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Hidden In Shadow: Shadow Court Chronicles, Book 1 Excerpt
Her husband, in all of his arrogant and beautiful glory, was ignoring his new wife as if his life depended on it. The petty and vengeful side of her contemplated how he would look with short hair. It would be so easy to slide up behind him and take a dagger to his gorgeous hair. It would be such a shame to cut those free flowing strands of bright gold and deep red that fell well past his shoulders. His eyes, yet another gorgeous part of his body, complimented his hair with their fiery reds. The man was clothed in the bold colors of his house, the rich reds and golds of the Summer Court. The packaging did not distract from his natural coloring, but enhanced the elegant angles of his face. The man was beautiful, but he was a horrible assassin.
She knew that it was he that was trying to kill her and not some other foolish sap. He had brought the goblet to her in twitching hands, an averted gaze, and an overly sweet voice. He was now avoiding her like the plague, trying in vain to have an alibi for when she dropped dead.
She wasn’t heartbroken at the very poorly executed attempt on her life. She felt no love for the man, and she was positive, if the poison were any clue, that he had no love for her. Their marriage had not been a choice but an arrangement in an attempt to heal the rift between the two courts. She didn’t see that rift being healed any time soon if the poison was to be taken as a hint.
More than anything, she felt insulted by the poorly executed assassination attempt. The smell of Monk’s Bane had assaulted her nose as soon as the goblet had reached her lips. She had been so shocked, she had stopped before the liquid had ever had a chance to slip forward in her tilted cup. The job had been incredibly poorly done and was an insult to her skills.
She didn’t think that the Seelie Court was ignorant about her skills, or of those in her court, but the poison was showing her that they clearly were. She had learned poisons, proper ways to torture, and how to fight before she had even learned how to write her name. As fourth in line for succession and it was expected that she know, even if there was little hope of her touching the throne, how to rule properly. Even her little brother, at 5 years old, could have done a better job trying to kill her.
She contemplated her options as she swirled the goblet around in front of her. To drink or not drink was the real question. Drinking the laced wine wouldn’t hurt her in any way. She had a natural immunity to poisons, and the look on her husband’s face might prove amusing. On the other hand, not drinking from the goblet may annoy him. Another plus in her books, but it could also show fear. She waited until he looked back to check on her to make her move. She toasted him with the goblet and knocked back the liquid with ease.
Monk’s Bane was notoriously fast acting, especially with the quantity that had been used. She could feel her body begin to process and break down the poison until it was nothing but a harmless liquid floating in her stomach. If she had been normal, she would have collapsed by now. Instead, she decided that the farce had gone on long enough.
The ruse of being happy about her circumstances was getting old, and she was getting tired. She pushed her chair back and maneuvered her way off of the dais carefully. If she had been in her normal attire of leather and more leather, it wouldn’t have been a problem but the gown she was in did not allow for easy movement.
Kieran, her Redcap bodyguard and constant companion, became her instant shadow the moment she moved. He was a huge monster that everyone moved out of the way for. Not that she could blame them. The man’s jaw did unhinge so he could eat the things that truly annoyed him, and as he was six-foot-five and built like a tank, he tended to eat—a lot.
He had been with her since childhood and even as a child, she had loved the huge man with his ever-changing blood red eyes and his bleeding cap that he kept over his spiked black hair, dyed red with the blood of his first kill, and refreshed after every battle. His immense size and being a killer of men had frightened everyone but her. She had seen the kindness in him when no one else could have. She knew the truth but kept it from everyone. Their fear of him meant that she continued to be safe from them.
“Growing tired, Lyss?” his voice rumbled behind her.
“I refuse to continue to play the happy wife after the bastard just tried to poison me in the weakest assassination attempt I have ever seen. It’s insulting.”
She nodded and smiled to the drunken dancing Fae as she passed them. She wished that she could have joined them, but her temper was wearing thin. She was not suitable company for those who were already so far gone with magic and alcohol. She would be lucky if she could make it up to her room without having Kieran kill someone or taking the pleasure in doing it herself.
She was forced to tap her husband several times on the shoulder before he even bothered to turn around. The fear she saw in his eyes mollified her anger slightly. If she had not seen it, she would have had Kieran stab him out of spite. She had a strict policy of never getting her hands dirty unless she truly needed to, and Kieran seemed to enjoy taking care of her light work for her.
“I’m going to bed now, my dearest husband.” Her voice was overly sweet as she spoke to him. Any casual listener would know by her tone that she was far from pleased with the evening “Please stay down here and enjoy the festivities and,” She leaned close to his ear and her voice turned hard as steel. “Don’t even think about joining my bed tonight unless you plan to have a knife run through your coward gullet.”
He coughed nervously. “Um, yes. I will see you later then, my love.”
She smiled serenely at him, but it did not reach her violet eyes. “Let’s make that as late as possible. Sometime tomorrow evening would be what I prefer.” She gave him a pat on his shoulder with a hard warning squeeze before she sauntered away from him.
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