father clapped his hands together, she just about jumped out of her skin. She’d almost forgotten he was there.

  “Well, I still have a little work to do, so I will let you two work out the details. But it was great seeing you, Sam. Stay for dinner?”

  “I would love to, but I’m afraid I’ve got to get back to work.”

  “That’s too bad, son. Perhaps next time.”

  She caught her father’s sleeve as he turned and gave him a pleading look. “Papa, do you think it wise to leave me here unchaperoned?” She kept her voice low.

  He eyed her and then the two royals, patting her hand absently. “I will only be in the forge and can see you the whole time.” He turned his gaze toward her. “So have no fear, love.” He raised his voice so that Sam could hear him. “I have known Samuel for many years. He would never do anything improper in my forge or make my daughter uncomfortable.” The words were friendly but also held a clear warning.

  Sam dipped his head, smiling boyishly. “As you say, Master Blackwell. You know, I feel as though Sage is my sister already.”

  Her papa acknowledged Sam with a quirk of his lips before moving back to his workbench. Sage stared after him, feeling like she’d just been left to drown in a river. Her father simply smiled encouragingly before turning away, whistling a lilting tune as he departed.

  Sage swallowed hard, locking her knees to stop their shaking. She wouldn’t let them detect the fear in her, so she gathered her courage. Grabbing paper and quill, she placed them on the counter before the two princes. The salty smell of sweat caught her nose. Hers or theirs? She had no clue. Steeling herself she asked, “So what would you like?”

  Silence followed her question, yet she refused to look up at them. She waited them out a bit but still they said nothing.

  “My lords?” she prodded.

  When each remained silent she forced her eyes from her paper, eyebrows raised in a mute prompt. Sage found herself under intense scrutiny by both sets of calculating blue eyes. Her stomach clenched.

  Suddenly, Tehl smiled fiercely, teeth gleaming. “I think I would like something similar to my brother’s. The dragon seems lifelike, which I approve of, but I’d rather you leave off all those pearls and sapphires. Maybe substitute obsidian and black diamonds.”

  Of course, he wants a black sword, she thought, it’ll match his black heart.

  Sage mulled it over. It would be harder to get the obsidian and black diamonds but it was definitely possible. She grinned evilly as she thought of how much she could charge him. Her father may not have understood whom he’d been dealing with, but she most certainly did.

  “It will take time to track down the stones you desire, but we can do it. Of course, you will need to pay upfront; twelve gold marks.” Sage smirked when the crown prince’s eyes widened just a fraction.

  Sam spoke up first. “Come now. I only paid three for mine. His stones can’t be that costly.” Sam gave her a lazy smile as he tried to bargain. “Surely you can give us a deal, I mean we’re practically family.”

  “You are.” Sage pointed her pen at Sam before stabbing it toward his brother. “He’s not. That’s my price so take it or leave it.”

  Sam sniggered when the crown prince glowered at her before speaking. “I guess I’ll need to borrow some gold, brother.”

  Pulling a bag from his waist, Sam set the coins on the counter.

  Sage merely smiled, feigning innocence. “Is there anything else you need?” She kept her tone sweet even as she felt giddy inside. Were she to be locked up today, her family would still be taken care of for a long time.

  “As a matter of fact, there is.” Sam placed a dagger in front of her. “Something like this.”

  As she caught sight of it, the blood drained from her face. A rebel blade. More specifically her rebel blade. As her gaze snapped to Sam, she caught him taking in her reaction with interest.

  So then, what now? Would he punish her family? The spymaster seemed to know she had created the dagger and had no doubt seen others like it on the other rebels. He now had proof she wasn’t only a spy, but the rebellion’s weapon supplier to a point. She wouldn’t be going back to the dungeon, she would hang.

  Her eyes darted to her papa, whistling away and working, oblivious to the danger she’d put them in, before returning to the two royals.

  Carefully, she pushed the dagger back toward them. “I’m afraid that is an outdated design. Can I interest you in something else instead?”

  She hoped they understood the translation: she didn’t work for the rebellion anymore.

  Sam’s brow furrowed at her words before he cleared his expression. He plucked her dagger from the counter and slipped it back into the sheath at his waist. “Nope, I believe I have everything I need then. How about you, brother?”

  She couldn’t help darting a glance toward Tehl, but her breath stuttered to a halt when she met his angry eyes. He leaned closer, feigning interest in a dagger on display, but Sage held her ground, refusing to be intimidated. She froze, however, when she felt his breath caress her temple.

  “There is only one thing I require here and none of it was forged with metal. So far it has eluded me, but I believe very soon it will be within my grasp.” He paused before continuing, “There is nowhere to run, Sage.”

  Her eyes flew back to Tehl’s. Seeing the determination on his face she knew she needed to leave. Now. She had planned on never seeing Rafe again but at this point she had no choice. This wasn’t just about her own safety anymore.

  By then he’d withdrawn from her space, though he continued watching her intently. She smiled grimly and placed each hand on a displayed dagger.

  “Only over your dead body,” she hissed. He would never find her again and he would never hurt her family. Of that she would be certain.

  Both men tensed at her threat and her smile turned deadly. At least they understood that danger was imminent.

  “Papa,” she called, never taking her eyes from them. Sage heard him as he hoisted himself up to stroll over to her. When he reached her she continued, “I find myself quite fatigued.” She then handed him the sheaf of paper with the crown prince’s specifications. “Would you mind finishing up?” Sage broke the staring contest she’d been entertaining with the two men so she could meet her papa’s worried green eyes.

  “Oh, love, I’m sorry. Do you need anything?”

  A warm smile split her face as she felt the concern in her papa’s voice. “No, no. I’m sure it’s just too much dancing last night.” Kissing her papa’s whiskered cheek she spared the royals a last glance. “It was lovely meeting you, Sam.” She hoped to never see him again.

  Sam smiled like he knew exactly what she was thinking, which ratcheted her anxiety up a notch. “We’ll be seeing you soon then.”

  Sage turned and forced herself to keep a sedate pace as she departed, until she entered her home. Closing the kitchen door, she then picked up her skirts and ran, revealing the leather pants she always wore beneath them. She vaulted over the table bench and burst into the living ro
om, startling her mum.

  “My stars, Sage! You scared me half to death.” Her mum took in her facial expression and jumped to her feet. “What is it, love?”

  Sage opened her mouth and floundered. What could she say? That she had put them all in grave danger? That she would most likely be hung? That she had let them down? She waved her hands and bolted to her room with her mum on her heels. Sage rushed around the room, ripping her rucksack from a chest at the base of her bed.

  “Dear? You are scaring me. You need to calm down and talk to me.”

  Sage spun to face her mum. “They found me, Mum. I was so careful not to lead them to your door, to put any of you in danger. But of all the wretched luck in the world…” Sage sunk her fingers into her hair.

  Her mum pulled her hands away from her tangles and held them. “Take a breath, you need to calm down. I need to understand what is going on if I’m going to help you.”

  “I don’t have time,” Sage cried in dismay.

  “The quicker you talk, the faster I can help.”

  Her mum’s stern tone penetrated the sea of panic she was swimming in. Her vision blurred as she looked into mum’s face, her hazel eyes full of concern. She sat heavily on her bed, pulling her mum with her. “I only wanted to help our people, to make Aermia a better place. I was tired of all the sickness and poverty. Our people were crying out to the Crown but all they received was apathy… I mean, Aermian women on the border are being taken. By Scythia!”

  “What?” her mum gasped.

  “Mum, I was offered a way to help. A way to make Aermia better. I wanted to make it better.”

  “The rebellion.” It was a statement, not a question.

  She tipped her head back, gazing at the faded yellow stars painted on her ceiling. “Eventually I was caught. It was the Elite, more particularly it was the crown prince and the commander.”

  “They are the ones who marked you?” Her mum asked, her voice infused with both anger and sorrow.

  “Not by their hand. It happened in the dungeon by their men. When they found me I was on death’s door so they brought me to a skilled healer and had me looked after as I healed. I didn’t understand why they cared at the time. I figured it was because they wanted information. But I have since learned the man who did this wasn’t theirs. He was from the rebellion.” She barely choked out the last sentence.