The Kingdom's Crown (Inheritance of Hunger #3) - Kathryn Moon Page 0,87

agree."

I nodded, more to convince myself that I was prepared for the conversation ahead than anything else, and then turned to Amos.

"All right, yes, I'm ready."

In truth, I'd been at the ball late into the night, and then up for the remainder of it trying to think over what I might say to Prince Holden to convince him to join my cause when all he wanted was a thorough revenge. My head started to spin again as Amos opened the doors, and Aric interrupted my thoughts with a nudge against my back.

Prince Holden was pacing the small sitting room of the suite, still wearing his white dress shirt from the ball, now undone at the collar to reveal the gruesome bruises around his throat. He stopped short at our arrival, and there was a flicker of panic in his wide eyes as he glanced at me. I didn't know if he saw something of Camellia in me, or if he only thought I was here to announce that we'd be sweeping him under the rug to hide my sister's crimes, but it left me strangely relieved. Aric was correct. Right now, Prince Holden had more cause to fear us than threaten us, and I only needed to convince him that we would make suitable allies.

"Your Highness, how are you feeling?" I asked, making a polite, albeit unnecessary, curtsey for his benefit.

"Wretched," Holden croaked, glaring at me and standing in front of the window. There were guards in the room with us, familiar ones I knew Cress and Amos both trusted, and their eyes remained watchful on the prince.

"Any apology I might offer you for my sister's behavior is surely useless," I said. "I am not her, and Camellia is not of a nature to offer an apology."

Holden squeaked as he scoffed, turning away from me briefly before spinning nervously back again as if he were afraid to offer us his back.

"May I sit?" I asked, gesturing to the settee.

"If you must."

For a man who had cause to worry over his fate, Holden really was an ass.

I helped myself to the seat, Aric and Wendell joining me, and then noticed the untouched tea tray waiting on a low table and the now cold breakfast at its side. Holden thought we would poison him.

I poured myself a cup, aware of the ice blue eyes watching me, and drank before looking up again.

"What do you want?" Holden asked, confusion and anger marring his handsome face.

"I want to ensure that Camellia never wears the Kimmerian crown, that she has no access to men whom she might harm, and that she is punished for her crimes."

Holden's folded arms dropped lamely to his side, surprise wiping his face clean, a soft squawk escaping his open mouth. I set my teacup down on the saucer and folded my hands in my lap, staring up at him, waiting.

"There is no law that prevents a princess from making demands of her Chosen. She is…quick to remind men of this," Holden said, voice slow, struggling and swallowing often, each time making a pained face.

"The tea will soothe your throat, Your Highness. I promise you, I have no intention of allowing you to die. You see, I know that there is nothing that prevents Camellia from abusing her Chosen. However, what she did last night was more than a demand. And you are more than a typical Chosen," I said, turning back to the tea set and preparing a second cup, setting it down on the other side of the table and waiting for Holden to relax and sit with us.

"It's cause for war," Holden said.

"It is. Although I wouldn't recommend you crusade for a war between Noren and Kimmery. To be frank, it wouldn't end well for your kingdom. We have a much stronger army."

Holden scowled and stormed to the seat, sitting down and leaning across the table to glare at me. "If you think I'm just going to return home with my tail between my legs—"

"You won't be returning home. Not yet, at least," I said, watching him pale and then waving my hand airily between us. "Please, don't misunderstand. Simply put, you are the best evidence we—I have against my sister. I don't need you to stay to keep her secret safe, I need you here to reveal the real danger of Camellia and her use of the Hunger."

"Evidence?" Holden rasped.

"Witness? Victim?"

"I am not—"

"We'll use a term that suits you," I said quickly, drinking from my cup and