Page 108 of The Throne Seeker (Vallorian #1)

R ose spun to the source of the energy, following its trail.

A hooded figure loomed overhead on the balcony, concealed like a monster in the shadows. Two guards lay sprawled at his feet, arrows embedded in their chests, as he, like a predator, prowled to the railing. His arm was cocked, ready to send an arrow through her heart.

This was it.

She stayed exactly where she was, ready for him. Come on . Take the shot , she urged.

But at the last second, the hooded figure’s aim shifted. Panic seized every organ as he pointed his arrow at his true target. Her eyes followed his aim.

Utter dread consumed her soul.

“ Roman! ” she screamed.

Even with her inhuman speed, she didn’t have time to stop what would happen next.

Roman’s head whipped toward her scream. But her cry had only distracted him. The arrow was already airborne.

No. Not again. To the everlasting gods, please—please!

In a twist of fate, the king was making rounds and was close enough to break free from his circle of guards. He reached out, yanking Roman back—just as the arrow pierced the king’s heart.

“ No! ” Rose cried, reaching out.

Chaos ensued.

Screams and shouts of alarm spread through the crowd like a tornado. Bodies ran in every direction to reach cover. The guards sprang to action, fortifying the room. But she was hardly paying attention as she ran against the current, trying to reach the king crumpled on the floor.

Roman was already on his hands and knees beside his father. His golden eyes lifted up to hers. “Help him,” he begged.

A pool of blood was already oozing from the king’s chest and mouth, gurgling as he struggled to cough it out.

Rose knelt down, scrambling to tilt him to the side to keep him from choking, but more blood just kept replacing what pooled on the floor.

She pressed her palm around his gushing wound, blood staining her hands.

But it was a fool’s errand. It was too much.

There was nothing she could do to stop it now.

So instead, her bloodied hands reached for his. She was immediately hit with his internal panic. “It’s okay,” she whispered as tears filled her eyes. “It’s okay. You’re not alone. It’s okay.”

King Henrik’s wide, fearful eyes relaxed at her voice as she squeezed his hand. He knew what she meant.

She kissed his hand. “It’s okay,” she repeated. “Go. Be with Lenna. It’s okay. You can let go. Don’t be afraid.”

The king’s eyes twinkled for the last time as he gulped another pool of blood and?—

His grip went limp.

Her swimming gaze lifted to Roman standing overhead.

He took a staggered step back. Despair threatened to consume him, but as soon as her siren detected it, his eyes hardened, spinning into a dark rage. “ Barricade the doors! ” he bellowed, prowling in a fury. He drew his sword with a quick whip. “ No one leaves! No one! ”

She pulled the arrow out of the king’s chest, carefully wiping it clean with her dress before she inspected it. There was a faint glint of red on the tip, confirming her guess. Dragonshade.

Rose looked up to where the hooded man had stood, but of course, there was no trace of him or the energy she had felt.

She sank back onto the floor.

Her plan had failed.

After the shock wore off, the court members were all escorted to either the grand hall or their rooms. Rose assisted the healers before they took the king away, then washed the blood from her hands, though blotches still stained her dress.

Another one to burn.

The only ones left in the ballroom were Tristan, Harriet, Roman, and Xavier, along with Rose and her mother. Across from them stood the twelve high council members.

All of them listened to the report from the head guard.

“What do you mean you didn’t find him?” Roman growled with a death stare.

To his credit, the soldier stood with confidence. “We’ve accounted for everyone, General. There isn’t a soul missing or added.”

Roman cursed, folding his arms.

How could that be? How could they have missed someone with a bow and arrow in hand looking like that? People couldn’t just disappear into thin air. If what the guard said was true, then they’d have to assume?—

It was someone within the court.

“What do you want to do, Tristan?” Lord Barron asked.

All eyes fell on Tristan, whose face was paler than fresh snow. He didn’t move. His eyes didn’t even flicker, staring into space. It finally hit her—with their father gone, the succession was in motion.

Tristan was their new king.

Silence filled the hall, each high council member looking at Tristan expectantly. But Tristan was lost in another world.

“Tristan,” Rose prodded softly.

Tristan finally snapped out of it as his glossy eyes lifted to meet hers, threatening to overflow. A wave of his internal fear crashed into her—pure, justified fear. He didn’t let a soul see it but her.

Within a blink, the fear was gone, and Tristan straightened. His jaw tightened as determination took over his expression. “The enemy must be someone among us. We’ll need to interrogate each court member.”

“We could start with her,” Lord Martin sneered, his beady eyes set solely on Rose, probably resenting that she was allowed to return at all.

There it was—the suspicion. But who could blame them? Their mistrust of her had just been validated a thousand times over. Their king was dead. The court was in danger. And it was all because of her—a lying siren.

She had planned to prove her innocence to the council by finding the true culprit. But now, with empty hands and the king gone… she was on the chopping block. Her fear escalated—fear that none of them could accept her, that they’d only see her as nothing but a threat.

A throne seeker.

She tried to read them, but their emotions were so muddied she couldn’t decipher whether the council intended to hold her responsible.

Roman’s mouth curled into a snarl. “Are you suggesting she was in two places at once? She couldn’t have?—”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Lord Martin silenced him, returning his attention to Tristan. “She’s a siren. We have no idea what she’s capable of or what powers she possesses. All we know is that none of this happened until she returned.”

Roman and Xavier discreetly drew closer to her, their hands gripping the hilts of their swords. Her mother came closer, too, preparing for a fight.

Rose’s eyes flickered to Tristan, wondering if he’d defend her, too. But to her surprise, his eyes were already intently on her. Observing her. Waiting. Giving her an opportunity to speak for herself.

Understanding, she straightened her posture and took a step forward.

“I know you’ve heard stories of my kind—stories of terror and slaughter, tales of the destruction of land and theft of lives.

Some of you have even experienced the consequences of these actions firsthand, and I grieve with you.

But I am just as estranged from my kind as you are.

They are not me, and it’s neither fair nor just of you to hold their past transgressions against me.

Just as it would be unfair of me to hold you accountable for the near extinction of my kind…

I’ve known most of you nearly all my life.

I’ve sat and eaten beside you and even looked up to some of you.

” Her eyes rested on Lord Barron, his handsome eyes watching her closely.

“Ever since the moment I returned, I’ve fought for your approval.

At one point, I dearly wished for it. But you had already decided my fate before the succession had begun. ”

She paused, the room silent. “I used to wonder why such powerful men like yourselves would be so intentionally belligerent towards someone like me—a common girl with no title, power, or political sway. A girl who was only trying to secure a future for her family after being sold as a slave, auctioned to the highest bidder by a man I called my father. But now I see it’s because you’re afraid—afraid of change, afraid of what the future holds for your province, and rightly so.

As I stated in the succession, if we are to survive the storm brewing, we must set aside our fears and prejudices and all give our full support to our king.

” Her eyes flickered to Tristan. “So Cathan can remain strong as we face this new enemy… Together.”

The room was quiet. The very breaths she took sounded too loud. She studied each of their faces, ending on Tristan. A discreet hint of satisfaction shone in his eyes.

Lord Barron broke the silence. “King Henrik was one of the greatest in Cathan’s history.

He created peace within our lands, helped crops flourish, reduced poverty, and created a new way of trade that supplied wealth and livelihood to many who had none.

When war broke out, he sent his sons—his most precious possession—to aid.

And he took care of those who served him, including every one of us…

Is there any among you who would argue that? ”

Silence.

Lord Barron continued, “He saw something in Rose, and I believe in his judgment. She may be the thing we need as we enter a new era. We all know of the dangers that approach. If we are to stand a chance at facing these foes, we need to look beyond our own resources. We all saw how she sprang out of the water like a sea god, cured a poison that had long been forgotten. Imagine what else she could help us do?”

Most of them rumbled in agreement, but others didn’t look so convinced. Not surprisingly, Lord Martin was one of them.