Page 35 of The Throne Seeker

With a look as strong as armor, she barreled past his invisible wall. “Everyone makes mistakes, Xavier. And I’m sorry to break it to you, but everyone in this world will go on making them. But that’slife; if we don’t make mistakes and take risks, we’re not living. Don’t punish yourself so harshly for past mistakes that you won’t live to make new ones… I know I won’t.”

The mask he wore slipped away, letting her catch a glimpse of his soul.

There was the man who’d spent late nights reading with her, quizzing her endlessly to prove who was smarter. The man who’d looked up at the sky, found a constellation shaped like a rose, and proclaimed it hers. It was as refreshing as plunging into icy water on a scorching day—shocking every pore, but also made her feel entirely alive.

His crisp breath brushed against her skin, slowly tucking her hair behind her ear. Her breaths became shallow as he tilted his head and whispered, “It’s good I’m leaving, because there is no way in hell I could stay and watch that bastard have you… Tristan better take damn good care of you.”

Her eyes fluttered shut. He said it like… like she meant something to him. He’d never seen her as anything but a little sister—he’d said so himself. But as she opened her eyes again to meet his, she couldn’t help but wonder if he had ever felt something… more. Or if it was her teenage heart still grasping at straws.

Xavier leaned in, his lips nearly brushing hers as he spoke. “Goodbye, smart-ass,” he whispered.

Her heart halted at the sound of her old nickname on his lips.

It caught her so off guard, she couldn’t even form a sentence before he opened the door and left.

She stared at the door, silence ensuing. She should feel comforted by the fact that he’d come to see her, but all it had done was fill her with more questions.

Xavier had been angry at Tristanbeforehe’d lost the crown. So what was it exactly that he was so angry about? What could be so grave as to merit all of this hate?

The more she thought about it, all roads led to Tristan—Xavier’s resentment, anger, and even his outbursts toward her seemed to be solely directed at his brother. But Tristan claimed to have no idea why… or did he? If so, what horrible act could Tristan have done to make Xavier willing to lose everything he’d once had?

She didn’t know. But what was more unnerving was the thought that perhaps she didn’t know Tristan as well as she’d thought she did.

“Goodbye, Xavier,” she whispered into the empty void.

CHAPTER 16

In the coming days, the servants dedicated hours to preparing the castle—setting up additional rooms, stocking pantry supplies, and rearranging the grand hall for all the supporters coming for the succession. The groundskeeper had outdone himself, trimming the boxwood bushes on the patio into a perfect replica of Cathan’s sun symbol. They even added extra torches to light the gardens at night, showing off Rose’s favorite bed of summer carnations.

She knew Xavier’s departure would cast a gloom over the castle, but she didn’t realize how ominous that cloud would be. Stares and whispers trailed her wherever she went, some out of harmless curiosity, others with harsh judgment. She would be thankful when the visitors arrived, if only for the sliver of distraction they’d bring.

As promised, she had acquired a personal guard, Zareb. He was a formidable man, his wide, muscular frame living proof of his prowess. His deep brown eyes were set in rich beautiful brown skin and framed by buzzed black hair. He was ten years older than her and rumored to be an exceptional fighter, hand-picked by the king himself. He’d just returned from the war and hailed from the Semaria province, a fact that explained hisrefined combat skills. Despite his intimidating appearance, she soon discovered he was a man of few words, which she found oddly refreshing.

Since her debut, she waited for suitors to call on her, but none did. Not a single one. While she felt a twinge of relief—and a slightly bruised ego—a growing concern gnawed at her. Was she not the catch she and her mother had thought? Were the rumors surrounding them worse than she had feared? Perhaps they deemed her too low in rank?

Rose thought she might be imagining things until the morning she had tea with her mother on her bedroom balcony. A gentle breeze came from the west, brushing the tablecloth against the stones at their feet while the distant waves crashed onto the shore.

“Rose, I’m worried,” her mother confessed after setting down her teacup on the rounded glass table.

“Why? What’s happened?” she asked, putting her cup down beside her mother’s.

“Nothing, that’s what,” her mother snipped, whipping out her fan and fanning her face in tiny flutters to keep the heat at bay. “So far, no one besides Tristan and Grant have shown the slightest interest in courting you.”

She had a hard time being upset by the fact. “Maybe it’s for the best… I’d only disappoint them.”

Her mother stopped fanning herself. “You most certainly would not. I was there. I saw how they all looked at you. They couldn’t keep their eyes off you! After the succession nomination, men should be lined up at the door. It just doesn’t make sense.” She leaned in, lowering her voice. “You haven’t told anyone of our circumstances?”

Rose glared at her, appalled. “Of course not.”

Her mother leaned back, flapping her fan once again. “Then what in Vallor are they waiting for?”

“Perhaps they don’t like me as much as you had presumed,” she said, playing devil’s advocate.

“No, I have a keen intuition when it comes to these things. I’m never wrong… But I suppose there’s still time. Tristan will surely be glad to hear—” Her mother stopped, her eyes widening. “Tristan.”

“What about him?”

“He’sthe reason you don’t have suitors!” her mother exclaimed, like she’d just solved a mystery.