When Kings Rise by Vi Carter EPUB & PDF

When Kings Rise (The O’Sullivan’s Brides #1) by Vi Carter EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online

  • Status: Available for Free Download
  • Authors: Vi Carter
  • Language: English
  • Genre: contemporary romance
  • Format: PDF / EPUB
  • Size: 3.7 MB
  • Price: Free

Diarmuid
HANDS OF THE KINGS EDICT ONE
The Hand of Kings is not a political movement, rebellion, or cult. It is a
natural order of life. Just as the moon and sun command the heavens, the
Kings command the Earth.

THERE IS ALWAYS a sense of peace in chaos.
Quiet chaos, that’s what I walk into in the grand ballroom on the top
floor of the mansion. A part of me wished this could be done in my home,
but that would be unheard of. The showing of the brides was always at the
Hand of the Kings’ mansion.
The long red velvet curtains have been drawn. The gold weights that
keep the curtains in place, still shifting along the oak flooring inside their
lining, tell me they have only recently been pulled to plunge the room into a
romantic darkness.

Nonsense really.
The candles along the walls have been lit—hundreds of them—more
nonsense, but this is what the arriving brides are accustomed to— or so I’ve
heard. A room shimmering in romance, but their shaking figures scream
anything but that.

That is their way, their duty. I run my thumb along my lip as I think
about our traditions. Every King is given three candidates who must show
obedience at all times. How many kings are there? That I’m not sure of.
But right now, my three brides are obedient.

All their gazes are downcast, which is what is expected. They will only
look at me when I request it. I take my time glancing at the portraits of all
the past leaders that hang along the walls. Their eyes follow my every
move. They don’t intimidate me; they are the past, and I am the future.

The final three pictures, however, do give me pause. The first is
Andrew O’Sullivan, who was the head of the family until his recent
disappearance. A twinge of a smile dances along my lips, but I suppress it
as I stop in front of the final two paintings. One is of Richard O’Sullivan,
my father, whom everyone assumed would one day take over.
I chuckle. “You know what they say about assuming things.” Beside
him is my mother, Elise O’Sullivan.

I stare at her face, the steel gray eyes that I inherited from her. All else I
received from her was hate. Hate for how she allowed men to take me,
shape me, and damage me. She never protected me. No one did. But I
would have expected some form of protection from her as my mother.

I place my hands behind my back and walk past the row of servants.
Seven, to be exact. Once I reach the final one, the first turns, and the rest
fall into line, leaving the room. Leaving me alone with my prizes. They are
not just servants; each is chosen carefully and skilled in a variety of ways to
take a life. Working in the mansion of the “Hands of the Kings” requires
knowledge of how to kill—wolves in sheep’s clothing.
I continue my walk to the waiting brides.

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