Elma POV
"The King is awake," the servant had said, standing in my doorway with his head bowed.
My stomach did a violent, complicated flip. Half of me wanted to cheer because, miraculously, the stubborn, arrogant brute hadn't died of silver poisoning. The other, much larger half wanted to march into his room and pelt him with a silver-plated tray.
"And he wants me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at the boy.
"Are we sure he didn't mean he wants me executed? Because his mother certainly did."
The servant swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "He was very specific, Miss Elma. He said to bring you to his chambers. Immediately."
"Tell him I'm dead," I muttered, crossing my arms and leaning against the wooden bedpost. "Tell him the shock of almost being decapitated in his courtyard final
