Page 25 of The Throne Seeker

“I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”

She gave him a faint smile, squeezing his hand while she fought the impulse to rest her head on his shoulder.

The massive wooden doors swung open to reveal two guards escorting Xavier in, his wrists and feet chained together. The metal clinked with each step, sending an echo throughout the quiet room. His usual well-kempt dark hair was matted, and he was still in his clothes from the previous night. A black eye and various scratches marred his handsome face, his knuckles bloodied and bruised like he’d been punching something orsomeone. He kept a neutral expression, his eyes locked straight ahead.

Seeing him in such a pitiful state stabbed her all over again.

Xavier walked up to the high table and halted in front of his father and the high council, a mere few feet from where she sat. His foul odor was a mixture of alcohol and vomit.

The king frowned as he stood, the unspoken agitation simmering beneath his gaze more potent than the hot morning rays spreading across her lap. “Xavier Montague, you are accused of assault by one of the members of this court. The offense occurred last night on Cathan’s shoreline near the hour of midnight, making the crime fall under the jurisdiction of this court.” He paused as the spectacled scribe behind him hunched over a small desk, scribbling furiously with a quill. “How do you plead?”

Xavier didn’t miss a beat. “Guilty.”

A wave of whispers flooded the room.

King Henrik’s frown shadowed into something darker. “Do you have any defense for yourself?”

“None,” Xavier drawled.

She gaped at Xavier, confounded. He wasn’t even going to contest it. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but she’d hoped he might explainwhy. So that she could discover if he felt even a hint of regret or remorse. But he just stood there with his hands at his sides, with that stupid blank stare that made her want to stride up and rattle him awake.

One of the men in the council rose to speak. She recognized him as Lord Martin, a short man with beady eyes who valued his status more than anyone else in the room combined. He had a short, thick beard, while his hair was thinning, forming a ring around his shiny scalp. Although she didn’t know him well, she found herself irritated by his tendency to insert unsolicited opinions whenever he felt like it. In past social gatherings, shehad deliberately kept her distance whenever possible. “Your Majesty, may we ask a few questions to the accuser?”

The king’s eyes shifted from Lord Martin to her. “Rose?”

The pack of wolves honed their attention on her, but her gaze went to Xavier, who still kept his eyes locked forward.

She stood, keeping herself steady. For once, she was thankful for her loose-fitting dress, hiding her shaking frame.

Lord Martin began, “Miss Versalles, the council, and no doubt many of the court members, are trying to understand what would motivate the next heir to the throne to jeopardize his succession by harming someone… such as yourself.” He gave a tight, lifeless smile as his gaze ran over her with scrutiny. “It makes one wonder what was said… or done.”

She met his dissecting gaze with forced confidence. “If you’re insinuating I instigated or wished for this, you are sorely misguided.”

Lord Martin inclined his chin. “Of course not, my lady, of course not. Forgive me; I hope I didn’t cause offense. Only… the council does not believe it is in Xavier’s nature to be violent.”

Tristan sprang up. He composed himself enough to keep his tone neutral. “Lord Martin, you are aware that Xavier’s violent actions caused a war.”

Lord Martin was unfazed by the sudden outburst. In fact, the gleam in his eyes could almost be described as conspiratorial. “Quite right, Prince Tristan, quite right. However, in that instance, there was a fairly defensible motive, don’t you agree?”

“If you think killing on impulse with no forethought of the consequences is a defensible motive to start a war.” Tristan gave a tight smile before dropping it entirely.

Lord Martin’s face broke out into a nasty grin as he faced Tristan head-on. “It appears you and Miss Versalles have grown close in her short time back,” he observed all too casually. “I’mtold it was you who found her on the beach. Quite lucky you were there. Do you often go strolling on the beach at midnight?”

She stole a glance at Tristan. Lord Martin’s words dug into something she hadn’t considered until now. If the council became aware of their attachment—which clearly they were—they’d see that Xavier was the only obstacle preventing Tristan from pursuing the throne. It had happened many times in history. Previous heirs had often been targeted and murdered, leading to new succession periods and turmoil in the province. She recalled one history lesson in particular when Queen Lucidia allegedly killed her brother in a tragic hunting incident. Rose wouldn’t be the first to be accused of concocting a plan to seize an opportunity, and she wouldn’t be the last.

She clasped her hands, locking her knees to keep herself upright. So this was what they all thought of her? Of Tristan? They truly thought they’d consider ruining Xavier to make room for Tristan’s reign? Which, in turn, would make Rose the next queen of Cathan? Did they truly believe they’d just committed treason?

Her initial reaction was denial, refusing to accept that they believed her capable of such deceit. Yet another emotion overshadowed everything else.

Fear.

More specifically, fear that Lord Martin’s implications and falsehoods might not seem so far-fetched to others. She could understand how it might make sense to an outsider. But if they believed she would do something that evil… she was standing on quicksand.

“Enough!” King Henrik thundered, directing a berating glare at Lord Martin. “This tribunal is for Xavier. It appearsIwill have to ask the important questions.”

Lord Martin bowed, silenced to submission, perching back on his chair—more like a snake coiling back into its hiding spot.

The king faced her directly. “Was Xavier on the beach with you last night?”