One Dark Window (The Shepherd King, #1)

by Rachel Gillig

She didn’t pretend, Ione. She simply was.

What he wrote, what he did, was all done for naught. His Cards are but weapons, his kingdom now cruel. Shepherd of folly, King of the fools.

Says the girl who talks to the monster in her head. Not exactly Princess material, are we, my dear?

wondered the same thing. The Captain’s adamant refusal to court me—not even court me, pretend to court me—felt like a dozen wasp stings, leaving me wounded, hot with anger.

I may be a liar and a traitor,” he said, “but at least I can say there is nothing I would not do to save my brother.”

Weariness was king, and I his servant.

Which perhaps was why Ravyn Yew enraged me so deeply. It was easier to hate him for being secretive and dishonest than admitting I hated myself for the same reasons.

Be wary. Be clever. Be good.

“It’s just a flower. Flowers don’t play games.”

“We needn’t be afraid of a little salt in the air.”

There he was again, asking to touch me. I nodded, and when his hand traced up and down my rib cage, I almost forgot the pain, too worried he’d feel the rapid beat of my heart.

My aunt had told me once that my strange charcoal eyes were special, beautiful even—a dark window to the soul beneath.

“You’re smiling.” Elm looked over the table. “Does no one else find that incredibly unnerving?”