The Crown of Gilded Bones (Blood and..

organized and well planned regardless. Someone had set a
fire to draw many of the Rise Guards away—something
Jansen could’ve ensured happened.
I clenched my jaw as I stared at the hunk of cheese and
the lump of bread wrapped in a loose cloth next to a glass of
water. When Casteel learned that not only had Alastir
betrayed him but that Jansen had, as well, his rage would be
unyielding.
And his pain?
It would be just as ruthless.
But what I felt when I thought about Alastir’s
involvement the night my parents died? The rage scorched
my skin. He’d been there. He’d come to help my family and
had betrayed them instead. And what he’d said about my
parents knowing the truth about the Ascended? Obviously,
they had learned the truth and escaped. That didn’t mean
they knew for years as they stood by and did nothing.
And my mother? A Handmaiden? If that was true, why
didn’t she fight back that night?
Or had I just not remembered that she had?
There was so much I couldn’t remember about that
night, things I couldn’t decipher as real or only nightmares. I
couldn’t believe I’d forgotten them. Had I blocked them out
because I was scared of them? What else had I forgotten?
Regardless, I had no idea if the Queen’s Handmaidens
were guards or not. And I didn’t believe that any darkness—
besides Alastir—was involved with that night. His twisted
sense of honor and righteousness prevented him from
owning up to what he’d done. Somehow, he’d led those
Craven to us and then left everyone in that inn to die. All
because I carried the blood of the gods within me.
All because I was King Malec’s descendant.
A part of me still couldn’t believe any of it—the old part
of me that hadn’t been able to understand what about me,
beyond a gift I hadn’t been allowed to use or being born in a
caul, had made me special enough to be the Chosen.