Page 36 of The Throne Seeker (Vallorian #1)

A fter the meeting ended, Rose left the council chambers with her mother and Zareb, walking down the darkened corridors back to their rooms. She didn’t notice her mother’s drained, pale face until they were on the winding staircase down to the second floor.

“Rose, I wish you would reconsider,” her mother whispered, so low that her voice couldn’t carry in the echo of their footsteps. “The council could find out everything if they ask the right questions.”

She had been considering that since the challenge was announced. She might have been willing to risk her own secrets, but what of her mother’s? Zareb’s? Was it fair to risk their livelihoods?

“The lotus plant isn’t as bad as it sounds,” Zareb said from behind, making them jump, not used to him speaking up.

Rose stopped mid-step on the stairwell, looking up at him. “You’ve taken it?”

Zareb nodded. “More than once. It’s common where I’m from.

It’s often used in Semaria for spiritual cleansing to determine what ails the mind.

If untrained, you’ll easily spill out the first words that come into your head, but if I help you prepare and recognize what’s happening, you can fortify your mind and slow your words, answer questions with part truths. ”

His words offered her hope. After all, the king was aware of her situation, and he’d make sure the council didn’t stray from the questions regarding her capability as a ruler. She had to believe King Henrik wouldn’t have put her up for the challenge if he’d thought it would endanger her.

“I can help you,” Zareb reassured her. “Don’t let them scare you. Training your mind is similar to training your body. You just need practice.”

Her eyes settled on her mother, wondering if it offered her any reassurance. Her mother’s eyes pierced into Zareb’s. “Are you absolutely sure you can help her?”

“Yes,” Zareb said confidently.

Her mother conceded, the look of death still upon her face, even as she gave a slight nod. “Alright.”

And it was settled.

They exited the stairwell, and their conversation fell into a thoughtful silence. She had just rounded the corner when she spotted Grant sauntering alone down the hall ahead of them, going back to his room.

An idea popped into her mind—an idea that might just save Zareb from Tristan and the high council if things went awry tomorrow.

“I need to speak to Grant,” she said out of the blue.

Her mother’s eyes widened in surprise. “What now? Whatever for?”

Without answering, Rose turned to Zareb. “I promise I won’t be long. I’ll meet you back at the room.” Without waiting for a response, she padded after Grant, practically having to run to catch up with his large strides.

Grant must have heard her light footsteps because he glanced over his shoulder. His face brightened as soon as he spied her. “Fancy seeing you here. You know, you scared me when I couldn’t find you after yesterday’s ordeal.”

“Glad to know you still care.”

Grant’s smile morphed into a sly one. “Only for you.”

She was counting on it. “Can we talk in private?”

His brow quirked. “Of course.”

Neither spoke as she brought him to the edge of the large terrace facing the western sea. The midnight sky was netted with stars and two moons, shining their cool light. Grant observed her as they leaned against the railing, as if trying to figure out what in Vallor was going through her mind.

“Look, I’m sorry to bother you when the second challenge is less than twelve hours away.” She nervously threw the skirt of her dress behind her.

Grant slid closer. “Are you going to tell me why you look so worried? I assume it’s not because you’re ready to declare your secret undying love for me.” A ghost of a smirk crossed his lips.

She wasn’t in the mood for teasing. “I need to ask you a favor. And I need you to give me your word you won’t tell a soul.”

His bright green eyes flickered with curiosity. “You have it.”

She took a mental breath, hoping she wouldn’t regret this later. “I’ve been learning how to wield a sword,” she admitted as quickly as ripping off a bandage. It was too late to go back now.

Grant’s brow peaked in surprise, keeping his eyes fixated on her, waiting for her to continue.

“Tristan found out this morning, and he thinks it’s you who’s been teaching me. It’s a long story, but I may have alluded to it. If he comes to you, I need you to tell him it’s true.”

Grant cocked his head slightly, his expression serious for once. “You want me to admit I’ve been training you? To fight?”

She nodded, slipping her hand into his, knowing full well what she was doing—and so did he. Nonetheless, he gripped her hand back tightly.

“Yes,” she whispered into the cool air.

Grant’s green eyes shifted out into the night, considering her offer as new clouds on the horizon crept across the sea to the shore. His silence lasted so long that she questioned if she’d made a mistake.

Finally, his dangerous green eyes flashed back to hers. “I assumed as much in the first challenge… You continue to be more than meets the eye, Rosalie Versalles,” he said as he finally came to a conclusion. “Okay.”

Now, it was her turn to be surprised. “Okay?”

“Okay,” he repeated.

She was amazed that he would trust her without question. At that moment, she let herself wonder if she had to marry Grant, would it be as bad as she’d made herself believe?

“That’s it? You’re not going to ask more questions?”

“I don’t need to, but you do have to promise me something in return.”

She reinforced her walls; she should’ve expected as much. “And what’s that?”

“When the time comes, you won’t stop me when I try to kiss you.” He eased closer, his lips millimeters from hers. “You’ll give me a fair shot and remember how willing I was to help when you needed it.”

Her eyes held steady despite being surprised by his request, trying to discourage any second thoughts about his promise.

“And I get to pick the time and place for this kiss.” He tucked her hair behind her ear.

She cursed herself for how much power she’d just given him, wholeheartedly counting on his feelings for her to keep it a secret. And he knew it. “Agreed.”

A large, flirtatious smile filled his face as he tilted up her chin. “Don’t look so worried, love… I promise it won’t be as painful as it sounds.”

“Rose?” Tristan’s voice called.

She withdrew from Grant, dropping his hand and whipping around to find Tristan.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, his voice painfully cold. So unlike him.

Grant’s grin resembled that of a Sphinx. “Actually, yes. I was just telling Rose how talented she is. She has so many talents, wouldn’t you say? Talents most women don’t acquire…” He placed his hand strategically on the hilt of his sword.

Tristan’s agitated gaze darkened—if it was even possible. “It’s you,” he seethed, his eyes narrowing with pure hatred. “Of course it’s you.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Grant said, knowing Tristan had no proof of what he insinuated.

Tristan went to pull out his blade.

“Tristan, don’t.” Rose took five quick steps, swiftly putting her hand on his to keep his sword in its scabbard. “You’ll be thrown out of the succession.”

“I don’t care,” Tristan spat.

“Tristan.” Rose snatched his chin, forcing him to look at her. “ Don’t .”

At last, Tristan looked at her. His eyes softened—but only minutely.

She let go of his face but kept her hand on his as she faced Grant. “You can go, Grant.”

“Are you sure?” Grant asked, his eyes darting back and forth between the pair.

“She’s sure.” Tristan’s hand tightened on his hilt.

Grant’s gloating arrogance reappeared. “Well, I’m not so sure. Not to be rude, cousin, but you don’t look well. I’m not sure you’re in the right… mindset for this next challenge.” His smile came and left, falling into an uncharacteristic line. “But I guess that’s good news for me.”

Tristan went to draw his sword again, but she held his hand down firm.

“I’ll be fine. Please leave,” she said, glaring a final warning at Grant.

To her relief, Grant threw up his hands, retreating. “Alright… I’ll be in the grand hall for an hour if you need anything,” he said pointedly to her.

With that, he strutted back inside.

She didn’t let her hand off the hilt of Tristan’s sword until Grant was well out of sight.

Tristan didn’t waste a moment, rounding on her. “Where have you been all day?” His tone didn’t waver an inch in Grant’s absence.

“I went riding with Zareb,” she said, her words clipped. “I didn’t think you wanted to see me after what happened this morning.”

Tristan’s fingers combed through his hair. “You think after telling me something like that, I wouldn’t wonder where you’d gone? Is that why you were both late? Were you with Grant?” His anxiety was near tangible. She could almost feel it creeping out of him.

She attempted to move closer, but he skirted around her like a whip, going to the edge of the balcony.

He ran his hand through his hair again. “I need you to stop seeing him.”

She prepared herself for another fight. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Why? Have you gotten attached?”

The jealous territorial git. “Stop it. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you .”

“Bullshit. You courting Grant is for me? Alright, well, let me relinquish that notion right here, right now. I don’t want you seeing him, touching him, or even being near him.

I don’t want you seeing anyone. I. Want.

You. I don’t give a damn what my father says, what my mother says, what the high council says?—”

“Shhh!” She shushed him before someone heard. “You can’t think like this! Not now. Not with this challenge tomorrow.”

“Let them invade my mind. Let them see just how strong I am and what I can do. I’m not afraid.”

“Tristan, we’re so close. A few more days—just a few more days, and this will all be over.”

“Do you have feelings for him?”

Her expression hardened. “No, and I’m getting tired of reassuring you I don’t.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t give me reasons to believe otherwise.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. “I’m not doing this.” She whirled to leave, but his hand shot out and grabbed her arm.

“Imagine if you’d just walked in on me that close to another woman.” His voice broke. “How would you react?”

She clenched her jaw. She wouldn’t handle it well. That she knew.

“I know how it would feel. It would hurt. But I’d also trust you when you said you love me.”

She tried to leave again, but his grip was firm. Finally, she confronted his gaze on the imaginary battlefield.

“I’m sorry,” he said, defeated. He looked down at his hand on her arm, his eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, quickly letting go of her arm as he paced.

If it had been any other day, she would have stormed out. Yelled at him. But he’d be in no state to go into the second trial. And Zareb was still waiting for her. So, instead, she resigned.

“I’m not going to hold this against you because I know what tomorrow means,” she said, her words coming out as sharp as carefully poised icicles. “I’m going to go to bed. I’ll see you at the challenge.”

Tristan parted his lips to speak, but she silenced him with, “Good night.”

She left him alone on the balcony without a backward glance.

Tomorrow’s challenge might be the most dangerous task she’d faced yet.

And she would be her own undoing.