Page 2 of The Throne Seeker (Vallorian #1)

She dared to lift her eyes from the ground, landing on the king first, sitting rightfully on his gold throne.

A sun was forged into the headrest with rays spiking into the air as sharp as swords, hovering just above his head.

Behind his throne stood three giant cathedral windows, spreading the hazy sun’s rays onto the golden chair, making it gleam.

On his right sat his queen, and to his left, Xavier, Tristan, an empty chair where Roman usually sat, and their youngest, Harriet.

Out of respect, her attention went to the king first as she fought off the burning impulse to stare at Tristan beyond her cursory glance and see how he’d aged in the last year.

King Henrik was a broad man, particularly in the shoulders.

He’d accrued more wrinkles, aging him some, and he’d let his beard grow out, now thick and full, matching his shoulder-length peppered hair.

His blue eyes twinkled as they rested on her, exactly how she remembered. Her spirits lifted at the sight.

“Welcome, dear friends,” King Henrik exclaimed with open arms, a full-width smile on his face. “It’s so good to have you back.” He descended the five shallow steps, awarding Evelyn a giant hug and ignoring formalities.

Her mother welcomed the warm gesture, beaming at her lifelong friend. “It’s good to be back, Your Majesty.”

“And my Rose! How you’ve grown!” the king said, sizing her up from head to toe.

“Your Majesty,” she greeted with a warm voice. “It’s wonderful to see you in good health.”

She was caught in the king’s embrace without a moment’s hesitation. The warm scent of cinnamon filled her lungs as she returned the gesture, instilling a sense of ease within her.

The king’s wife, Lenna, was not as keen to see them, remaining seated. Nonetheless, she gave them a most welcoming smile. “Welcome back. Forgive me for sitting. I’m afraid I’m under the weather this morning.”

Her mother stiffened next to her. “Are you quite well, Your Highness?”

The queen waved her concern away. “Oh, quite well. Just a little cold, that’s all.”

A sharp pinch of pity nipped at her as she gazed at the queen.

Gray hair, which had only been streaks last summer, had now taken over the majority of the brown.

Her frame was frailer, too. It contradicted the ferocity of her facial structure, made of an angled jaw and piercing blue eyes—eyes keen to seek out any weakness and squash it.

It was an unspoken fact the queen suffered an inherited illness—an illness that, at times, was better than others. It would seem this visit wouldn’t be one of those.

The king interrupted her thoughts, gesturing to the oldest of his offspring. “Xavier.”

Rose’s back straightened as she sucked in a discreet breath and held it.

Xavier came forward, though he made it a point to drag his feet, taking his sweet time to approach.

Even as he stood just a few feet in front of her, he wouldn’t meet her gaze.

His once-short black hair was now overgrown, resting just above his shoulders.

There was something… uncontrolled about him, something out of place. Rose couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

Xavier greeted her mother first. “Evelyn,” he acknowledged informally.

Her mother bowed. “I’m so glad you could be here to greet us. It’s been too long.”

Xavier gave her mother an expression she assumed was supposed to be a smile; it looked more like he’d strained a muscle. “Of course.”

Her mother put her hand on her back, urging her forward. “And Rose is glad, too, of course.”

Rose fought the urge to step hard on her mother’s foot. Instead, she bowed with a small incline of her head, her heartbeats increasing.

His indifference cut straight through her core when his light, icy-blue eyes finally met hers, sweeping her from top to bottom, dissecting her like an insect under a magnifying glass—harsh enough for the icy air surrounding him to sink into her bones.

“Rose,” Xavier acknowledged in a bored tone. He returned his attention to his father, releasing her from his scrutinizing gaze. “I’d love to stay, but I have obligations to attend to.”

“You’ll stay until you’re excused, Xavier,” the queen said, her voice as sharp as the edges of the swords spiking from the throne.

Xavier cast an apologetic glance at his mother, though his tone betrayed him. “I wish I could, but regrettably, I’m to oversee the hunt.”

Before the queen could scold him, the king intervened quietly. “Let him go, Lenna.”

With a brief bow to his parents, Xavier left, sidestepping Rose like a poisonous flower.

She couldn’t help but stare after him. What in Vallor? It was true that they’d grown apart before she’d left, but she had still been expecting a warmer greeting than that.

The king didn’t miss a beat, turning to his next oldest. However, Tristan made his introduction by addressing her mother first. “Hello, Evelyn; how wonderful it is to see you again. You look as radiant as ever.”

Her mother blushed. “Oh, you flatter me. But look at you—you’ve grown! Just as Rose has.”

Rose became carefully still as his blue eyes barreled straight through hers—hauntingly deep and as mesmerizing as the Meridian Sea.

Sun exposure had highlighted his wavy blond hair, now shaggy and grown out, resting just above his brows.

She liked it, she decided; it complemented his strong facial structure, resembling his mother’s.

“Hello, Rose,” he greeted, taking her hand in his and placing a feathered kiss on it.

A jolt of lightning traveled up her arm from the simple touch, warming her blood. She did her best to keep her feet steady, locking her knees before they failed—and was left wondering if he felt the same energy or if he’d hold their last encounter against her.

Her mouth split into a wide smile. “Hello, Tristan.”

Before Tristan could utter another sentence, the last and youngest of the Montague family bounced towards her, forcing her older brother out of the way, unable to keep still any longer.

“Oh, Rose, how I’ve missed you!” Harriet exclaimed as the sixteen-year-old flung her arms around her.

She couldn’t help but smile as her heart simultaneously twisted. Harriet had become a young woman in her absence, a tad shorter than Rose, though still growing. Her bright, icy-blue eyes and long black hair resembled those of her most favored brother.

The queen scolded Harriet from afar. “Harriet, have you learned nothing in our lessons?”

Harriet let go of her, pretending to be poised as she inclined her head. “My apologies. Hello to you, too, Evelyn,” Harriet greeted with a sheepish grin. “It’s so lovely to have you both back. I don’t know why you insist on leaving at all. Surely, this is your true home by now.”

Her mother smiled, patting her shoulder. “You make us feel right at home, but I’m afraid we cannot always burden you with our presence.”

“Harriet makes a fair point, Evelyn,” the king agreed. “Your husband wouldn’t want you to be on your own.”

The mention of her father made her shift in her stance.

The king and her father had been close friends until his sudden death last year.

Why the king had bothered to be friends with a man like her father was something Rose had asked herself many times.

But then again, the king had never seen what she and her mother had.

“Yes, I know.” Her mother didn’t even deny it. “But we had other matters to attend to, as you well know… His passing has not been easy.”

Rose’s eyes fell to the floor as she pressed her lips together. And not out of respect for the dead.

“You’ll have to forgive Roman’s absence,” the queen interjected, changing the subject before her husband could pester them further. “He’s been away for quite some time as general.”

Rose couldn’t hide the shock wreaking havoc on her face.

Her mother recovered first. “Our little Roman? Off in the war against Vertmere?” She looked between the king and queen. “Goodness, I could swear he was just a boy the last time I saw him. Now he’s off to fight wars? We are getting old.”

Rose had to agree. Twenty-two seemed too young to be thrown into war. He was too fragile, too kind to carry such a burden. He’d always been the warmest of the brothers. To hear of him fighting a war as a general… It was nearly unfathomable. “Is it safe for him?”

A foolish question: war was dangerous for everyone.

The king and Tristan chuckled at her worry.

“You haven’t seen him for some time. Rest assured, Roman is more than capable of handling himself,” the king informed her.

“His leadership and tactical skills give us the upper hand in this war. Don’t fret; he’ll be back in time for the celebration tonight.

He’s negotiating a peace treaty with Vertmere on our behalf as we speak. ”

Before Rose could reply, they were interrupted by a servant. “Forgive me, your Highness, but the hunt is ready and waiting for your arrival.”

The king gave a dismissive nod. “I’ll be there momentarily.” His twinkling blue eyes looked to Rose and her mother. “Would you two like to see the sport?”

“I’m afraid I’ve grown tired after our journey,” her mother said in a regretful tone. Rose knew better. “But Rose may find it entertaining?”

The king glanced over to his son. “Tristan? Why don’t you escort her?”

“I think I’ll stay,” Tristan said instead. “Go on a walk with Rose before the celebration. It’s been a while; maybe it’ll give us time to catch up.” Tristan looked to her for confirmation.

Rose nodded, doing her best not to look too eager, even though her fingertips tingled with hope. “Yes, I’d like that.”

The king accepted his answer as if he’d known all along that Tristan would prefer that instead. “Very well, then I’ll excuse myself. I’ll see you both tonight.”

Before leaving, the king gave his queen a chaste kiss on the lips, whispering something into her ear. The queen’s mouth raised into a poised smile as they rubbed their noses together.

Rose watched them with near envy, pleased to see the past year’s hardships had not altered their devotion to one another.

The older she became, the more she grasped how rare their love was.

She’d never seen anything quite like it—her parents’ relationship had been void of the affection she’d so regularly seen on display here.

As a girl, she’d prayed that whoever she married would love her as devotedly as Henrik loved Lenna.

“Would you like to accompany Rose and me?” Tristan asked her mother.

Evelyn waved her hand. “Oh, no. I have so much to do before the celebration tonight, but you two go on ahead. But don’t dally too long, Rose. We have to get you ready for your debut.”

Harriet was about to speak up, but the look she received from the queen silenced her. Harriet let out a disappointed sigh. “I’ll stay here with Mum.”