Page 7 of The Throne Seeker

“And if you don’t become king?”

He hesitated, a small smile gracing his lips as he stepped into the sunlight, lightening his blond hair. “Then I’ll marry you anyway, and I won’t have to be away from you for a single moment.”

Her lips cracked upward. Despite this “plan” he had for them, things could easily go awry. With all his endearing qualities, Tristan was also hasty, stubborn, and impulsive; she didn’t want him blindsided by false pretenses. If either of them let their hearts take over, they’d both end up hurt.

Again.

Despite this, her body took over, closing the gap between them. Her arms interlocked around his neck, hugging him as she whispered into his ear, “I missed you, too.”

Tristan quickly recovered from the sudden gesture, wrapping his strong arms around her, pressing her firmly into his chest, and cradling her like she meant the world to him.

The distant sound of someone calling out interrupted them.

“Tristan? Rose? Where are you?” Harriet’s voice carried through the library, growing closer.

Rose let go of Tristan, smoothing her dress as she peeked through the books. If Harriet caught them embracing, the news would be all over the castle before you could say the wordgossip.

Tristan looked at her intently. “I want to spend as much time as possible with you this season,” he whispered.

“Won’t your father be concerned we’re getting too attached?” With Xavier still unwed, she didn’t know if he’d frown upon it.

“Do you honestly think I care?” Tristan dismissed with a raised eyebrow.

Her lips curled into a radiant smile.

“There you are,” Harriet huffed, her petite frame coming into view at the end of the aisle. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?” Her eyes narrowed at the two.

“No,” Tristan said quickly. “Sorry, Harriet. We’ve been catching up.”

Harriet’s face grew into a smile as if she’d just discovered something that pleased her. “Mother sent me to fetch you.” Before Tristan could retort, she added, “Oh, don’t give me that look. You’ll have plenty of time with her later.”

Tristan let out an irritated huff. “I’ll see you at dinner?” he said to Rose.

“See you at dinner,” she reassured him.

Tristan hesitated, as if he were worried that if he left, she’d vanish again. He gave her one last look before he was finally forced to follow Harriet down the aisle and toward the door.

She ventured deeper into the shelves in the opposite direction, absent-mindedly twirling her hair with her fingers while getting blissfully lost. She bit down on her lower lip—a sheepish smile on her lips.

And she wouldn’t be rid of it for a long while.

CHAPTER 3

Dinner that evening took place in the grand hall, though “grand” seemed an insufficient word to describe it. Twelve large wooden tables sat upon the smooth, grouted stone floor, carved from the great forests of Vertmere’s sacred woods decades earlier. Their fine grains took up most of the room, along with matching benches—each capable of seating over fifty people.

Above, a large, round chandelier made of steel and lit with candles gracefully hung at the center, suspended by irons forged by ancient dragons during King Segain’s reign several hundred years ago. Torches lined the walls, giving more light and warmth during the chilly months, while an oversized stone fireplace rested directly behind the head table, where the royal family sat.

The king’s chair was empty, alongside Roman’s, who usually sat three seats down. Xavier was also absent, but his seat next to his father’s was currently taken by Tristan.

Rose hid her surprise as she finally picked up on a strung tension in the room. No one was to sit nearer to the king than Xavier. Why was Tristan sitting in Xavier’s seat?

Tristan spotted Rose as soon as she walked in, seeming unfazed by the odd seating arrangement. His subtle smileplunged her heart into a daydream—a daydream she dreaded waking from, worried she’d find herself back home in Canteran.

Just as she and her mother were about to sit down at a table on the far side of the room, a piercing voice rang out over the crowd.

“Ah, Rose, Evelyn!” Queen Lenna rose to her feet. “My husband would like you to join us this evening for your welcome back. Rose, you’ll sit here.” The queen gestured to the vacant seat right beside Tristan where he usually sat. “And Evelyn, you will sit beside me and Harriet.”

“Certainly, Your Highness,” her mother accepted with a tight smile.