Two Twisted Crowns (The Shepherd King, #2)

by Rachel Gillig

He finally looked back at Ione. “I aim to be better. If you are disappearing like Elspeth did—and have little choice in the matter—I would like to help you.” The lines and muscles of her face gave nothing away. But she startled Elm, raising herself to her toes to meet his eye. She hooked his chin with her thumb, and though Ione Hawthorn was so cold in all her expressions, her touch warmed him. “Why?” she asked. “Why do you aim to be better?” “Because I have to be,” Elm said in one breath. “I care not what they say about me at court, even if it is that I’m a rotten Prince and a piss-poor Destrier.” He leaned closer. “But I do want it said, loud enough so everyone hears, that I am nothing like Hauth.”

“Even so, be wary, Taxus. Be wary, clever, and good.” “So says a Rowan, who is none of the three.”

“How does it feel, knowing you will wear the crown?” “Like falling off a horse.”

“Just when I think you’re getting tolerable, you go and open your mouth.”

When Filick handed them their gold bands, Elm looked into Ione’s eyes. “A hundred years,” he said to her, as if she were the only one in the room. “I’ll love you for a hundred years—and an eternity after.”