Page 175 of The False Prince (Ascendance 1)

“You cannot do this!” Veldergrath sneered. “Who are you, really? I heard Conner combed through the orphanages of Carthya. No doubt he found you there amongst the other fleas and vermin.”

“He did. I lived in several orphanages at various times, and went by the name of Sage. Trace my records back as far as you can. You’ll find the first entry about four years ago, shortly after Jaron disappeared.”

Veldergrath laughed at that. “So you admit to being one of them? Now you expect me to bow before you?”

I grinned. “You’re right. That is funny.” Then I laughed with him, laughed so hard that I put a hand on his shoulder to better share the joke. He didn’t appreciate that and slid my hand away, like brushing an earwig off his clothes.

With my other hand, I lifted a coin from his vest, and then rolled it away on my fingertips. His laughter ceased, and another chorus of whispers echoed through the room.

“You know me, don’t you, Lord Veldergrath?” He rubbed his silver ring as the signs of anxiety washed over his face. I nodded at his ring. “I stole that from you once, right off your finger. You remember that, I’m sure. It was hours before you noticed. You told my mother I was incorrigible.”

“Apparently, little has changed,” Veldergrath muttered.

More loudly, I asked, “Do I have guards in here? Escort Lord Veldergrath out of this castle.” I flipped his coin back at him. “Come up with any questions you may have to verify my identity. We’ll meet again soon, and I promise that I will satisfy you.”

Two guards appeared on either side of Veldergrath. One took his arm and began to pull him away, but he shrugged them off and said, “No, Your Highness. Now that I see you up close … there will be no questions.” Then, like a scolded dog, he walked out ahead of the guards.

“I have questions,” a voice said, again behind me. This voice I had also heard before. It was the one person I least wanted to see, though it was the most inevitable.

The betrothed princess Amarinda stood in the center of the aisle I had created by walking there. Her hair was much fancier than the last time we met, piled high on her head and full of curls and ribbon. She wore a square-necked, cream-colored dress intricately patterned in gold tones and trimmed to match the ribbon in her hair. She would have already heard the bells tolling for the deaths of the royal family. I could only imagine the pain she must have endured this evening, wondering who had been chosen as the new ruler of Carthya, and what he would do about her. No matter what her anticipations might have been for tonight, one thing was certain: She did not expect me.

I walked over to her and gave a polite bow. “Princess, it is good to see you again.”

The hard expression on her face made it clear that she did not feel the same way.

Aware of the many eyes on us, I moved closer to her and whispered, “Can we talk?”

Her tone was icy. “Talk with whom? A brazen servant, a ragged orphan, or a prince?”

“With me.”

“Here in public?” I hesitated and she added, “We’ll make a scene if we’re only talking. Dance with me.”

I started to protest, but she was right. A dance might be the best shield for the conversation we had to have. So I nodded at the musicians in the corner to begin a song. With little attempt at concealing her disgust, she took my hand and moved with me to begin the steps.

“The cut on your cheek is still there, though much improved from what it was before,” she finally said.

“It was never intended that you notice me that night,” I explained.

“Then you should not have spoken to me the way you did.”

“I sometimes lack the talent of knowing when to speak and when to keep quiet.”

“That’s not true,” she snapped. Then she took a deep breath and fell back into rhythm with the dance. “You had every opportunity to be honest with me about the one thing that mattered most! It was no lack of talent. You designed it that way.”

“I never lied to you that night, not once.”

“Even after I begged for it, you failed to tell me the truth. Only the devils know the difference between that and a lie. You have hurt and insulted me.”

I had no answer to that and only said, “You will never find me dishonest with you again, Princess.”

“I hope not. Neither to spare your feelings nor mine. How shall I address you now? You’re no longer Sage.”

The dance step called for me to lean to my right. If she noticed me wince from the ache in my ribs, she didn’t acknowledge it. When I stood straight, I could speak again. “Call me Jaron.”

“You dance like a royal, Jaron. Better than your brother did.”

“Don’t compare me to him.”