Jennifer-a-Nielsen
The Deceiver's Heart
 |
The Deceiver's Heart |
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This is part of the introduction to the book
Barely daring
to breathe, I crept forward, hoping Lord Endrick
wouldn’t be aware of my presence until I was
closer. He had
summoned me
here, so there was no chance of surprising him, but I
didn’t need him watching my every move as I
trekked across the great
hall toward
the Scarlet Throne.
The throne
itself was a grand display of rubies and garnets,
occupied for
the past thousand years by whichever Antoran family
was currently
in power. But never by an outsider. Never by anyone as
evil as Lord
Endrick.
Lord Endrick
was a head taller than the average Antoran and thick
in his build.
Today he wore the black uniform of Dominion officers,
highly
decorated with medals he had never earned, and with green
accents
signifying his rank as king, a position he had seized from the
Dallisor
family. In public, he wore a mask to disguise his true nature,
but he rarely
wore it in his palace. I hated having to look upon him.
Every murder
he had committed against his own people had grayed
his flesh and
deepened the lines of his skin until he now resembled a
monster more
than a person.
Such thoughts
made it easier to do what I had to do, but I
continued
walking forward. My heart ached just to think of what was
about to
happen.
Endrick sat in
close conference with Sir Henry, his chief enforcer,
confidant, and
the man who had pretended to be my father for all of
my sixteen
years. Even now, he didn’t
know that I knew the truth, nor
could I tell
him until this was over.
If I was
lucky, that would be within the next few minutes.
The Olden
Blade was in its usual spot, tucked in a garter around
my right thigh
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