Throne of Blood: Kingdoms of Alaria Book 1 Read online

  THRONE

  OF

  BLOOD

  HANNAH GRACE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2021 Hannah Grace

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form without permission from the author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. Please do not take part in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  Book design by Hannah Grace

  Registration: TX 9-033-807

  Dedicated to:

  Amanda and Tyler Chandler.

  Thank you for being there in the beginning.

  Thank you for staying until the end

  THRONE

  OF

  BLOOD

  1

  Wine, the gods’ gift to this world, and Emery Talis showed her gratitude by drinking as much as she could as often as she could.

  She folded one leg over the other, her black dress falling away from her thighs, the white corset digging into her hips.

  Her chin was lifted, but her gaze was transfixed on the red wine in front of her. Her third since the beginning of this meeting. Being the Emperor’s daughter, she should have had access to oceans of wine, but there were eyes everywhere.

  Their judgment was fine, however, because it kept her from drinking so much she stopped retaining information, but even so, sometimes it would be nice to not remember anything.

  The chandelier high above her shown in crystal fractals, the only beautiful thing in this room of stone covered in red carpets and red tapestries. Her father spent an outrageous amount of gold on things as simple as blankets, yet the chairs were less than comfortable. Her ass was already numb, and the meeting had only been going on for…well, she hadn’t been listening, so she wasn’t quite sure how long she had been there.

  She had never liked meetings. At least she never liked her father’s meetings. She understood the importance of them, but gods, they were insufferable. All he did was drone on and on and on about—

  “Em,” Cas whispered, leaning over, “have you been paying attention?”

  Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she fought against the eyeroll. “No,” she told her Spymaster flatly. She inhaled the light berry scent of her drink before taking another sip. Wine should be put in the same category as meat and water. It was just as important, after all.

  “That’s not the right answer.”

  She rolled her eyes and looked over, meeting his bright hazel gaze, more brown than green today. It must have been cloudy out. “And?”

  Casius Dalorian was a beautiful man. Coming from the Mountains of Saiph, found in Eternal Winter where the Assassin’s Ordinance was held, he was the most skilled fighter in the world. Graduating top of his class, the best in decades, and he found his way here. Beautiful dark brown hair, beautiful sun-kissed skin, beautiful muscles, a jawline for days, and that Assassin sanctioned armor hugged his gods-blessed body as if trying to make all the males and females in the world orgasm all at once.

  She appreciated his beauty in several different ways on several different occasions, but nothing more than her imagination transgressed between them. Not that she hadn’t been curious, because she had, her thoughts were incredibly dirty, but it just never seemed like the right time.

  Maybe it never would be.

  Days before her death, Emery’s mother had Casius swear an oath that he would protect her until his last breath. It was just his word, but in this world, a man’s word was everything.

  A flicker of a smile. “This is important, little bird.”

  She glanced to his lips and back, unable to ignore the smile that threatened her own lips. “It’s always important.” She took a long drink from her crystal glass. Her father didn’t even want her here, but she was his only heir, so there was little choice for either of them.

  His pinky slid into view, below the table so no one would see.

  She eyed it quizzically.

  Cas’s look became playful, boyish.

  With wariness in her veins, she lifted her chin, setting her glass on the table, and folded her hands over her lap. “What’s the deal?”

  “A horse ride, unaccompanied, just the three of us.”

  Emery narrowed her eyes. It was forbidden for her. As heir to her father’s blood throne, she was a target of hatred from the people her father had hurt in some form or another. Going out was a rare occasion and even if she was permitted to go out, it was always with an entourage of twenty or more royal guards and sentries. “All three of us?” she repeated under her breath.

  He nodded, flexing his pinky, light dancing in his eyes.

  A bribe to be the proper princess she needed to be.

  With a silent breath, Emery slid her own around his, locking the deal in. “Fine, but you know the consequences. Dagger through the shoulder.” He still had a scar from when she was nine. The first deal they had ever made, and he had broken it. At that point, he had to help her get the dagger all the way through, but he had taken it with hardly a flinch. He hadn’t aged at all in as long as she could remember.

  He had explained to her that the Assassins were all given a special elixir to keep them young and flexible for as long as they wanted to be Assassins.

  She had made him promise to get her that elixir. She would be the most breathtaking 80-year-old anyone had ever seen.

  Emery leaned back in her chair, flinching as the splinters poked into her exposed shoulders. Maybe she would put in her own request to get the chairs fixed. After all, the Empire had a reputation to uphold.

  She took another long drink before finally tuning into her father’s meeting.

  “…sentries,” Cedric was saying. He stood only a rank below Cas in status, but, if Emery had to compare, he was far below Cas in looks.

  Cedric was a good man, a good General, but he was in love with Abigail, Emery’s little sister. No one was good enough for her, not even Cedric, but oh, how they admired each other. Emery had to admit, it was getting more difficult as the days went on to find any faults in the man who loved her sister.

  Even so, no one could be too careful.

  “Those deaths are on your head, Cedric,” her father huffed, sitting at the head of the table. Beady blue eyes, square face, gray hair, and the cruelest, coldest heart in all of Alaria. When he died, all of Alaria would celebrate. “Why didn’t you send the royal guards? Why send untrained sentries?”

  “I sent who we could afford to send. Casius is still training most of them—”

  “And he hasn’t trained the sentries at all,” the Emperor interjected. “It seems the outcome is clear.”

  Emery could see the anger carefully concealed in Cedric’s ocean-blue eyes. Even one word with a hitched tone, her father would have him whipped.

  But there was a reason they hadn’t trained the sentries, and if the outcome was so clear, why send them at all?

  “There were only enough here to guard the castle, your highness,” Cedric said tightly, hand clenched over the table. “You sent the rest of them to the Iron Kingdom.”

  Which was a waste of time, everyone knew that. The Iron Kingdom had been sealed off behind walls of steel and magic since the War of the Magisters 234 years ago. Her father had been trying to conquer them for years, only to pile up body after body after body. It was pointless.

  He didn’t reply.

  Emery held in her irritation. He would never reply to something like that bec
ause replying meant admitting he made a mistake.

  Bart Talis never made mistakes.

  “In my opinion,” Cas began, twisting his glass around as relaxed as he could be, “we should pull the royal guards back and focus on the more important things.”

  Her father smiled and waved him on as if excited for the opportunity to make a fool out of him. “And please, Spymaster, what is more important than building this Empire?”

  Emery was sure he hated Cas almost as much as he hated her. He would never get rid of Cas though because Cas was the only reason Bart’s armies were as amazing as they were. Without Cas, Bart was nothing.

  “Keeping our people safe,” he offered. “Not sending the only men I’ve managed to train out on pointless missions.”

  “Pointless?” her father boomed, face turning red. “The Iron Kingdom and the Kingdom of Elri are the only two Kingdoms standing between me and full reign. If you believe that is pointless, maybe you’re your mind is finally losing its grip.”

  She could physically feel Cas holding back his laughter.

  Emery glanced over to Cedric as she lifted her glass to her lips again. He kept his temper with such ease. She wondered how he did it. Were there fallen trees off in the far distance with thousands of blade marks in them or was there a secret basement somewhere he used to scream?

  Surely he couldn’t just be holding it all in. That could cause even the most respected of people to drink.

  Cedric looked over, feeling her eyes on him, and rose a perfect brown brow. Pointless, the gesture seemed to say.

  She returned a bare smile. He was kind.

  But Emery had been known for her taste in toxic men, so Cedric was going to have to keep proving himself to her for as long as she needed. It would be too big of a risk otherwise.

  “You’ve eradicated the land of all magic and now you expect to get past her walls without it? To get past the Blackwoods?”

  That’s what Emery had been thinking about for the last ten years. Sure, the humans were easy to conquer, some of the lesser magic-folk too, but the Iron Queen? Kai Blackwood? He didn’t stand a chance and he was delusional if he thought he did.

  “That’s why I need you to get to training more of my men,” he growled as one of the servants refilled his goblet. “I need more men.”

  “Numbers mean nothing when powerful magic is our opposition,” Cas countered, earning a warning glare from Cedric.

  Talking about magic was like pouring acid into a wound. Emery’s father had spent years trying to completely eradicate it from Alaria, but there was no getting rid of all of it with those two Kingdoms still standing.

  Cas turned back to Bart, collecting himself. He was calm until he couldn’t be. It wasn’t that he had a short temper, spending years with her father had just turned him into a bitter person. “The Talis ruling will not last if you don’t act smart. You need to pull your forces and think in a different direction.”

  Like helping people rather than killing them. Emery took another long drink and poured herself a fourth glass. She could name off entire streets in Feros alone that were filled with people who needed help, yet her father was so obsessed with magic, he couldn’t even acknowledge that his own city was falling into ruin due to the neglect.

  “A direction of magic?” he spat, face beat red, nose crinkled in disgust. “Magic is what caused the War of Magisters. It’s what caused every battle waged, every death, every broken society since the beginning of time. What I am doing is what is right for the world, and once those across the seas understand that they too will eradicate the magic in their lands. This world will be safe for the first time in our history. If you can’t understand that, then you should leave.”

  Emery lifted her glass in a sarcastic cheer. “He can’t,” she replied in boredom. She wondered what Abigail was doing. Perhaps practicing her violin. She was getting rather good these days.

  Her father’s eyes finally shifted to her, and that disgust turned into outright hatred. “You know nothing, girl,” he hissed. “War and bloodshed are far too much for your woman brain to handle.”

  She laughed, unable to hold in the shock she felt at his comment. “Holy shit.” She sat up and drank the rest of her glass before swiping the bottle off the table and standing. “Cas is right. You are nothing against the Iron Queen or the Blackwoods. Keep sending the royal guards and eventually, she’ll just kill them, if only to get some peace and quiet. Gods know you’ve pushed her to the edge of war with your incessant knocking.”

  “My own daughter, rooting for magic,” he scoffed, complete shame pulling him back in his chair.

  “Nope, that’s actually the one thing I learned from you, dad, hatred. I’ve got that down pat.” She turned and headed for the doors, grip tightening around the neck of the bottle, the other hand clenching the stem of her glass. She didn’t just hate magic, she loathed it. Even thinking about it made her stomach twist in an incredibly painful way.

  “I should’ve had a son,” he muttered as the door fell shut behind her.

  She finished a fifth glass and poured her sixth as she headed down the halls of the castle, a tingling warm feeling spreading throughout her body. Red wine was her favorite, but every once in a while, she would get a taste for white. Usually, that came about when she and Abigail were having a nice night in, reading and pampering.

  After the war, Alaria suffered greatly. Famine and poverty washed over the lands. Emery’s family had asked the Iron Queen for help because, at the time, she was the strongest Kingdom remaining, but she had locked herself away.

  During the war, she had used a powerful weapon to destroy Heli, the leader of the Dark Magisters. That weapon shattered into three pieces, and it was said that she got scared. Without that weapon, she couldn’t defend her people. So, despite winning the war, she put up walls around her Kingdom, locking everyone out.

  Gideon Talis, Emery’s great-grandfather, fought and clawed to get Alaria back to good health, rebuilding it from the ashes. He had been a good King, but when her father took over 35 years ago, he decided that instead of a land filled with Kingdoms, thriving on choice, he would make his own Empire, and rule over the lands himself. A King above all kings. Bart Talis began hunting down rulers that opposed him, killing them, establishing his dominance, colonizing. Eventually, it was just he, the Blackwoods, and the Iron Queen that remained in Alaria.

  22 years ago, he had officially declared himself Emperor.

  Nearly eleven years ago, he decided to eradicate all magic to protect his lands from another war, or so he claimed. He sent out people to hunt down and kill all the magical creatures and anyone who continued to practice.

  “The meeting wasn’t over, Em,” Cas said from behind her.

  Sometimes, she truly hated how silent he was. “Strange.” She took a long drink. “Could have sworn me leaving was a sign of the meeting ending.” Emery wasn’t that callous, she knew the meeting would go on for a while, but it was over for her.

  “You know that’s not out it works.” Cas grabbed the bottle out of her hand earning him a scowl. “That’s enough wine for today, it’s not even dinner.”

  Emery turned on him, reaching for it angrily. “Give that back.” None of them understood, it was the only way to survive this place. Once she got out, she’d quit. Once she got far away from here with Abigail and Cas, it would be over, but for now, she needed this. She needed to feel nothing.

  “No,” he replied, holding it high in the air. “Did you learn anything in that meeting?”

  She glared up at the bottle, watching the dark liquid slosh within the dark green bottle. “I learned that my father is still an idiot. Cedric is teetering on the edge of approval, and I miss Abigail.”

  “Abigail is in her room,” Cas explained, handing the bottle off to a passing servant. “I’m serious. You’re nearly 21, you need to be paying more attention or you’ll get to the throne and know nothing of how to handle business properly.”

  Emery watched after the ser
vant, frown deepening. Since when did they not see her? “I’m not taking the throne, Cas, you know that. Once Abigail gets better, we’re gone.” She continued down the hall, wondering how many bottles she had in her room and whether she would have to call someone to restock.

  She already had a plan. Which ship they would board, where they would go, their names, professions, everything. Once her sister was cured, they would leave.

  Cas released a breath. “That’s not a choice you have, little bird.”

  They slipped into tense silence as they walked through the castle, only for it to be broken by his attempt at reconciliation. “Do you at least want to hear what I found today?”

  “I swear to the gods if the answer is ‘love’ I’ll run my favorite ruby-encrusted dagger straight through that thing dangling between your legs.”

  He laughed, bumping her shoulder, causing her to wince. “Graphic. No, a story and evidence to back up the story. There’s been a creature leaving a trail of bloodless bodies up above the Grasslands. Not many, but enough for some of the other Assassins to take notice.”

  Interest filled her, her head lifting. He always knew exactly how to get her attention. “A creature?” There were far too many magical creatures in this world to name them all or to even bother remembering the ones already given, so it didn’t surprise her in the slightest that Cas didn’t have a name for it.

  He nodded. “Some washed up on the shores of Vawriot, others were found at the edges of Rictor’s Pass.”

  Rictor’s Pass. It used to be filled with rock trolls and nymphs. Cruel creatures who constantly wanted treasures if people wanted to get across. They were some of the last creatures to be targeted by the sentries, all dead now. “Have you told my father?”

  He shook his head. “No. He’s spreading everyone thin as it is. I’ve sent out two of my men to search the area. If I don’t hear back from them in a month, then I will tell Bart.”