The King’s Man (The King’s Man #5) Read Online Anyta Sunday

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, M-M Romance, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: The King's Man Series by Anyta Sunday
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Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
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The king stares at his son. “The one you requested came. Now explain why you stopped this woman ringing the bell?”

He narrows his eyes on my aunt. “Any bell-ringer without a reasonable cause will be imprisoned for one hundred days.”

My aunt shifts and I can feel her about to speak—

“Forgive me,” I say dropping to my knees at the same time Prins Lief steps closer to my aunt and holds her sleeve tight. “I asked her to ring on my behalf.”

My aunt snaps her gaze my way, while the king pins his glare on me. “On your behalf?”

“Please do not misunderstand, I had more important things to do than wait for your arrival.”

Air whistles sharply as nearby guards suck in their breaths.

King Yngvarr speaks softly, but each word feels dangerous. “My presence is beckoned, yet not deemed a priority?”

I bow again. “I, Haldr, was instructed by the goddess to make healing my priority, always.”

I wait a tense moment while he digests this.

He laughs abruptly, and with great cheer tells me to get up. To his son, he beams. “I understand. You stopped her from ringing because there was no need to seek my audience. I have been awaiting this meeting.”

Prins Lief inclines his head. His knuckles on my aunt’s sleeve are white and strained.

King Yngvarr’s gaze on me is quiet, long, assessing. “You stopped the spread of poxies. You are deserving of reward. I’ll have statues built. You’ll live in fame and luxury.”

“I wish for neither.”

“Neither? You must want something. If not riches . . .”

“You see through me.” I bow again. “I do have one wish.”

“By all means; you’ve earned it.”

Prins Lief looks my way, face pinched in warning.

I feel his plea, but I’m desperate. “I wish to free a prisoner.”

Prins Lief slams his eyes shut, while the king leans back on his throne. “Saving someone? Nothing else?”

“I’d give up any reward for this.”

Curiosity has the king leaning forward again. “Name.”

“Constantinos Quintus Aetherion.”

The following silence is deathly, but I lift my head and meet the king’s rapidly darkening eyes. There’s a storm brewing in their depths and I brace for the first lash. I can feel Prins Lief’s gaze boring through me too, telling me I’m insane, why ever would I ask for this?

But I can’t miss a chance—any chance, no matter how slim—to free him.

“Who is he to you?” It falls like scentless poison.

“I’ve been in charge of healing him.”

“He was more important than ringing my bell personally?”

My aunt stiffens, and Prins Lief steps forward. “Father, he did so on my command—”

“Silence. I want to hear what Haldr has to say.”

“He is weak. He has no power, is hunted in his own land—”

“Sounds like he takes after his father. Manipulating others to do his will.”

“He’s truly pathetic. Releasing him wouldn’t harm your people—”

“I’d prefer the humiliation of his head paraded through the kingdom!”

I’m squeezing my cloak. “His throne has been usurped. Is that not embarrassing enough?”

“I want all of Lumin mortified!”

“I will provide a better way!” It’s an instinctive, volatile retort with no plan behind it except to promise something, anything.

It startles him, and he bangs a fist on his throne. “This is how you speak to a king?”

I’m still running on a temper, and fear. “I’m more scathing with him!”

He doesn’t expect this. He laughs, not sure if he’s offended or impressed.

“He’s stupid.” I pause. “Quite possibly the stupidest king to have lived.”

Booms of laughter echo around the hall and eternal flame torches flicker.

A ruckus at the door as the King’s attention turning sharply to it.

Two Skeldar soldiers make their presence known and come up the hall dragging a third person, dressed in serving robes. The soldiers deposit him on his knees. “Your majesty. A Lumin spy.”

The man spits on the ground and raises his head defiantly. “Took you six months,” he says on an obnoxious laugh.

King Yngvarr stiffens and stretches a hand towards Prins Lief, who steps forward and helps him rise. With a hardened face, the king strides with anger and purpose towards the spy.

“My regent learned enough!”

The king grabs the hilt at the hip of the nearest soldier, drags out the sword, and in one swing slices the spy’s throat.

My stomach feels like a boulder crashing to the floor and I barely hold myself from shaking.

King Yngvarr whirls towards us, blood dripping from the sword. “You,” he bellows to me, “you’ll return tomorrow morning. I haven’t finished with you yet.” He gestures for his soldiers to drag the body away. “I want to see his head on a pike!”

I keep up my frustrated pace until we reach the middle of the grand ice-and-stone bridge. My aunt is a few paces behind me, and her gaze is tight on my nape. A glittering frozen waterfall clings to the icy cliffs beside us. It feels like it could tumble down and crush us, but I wonder if there’d be anything but bones left to crush.



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