The Fire Prince (The Cursed Kingdoms Trilogy Book 2) by Emily Gee Read Free Book Online Page A

turned on his heel, the grin still on his face. “You’ll tell the boys? I have a lot to do.”
    “Of course.”
    Karel watched him leave. The prince wasn’t as massive with fat as King Esger, his bulk was more muscular. Prince Jaegar controlled his appetites and his emotions in a way his father had never managed.
    No, not Prince Jaegar. Heir-Ascendant Jaegar. Osgaard’s rule was passing to a new king. One crueler than Esger and far more dangerous.
    “Britta?” Yasma said, once the Heir-Ascendant was out of earshot. “Are you all right?”
    Princess Brigitta nodded. She looked slightly dazed. And worried. She’s wondering how life will change for us now .
    “I’m fine,” she said, and then more briskly, “We must hurry to the nursery. I must tell my brothers!”
     
     
    A T MIDNIGHT, K AREL went off duty, leaving the princess’s safety in her second armsman’s care. The palace was more alive than it usually was at this hour. Courtiers bustled and bondservants scurried. There was a frisson of nervous energy in the marble corridors. He tasted it on his tongue, slightly metallic, as if the air itself knew that the world was dangerously different.
    Karel joined the line of men queuing for food in the armsmen’s mess hall.
    He went over the afternoon as he waited. The cool late-autumn sunshine, the roses losing their petals, Prince Jaegar grinning. And then the nursery, smelling of cinnamon and hot milk, and the young princes bewildered by their half-sister’s news.
    Four-year-old Lukas had been inclined to tears. Not grief, but fear, if Karel read him aright. “You won’t leave us?” he’d asked Princess Brigitta, almost frantically. “Promise?”
    The boys were orphans now, and it wasn’t just mother and father they lacked, but Prince Harkeld too. Small wonder Lukas was terrified of losing his half-sister.
    “I promise,” the princess had said, hugging him.
    It had been a rash promise to make. Princess Brigitta was a pawn, with no more control over her future than Yasma had. And from the expression on her face, she had known it.
    Karel reached the front of the line. A bondservant piled mashed turnips on a plate, and thick blood sausages bursting from their skins. The man was from the Esfaban Islands, his hair as black as Karel’s, his skin as brown. There was a fresh bruise on his face, fresh welts on his arms; he’d taken a beating today. Their eyes met for a moment. Karel gave the man a brief nod, acknowledging the servitude he endured. If not for his own parents’ bondservice, he’d be wearing an iron armband, not the golden breastplate of an armsman.
    He took his plate and a tankard of ale to a table, picking one where men who guarded the king’s audience chamber sat. If there were rumors about King Esger’s death, he wanted to hear them.
    More men arrived; the seats filled up. Karel cut his food slowly, chewed slowly, listening to the conversations around him.
    “Shrieking one minute, then keeled over the next.”
    “His face was right awful to see.”
    “...dark purple. Like one of them plums.”
    “You reckon it was natural?” someone asked in a whisper.
    Karel didn’t raise his eyes from his plate.
    “I dunno,” someone else answered. “But did you see Jaegar’s face when it happened? He just about pissed himself, he was so happy.”
    “Pissed himself? He looked like he was having the best rut of his life. I’ll wager he was coming in his underbreeches.”
    An armsman gave a snort of laughter, choked on his food, and began to cough.
    “Bet he’s found himself a bondservant to tup tonight,” someone said.
    “More’n one, I’ll wager,” another armsman said. “He’ll be rutting all night.”
    “Island girls,” someone said slyly, to Karel’s right. “He likes how they squeal.”
    That comment was aimed at him. Karel ignored it, chewing stolidly, his eyes on his plate.
    “So do I,” the man opposite him said. “I had a good one last night. Looked like this whoreson