Curse of the Thorn King by Lisette Marshall EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Lisette Marshall
- Language: English
- Genre: Fairy Tales
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- Size: 2 MB
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A lady is never more vulnerable than when she is travelling,
and a refined, lady-like deportment is never more
indispensable than in the quagmire of foreign lands.
Lady Lockwell’s Handbook of Etiquette
BRIANNIS IAVI HAD NEVER used soap as a weapon before.
Over the course of a short yet illustrious career, she had killed people
with a wide range of both conventional and more innovative tools – among
them scalpels, poisoned needles, and on one memorable occasion, a stuffed
swordfish – but the use of soap had always been limited to her disciplined
routine after the deed. In those moments, of course, she applied it
generously. One did not grow up in a surgeon’s household without a firm
understanding of hygienic principles and the oozing, many-coloured
consequences an infected wound could have.
Yet on this bright autumn morning, surrounded by the jagged mountain
peaks of the Faerie realm, Briannis found herself lathering up in preparation
for a kill.
The troubling part was, of course, that she didn’t even know if it would
work – and if it would, why. But the instructions in the letter had been clear,
and no better ideas had presented themselves in the two weeks she’d
journeyed across this strange, barren land. So soap it was, abundant
amounts of it, until the fresh, grassy scent of daisies clung to every inch of
her pale skin and she was shivering in the cold mountain air.
Only then did she dress, slowly and meticulously, making sure to give the
same treatment to every single weapon in her possession. She slid into her
chemise, her stays, her stockings, then paused to rub daisy soap all over the
little knife she carried in her left garter. Petticoat, muddy travel dress, a
pause to coat the knife from her hidden skirt pocket.
Sturdy ankle boots,
two more knives. Kidskin gloves, concealing the vial of poison strapped to
the inside of her left arm. Pelisse, the fur trim home to the largest dagger
she possessed. Finally, she pinned her chestnut curls in place, using several
unnecessarily sharp hairpins of the kind that had proven their worth in the
past – embedded deep in the eyeballs of her victims.
More weapons than she’d ever needed for any job. Then again, she’d
never killed a fae king before.
Not for the first time, she fought a shiver. How had she gotten herself
into this situation, again?
The answer to that question included several dozen corpses, a decidedly
unflattering reputation, and a midnight arrest that had shocked her very
proper landlady to the core. She hurriedly pushed that train of thought
aside. Much better to think about the practicalities of the day, now that she
had all but reached her destination; it wouldn’t do to forget anything today,
standing on His Majesty’s doorstep.
She neatly folded her blankets, tucking them into the farthest corner of
the shallow cave in which she’d spent the night. Her bag came next,
carefully tied shut. Upon finding the path the evening before, she had
decided to leave her belongings behind for the final leg of the journey; if all
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