Page 31 of The Throne Seeker

Shock rippled through the high council, gaping at their king, who had clearly gone rogue. The royal family looked just as baffled as everyone else. From the utter alarm on Tristan’s face, she doubted he had any knowledge of his father’s intentions either.

Rose barely registered any of it as each heartbeat thundered in her ears. It didn’t make sense. She couldn’t be in the succession. She was no one. Sure, anyone within the court could theoretically be nominated, but never had anyone outside the strong bloodlines been chosen.

The court looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to stand.

Summoning her courage, she pushed herself up, clenching her hands to quell their shaking. The tension was so thick, every movement she made felt like it faced resistance. She avoided eyecontact—she didn’t need eyes to see their objections. She didn’t need ears to hear their whispers, or lips to taste their judgment, or even hands to feel their disapproval.

In the midst of the quiet, the king clapped. The sound echoed, encouraging a weak wave of claps to follow. She couldn’t force a smile or a wave. Instead, she offered a slight bow, and took her seat as soon as it was appropriate.

She leaned toward her mother. “Did you know anything about this?” she whispered.

“Not a damn thing,” her mother replied, taking a long, self-medicating sip of her wine.

“What do I do?” She tried to swallow, but a lump got stuck in her throat.

Her mother plastered a smile onto her face to maintain appearances as the court continued to stare at them, whispering behind their hands. “I don’t know, but smile. People are watching.”

The king reclaimed the floor with his booming voice. “This year’s succession challenges will test our candidates in every way. For the first challenge, each candidate will lead their company and attempt to retrieve a golden sun amulet. To do this, we will hold a rally in which they will have a chance to sway a hundred men to join their company. Once the companies are decided, the real challenge will begin.

“One of the most important things a leader can learn is how to earn the respect and support of the men who serve them. To know when to stop and think, or when to surrender… or to break every last bone!” the king said louder. “In two weeks, we will begin with the rally to see who has what it takes to lead the people of Cathan.”

With a triumphant smile on his face, the king raised his glass. “To succession!”

“To succession!” the court shouted back, raising their chalices. Rose lifted hers with them, taking a long,longdrink.

Beside her, Grant placed his empty goblet on the table, smirking as he leaned closer to whisper, “Perhaps I have another opponent to worry about after all.”

CHAPTER 14

Two hours after the opening ceremony concluded, the king, Tristan, Rose, and her mother met in the king’s study. Although her neck throbbed with every pulse, the pain was nothing compared to the more pressing matters.

Like why the king had chosen to put her in the succession.

The study felt smaller than she remembered. It had high ceilings, but every nook and cranny was stuffed with books, parchments, and maps, except for the large window looking over the sea. The dark, relentless rain from the storm left crooked streaks on the glass, allowing the burning flames from the fireplace to cast shadows throughout the room.

The king settled in his chair across from Rose and her mother, sliding an old mug aside to clear the parchment-laden desk, and leaving Tristan to brood by the fire.

“What in Vallor were you thinking, Henrik?” her mother said, so cross she risked addressing him informally. “How could you do such a thing without consulting us first?”

The king interlocked his hands on the desk. “I know you’re upset?—”

“Upset?” her mother scoffed. “Youknowhow dangerous these successions are.”

“I agree with Evelyn,” Tristan said, doing a masterful job of keeping his tone even. “The nomination alone puts a target on her back.”

“I will assign a skilled personal guard to stay with her at all times,” King Henrik reassured.

This did not appease her mother in the slightest. “How is that supposed to help? There’s no protection during the challenges!”

“She is every bit as prepared as the other candidates,” the king quipped, unyielding. “Her intelligence is enough to rival that of any successor this castle has seen in decades. She has the heart of a natural leader, and I know she is more than capable of the task.”

Her mother glared so fiercely, she was amazed the king didn’t have a hole burned through his head. “You ask too much this time.”

King Henrik didn’t reply as he exhaled, looking to Rose instead. “Rose? What do you think?”

She absentmindedly lifted her eyes from her lap, refocusing on him. As much as she’d like to own up to all the wonderful things he claimed, it was madness. Absolute madness. How could someone like her, with no political influence, power, or wealth, possibly be suited to be in the succession? Her goal was to marry and secure a future for herself and her mother. That was it. She had no desire to be involved in the challenges.

She found her voice. “Though I am flattered by Your Majesty, I believe you’re overestimating my hand; I don’t possess the qualities to tempt anyone—let alone the council—to support me in the succession.”