Kings Rising (Captive Prince, #3) by C.S. Pacat EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author Name: C.S. Pacat
- Book Genre: Fantasy, LGBT, Romance
- ISBN # 9781743484951
- Edition Language: English
- Date of Publication: 2016-2-2
- PDF File Size: 916 KB
- EPUB File Size: 744 KB
‘DAMIANOS.’
Damen stood at the base of the dais steps as his name spread in tones of
shock and disbelief over the courtyard. Nikandros knelt before him, his
army knelt before him. It was like coming home, until his name, rippling
outwards over the ranks of the gathered Akielon soldiers, hit the Veretian
commoners thronging the edges of the space, where it changed.
The shock was different, a doubled shock, a rippling impact now, of
anger, of alarm. Damen heard the first voice in outcry, a swell of violence, a
new word now in the mouths of the crowd.
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‘Prince-killer.’
A hiss of a rock, thrown. Nikandros came up off his knees, drawing his
sword. Damen flung out a hand in a motion for halt, stopping Nikandros
instantly, his sword showing a half-foot of Akielon steel.
He could see the confusion on Nikandros’s face, as the courtyard around
them began to disintegrate. ‘Damianos?’
‘Order your men to hold,’ said Damen, even as the sharp sound of steel
closer by had him turning fast.
A Veretian soldier in a grey helmet had drawn his sword, and was
staring at Damen as though he faced his worst nightmare. It was Huet;
Damen recognised the white face under the helmet. Huet was holding his
sword out before him the way Jord had held the knife: between two shaking
hands.
‘Damianos?’ said Huet.
‘Hold!’ Damen ordered again, shouting to be heard over the crowd, over
the new, hoarse cry in Akielon, ‘Treason!’ It was death to draw a blade on a
member of the Akielon royal family.
He was still keeping Nikandros back with the gesture of his outflung
hand, but he could feel every sinew in Nikandros strain in the effort to hold
himself in place.
There were wild shouts now, the thin perimeter breaking down as the
crowd swelled with the panicked urge to run. To stampede and get out of
the way of the Akielon army. Or to swarm over it. He saw Guymar scan the
courtyard, the tense fear in his eyes clear. Soldiers could see what a peasant
mob could not: that the Akielon force inside the walls—inside the walls—
outnumbered the skeletal Veretian garrison fifteen to one.
Another sword was drawn alongside Huet’s, a horrified Veretian soldier.
Anger and disbelief showed in the faces of some of the Veretian guard; in
others there was fear, looking to one another desperately for guidance.
And in the first spilling breach in the perimeter, the spiralling frenzy of
the crowd, the Veretian guards no longer fully under his control—Damen
saw how completely he had underestimated the effect of his identity on the
men and women of this fort.
Damianos, prince-killer.
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