Two Twisted Crowns (The Shepherd King, #2)

by Rachel Gillig

“High Prince Hauth.” Dread. There was so much dread in the Physician’s eyes. “He’s awake.”

Is it bad I'm upset about this?

“I’ll wait in the meadow. In case you change your mind.”

And then she'll wait dead for 500 years

And I could not use a single one.

Sortof like Ravyn

“I care not that you are my sister’s husband. Kill another soul with my Scythe, and I will not merely take it back. I will pry it from your lifeless hands. Now get out.”

Thank you! Gosh, that's sick.

Ayris and I stepped into the alderwood, and the mist homed in on my sister. It shot into her nose, her mouth. She gasped—breathed it in— And the warmth of the sun snuffed out.

Oh my gosh. What? No! Please tell me this doesn't happen to Jesper!

“My son.” The King’s green, bleary gaze found Elm’s face. “Even on his deathbed, you will not call him a brother?” “He never played the part well enough.”

Exactly. It's lime calling someone mother or father when they don't act like one.

Hauth scowled. “Not very pretty, is she?”

Oh my word. Like that's the only thing that matters. Pfffttt

“Please. I don’t feel like myself. I need the Maiden back.”

That's so sick to do that to someone. I couldn't imagine.

She stayed unmoving, unflinching. “Elspeth isn’t infected.”

She's got more nerves than her fatbher ever did.

Elm’s entire body seized, and he fell with Ione down Spindle House’s reaching tower. He heard the sickly crunch of her skull, cracking against brick. When Ione peered down at her body, jagged, red-tipped bones had torn through her clothes.

Oh my word! I swear if that man ever wakes up! What an idiot!

“Sometimes,” she muttered, wiping his blood on her skirt, “I think things would be infinitely better if there were simply no Providence Cards at all.”

They most definitely would.

“To Hauth. A contract that bound me to Hauth.” Elm smiled. “To the heir.”

Ohhhhhhh. A loophole! Yes!

Tightness fisted Elm’s chest. “I’d be your King, but always your servant. Never your keeper.”

As it should be.

Yews do not break, came the Nightmare’s menacing rebuttal. They bend.

True true

It is where the Spirit of the Wood will speak to you.

But why does it have to be him?

Ravyn’s voice was taut. “Please. I will speak to the Spirit, meet any price.” He grasped Jespyr’s arm, trying to pry her from her cage of roots. “But not my sister.”

That's so freaking sweet

You are the Shepherd King—the author of everything I have ever known. You wrote Blunder’s history, Aemmory Percyval Taxus. Now rewrite it.

“But not this. You will not make a monster out of him as you did me, forcing him to give up a sister. Let go of Jespyr Yew. Or I will cleave your roots from this earth.”

Dang, dude! Finally!

He always felt washed clean, riding away from Stone.

Me too, man...

I’d rather Stone burned before I saw a woman and her children killed for hiding an infected niece.”

A shadow rose in the corner of the room. It wasn’t Ravyn waiting for him. It was Hauth.

Dang it! Why?

You’ll return with the Twin Alders… But you’ll never leave that place.

Oh, please no. I can't take anymore!

“You must know,” he said, “that I was never going to allow the King to spill her blood to unite the Deck.”

I had a feeling...

The Shepherd King had described the Spirit of the Wood in The Old Book of Alders as neither kin, foe, nor friend. He might have saved ink and called her what she truly was. A proper asshole.

Yup. Powerhungry. Better than thou

“Taxus. My name is Taxus.”

Uhhhhhh. What? I'm confused. What did I just read?

No one moved to help him. Not his servants or Destriers—not Baldwyn or the lords and ladies of Blunder who’d hurried to Stone to partake in his feasts. Their opinion of him, of his Rowan legacy, had made him into the King that he was. And now that he was choking, dying before them— They would not even look at him.

That's so sad! Oh my gosh!

“It was not I,” Hauth said, nodding at the flagon in Elm’s hand, “who poisoned the King.”

Yes, it was you freaking bastard!

Your cousin Elm has done more than Brutus Rowan or I ever could. He has looked pain in the eye—and refused to let it make a monster of him.”

She stirred in his arms. Grimaced. Her brown eyes opened a sliver. “You smell worse than he did.”

Ha ha. I love her temperment and sarcasm!

A smile haunted the Nightmare’s silken timbre. “How poetic. I couldn’t have asked for a better Solstice.” He put his mouth to Ravyn’s ear. “Now, stupid bird, will you listen to my plan?”

The irony XD

At their lead, tall and broad and beautiful, Hauth wore their father’s crown and a deep blue doublet with a gold rowan tree embroidered across its chest.

Which he did not earn

He raised a finger over his Scythe. “It’d be the only enjoyment you could offer me.”

Enjoyment? Are you serious?

Ione balked, and I swatted at darkness. Would it kill you to be civil? I’m already dead. But yes. Decidedly.

Noted.

healed until he was without blemish.

Good. Now take it to freaki g Ravyn!

“I wanted a better Blunder for her. If you perish, that Blunder will never exist.”

So he does think of her like a daughter then...

He picked it up and placed it back on his head,

Really, dude? Now?

“I’ve got to get back.” He glanced one last time at the glowing lights of the Providence Cards he had lived—bled—died for. “They’re waiting for me.”

His children! Aaaggghhh!

He fell over himself, hunching upon the stone in the heart of the chamber, twisting and wailing and pinning his ears with his hands, as if he didn’t wish to listen to something wretched only he could hear.

He should've stayed dead

“I’m going to wrench the knife out of him. And you, Tilly—” The Nightmare bit the inside of his cheek. “Jespyr. Put your hands on his open wound.

Ohhhhh. He thinks she has the power to heal like Tilly!

thought I was the father she deserved. That I could carry her through this terrible, violent world.

See, I knew it!

I was more than the girl, the King, and the monster of Blunder’s dark, twisted tale. I was its author.