Book 2: The False King Falls

Rafe

I hurry down the halls as fast as I can, still needing to heal, past the bodies of servants and guards. I’m sorry they got caught in the crossfire. Sniffing the air, I try to pick through the different scents of blood and death until I find the smell of the living.

Ironically, the last of the battle is taking place in the throne room. Zeke and a group of more than thirty guards have cornered a contingent of twenty on Kris’s side, but they just don’t seem to want to back down, even given the overwhelming odds. I wonder what Kris said, what he promised, to inspire such loyalty.

“Peace!” I shout, stepping into the room, holding my hands up. “Peace. All those who stand down now, I will pardon. There is no need to die here today.”

“It’s the false king!” one of Kris’s followers yells to the rest.

I growl deep in my throat. “I am no false king. I was chosen by King Axel Brodcraz himself. Can Kris claim the same?”

Again, a shout goes