Page 48 of The Throne Seeker

Rose returned the squeeze before joining the others at the front. She kept her head up and eyes determined, disciplining her feet to maintain a steady pace.

The five candidates had formed a line at the front, each of them also in their respective House colors. Tristan moved to stand beside her, offering a small smile. His knuckles discreetly brushed against hers—a simple touch, but it gave her the reassurance she needed.

The king announced the order. “First, we will hear from Dawnton Sansburry, next Emmett Alterridge, then Grant Montague, followed by Tristan Montague, and lastly, Rosalie Versalles.”

Applause filled the room as Dawnton stepped onto the small pulpit centered in front of the head table. He raised his dimpled chin and broadened his shoulders, having cut his black hair since their dance at the ball. His cheeks were flushed, likely from the heat in the room, or perhaps nerves.

Dawnton recounted his role in helping his father build their fortune and boasted about his contributions to improving the city of Caldiz. He proved to be an engaging speaker, andalthough he had a somewhat off-putting presence, she could see why others might be drawn to his directness.

He was much too slimy for her taste.

Next came Emmett. He delivered a remarkable speech on the origins of Cathan and its traditions. While he was quieter and more reserved than the others, he recounted a heroic story of how he’d assisted in preventing a large group of Semarian slaves from being transported to Khali, earning him enthusiastic applause and tearful reactions. She couldn’t help but admire him for it.

Grant established a strong rapport with the soldiers by sharing war stories, particularly one where he saved his men from being burned on a ship at sea after having fought alongside them. Unsurprisingly, the crowd took him as charismatic and charming. Although he was somewhat pompous, at least he wasn’t a brute like his elder brother, Mateo, who had competed in the previous succession. Beneath his exterior, she discovered a layer of self-awareness and the capacity to see beyond himself when necessary. If she or Tristan didn’t win, she’d much rather he take the crown than Dawnton.

To no surprise, all three of them had accepted their nominations.

Her nerves escalated as she squeezed the scroll in her hands, keenly aware that none of them had needed to prepare written speeches. The sound of her racing heart drowned out everything else, quickening with each passing minute as it came closer to her turn.

She hardly noticed that Tristan was next. From the moment he opened his mouth, he captivated everyone. He shared a great deal about his heritage and how influential his father had been in his upbringing. What truly touched her was his recount of when he’d discovered the city of Corrin had been burned, and how it had given him the motivation to help the peopleof Cathan. He received the most thunderous applause of the evening as he accepted his nomination.

Before she knew it, it was her turn.

All eyes fell on her as she stepped up to the pulpit. Fighting to steady her shaky hands, she opened the scroll. Her body tensed as she glanced at the hasty scribbles. She bit the inside of her cheek until it bled, leaking the metallic taste of rust and salt into her mouth.

She glanced at the crowd, determined to keep her eyes above their heads, but they inadvertently landed on the high councilmen—specifically Lord Martin, whose twisted, beady eyes gleamed pleased by her fear.

A roar of rebellion took over her body.

She closed the scroll and kept her tone even as she began. “It’s no secret that, in many ways, I am ill-fit for the crown. I am a woman with no land or power. I am neither a politician, nor high in rank. I was not there on the battlefields—” her gaze fell on the soldiers, “—but I did help those injured in the medical tents. I was forced to witness many good men die with their blood-soaked on my hands.” A lump formed in her throat as she recalled a handful of soldiers she couldn’t save. “I saw the cost of war, and I will never forget that blood payment—yourpayment. I stand here before you not as someone above you, butbecauseof you. You’ve carried the weight of the sword, and if I lead, I will help carry it again if it comes down to it. Because although this war has been won, the storm coming for Cathan is far from over. If we are to stand a chance against it, we’re going to need to stand together.”

Her gaze pierced down at the five council members who had criticized her. “You may think I have no chance of winning the succession. You may think that me standing here before you is a joke, and you may even be right,” she admitted. “But I do not wish for your approval, nor do I need it... However, I do hopethat rather than fighting, we can set aside our differences so Cathan can become as strong as it can be. Let us face the storm as we always have…Together.”

Taking a deep breath, she concluded her speech with one final statement. “I accept the nomination.”

The room went deathly silent.

That was until a single set of claps sounded.

She turned to find Tristan, his handsome face lit up with a gloriously proud smile. Soon, the king, her mother, Lord Barron, and Zareb added to his applause.

Slowly, more people joined in, and before long, the entire room was clapping together.

She glanced at the lone councilman who was not applauding. Lord Martin’s expression grew into a scowl.

She met his gaze with challenging eyes.

After all, if she was going to be called a throne seeker, she might as well live up to the name.

CHAPTER 22

An hour later, the results were in.

Out of the one hundred votes cast, Tristan gained the highest support from the soldiers with thirty-two votes, followed by Grant with twenty-four, Emmett with eighteen, Rose with fourteen, and Dawnton with twelve. She joined in the applause as the candidates received their congratulations. Although she felt let down by her low number, she held her head high. Dawnton, on the other hand, did not accept his results with as much grace, furiously whispering into his father’s ear, glaring daggers at her when he caught her staring.

She wanted to congratulate Tristan, but the thick crowd made it impossible to move anywhere.

She’d only managed to make it a few feet when a voice stopped her.