Page 4 of The Throne Seeker (Vallorian #1)

D inner 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 smile plunged 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.

Rose went to take her seat, but not before exchanging a subtle glance with her mother. A sense of unease coiled within her as she ignored the watchful eyes of the court. Now, both she and Tristan would be sitting closer to the king than Xavier.

Once she sat down, the crowd gradually lost interest and returned to their own conversations. Her relief was fleeting, however, as Xavier soon appeared through the double doors.

Xavier kept his face carefully blank when he saw Tristan and Rose. However, she swore a slight shadow crossed his face.

Without a word, he took the empty seat beside her.

“Xavier,” she dared to acknowledge him. “Did the hunt go well?”

Xavier gulped his wine. He took so long that she wondered if he would reply at all. Without looking at her, he simply stated, “It did.”

She took the hint he didn’t want to talk. As she took her napkin, her gaze shifted to Tristan to see if he saw the color burning her cheeks. His expression softened, worried that Xavier had upset her. She offered him a gentle, reassuring smile.

But of course, Tristan wouldn’t have it. “You must have fallen from your horse during the hunt and banged that large head of yours, Xavier. Surely, you should know how to speak to a lady.”

Xavier’s dead eyes slid to Tristan, disregarding the fact she was sitting between them. “I don’t care to waste my breath.” He took another drink.

Her eyes fell to her plate. What in Vallor was wrong with him? She couldn’t think of anything she’d done to warrant such hostility from him.

Tristan narrowed his eyes at his brother. She shook her head, silently urging him to let it go, but he was already agitated.

“Interesting seating arrangement Father chose, isn’t it?” Tristan remarked nonchalantly, sipping on his drink.

Rose nearly choked on her water.

Xavier’s hand on the table tightened into a fist, but he remained calm, ignoring Tristan’s bait. In any case, he didn’t have time to respond as the grand hall doors opened to reveal their father.

Everyone stood in unison in respect for their king. Out of the corner of her eye, Rose noticed Xavier was still seated. She worried he wouldn’t get up at all. However, slowly but surely, he stood with the same unreadable expression.

The king cast Xavier a long, measured stare as he strutted past them toward his chair. With a simple wave of his hand, he signaled for everyone to sit.

Xavier took another swig from his drink before pounding his glass down with a loud thud. He swiped the bottle from the table, rising so quickly he almost toppled his chair. The screech against the stone was so loud it made her jump. He stalked away, not caring if he made a scene.

After a brief glance at his son, the king turned to address the court, unfazed by his abrupt exit.

Perhaps that had been his plan all along.

He extended a warm welcome to Rose and her mother and praised the successful hunt the party had earlier that day.

The servants brought out the hefty pig they’d slaughtered to be butchered and divided, along with a medley of vegetables, berries, and wild herbs.

It was hard to recall the last time she’d enjoyed a feast like this.

Since her father’s death, they had no longer been able to afford such luxuries.

The moment her plate was full, Rose dug in, but as dinner continued, she occasionally glanced at Xavier’s empty chair. She couldn’t help but feel partially responsible for him leaving, like somehow her simple presence had added more strain to the situation.

Tristan must have noticed her downcast glances because he said, “Don’t worry about him. I stopped a long time ago.”

She set down her fork, shock forming on her face. “How can you say that? He’s your brother.”

Tristan’s eyes turned molten. “Blood doesn’t make a brother.”

She was stunned by the bitterness in his voice. Sure, their relationship had always been rocky, but she hadn’t realized it had become near nonexistent.

He sensed her apprehension. “There are things you don’t know.”

“Tell me.”

Tristan hesitated, considering whether to confide in her.

He peered over his shoulder to see if anyone was listening.

Satisfied, he lowered his voice as he said, “Soon after you left the castle last summer, we were dispatched to train troops in Corrin.

My father appointed Xavier to lead the expedition and sent Roman and me along with him…

“A few weeks into training, we traveled just outside the city to practice a few formations. But when we returned, we found the city burned to nothing but ash. Homes were destroyed, property stolen, bodies mauled and left scattered. It was enough to shower ourselves in their blood a thousand times over.” He paused, attempting to shove the memories aside.

“There were no survivors. However, a few people living outside the city reported a group of masked men with no symbol but who wore a strange mark on their arms. We soon discovered the men were not soldiers from Vertmere’s army at all. ”

She absorbed the information, but it still didn’t make sense. “If they weren’t Vertmerian soldiers, then who were they? What motive could they have for attacking an innocent city?”

Tristan shrugged. “We can’t be sure. However, Corrin sits close to the Vertmere border, and rumors circulated that there was illegal trade between them.

According to the survivors, Corrin’s controller had made enemies with a rebel group just beyond the border.

We suspect this band of rebels was responsible for attacking the city…

” He paused as a servant refilled his glass, then took a sip, waiting for him to leave before continuing.

“We informed the king of Vertmere of the rebel group in his territory. He insisted that he knew nothing of the quarrel.”

“I don’t understand. What’s this got to do with Xavier?” she asked.

“After we discovered the city had been burned, something in Xavier… snapped . We were welcomed into Vertmere’s province a few weeks later.

The Vertmerian king presented us with gifts, food, and even gold,” Tristan recounted.

“It was evident he had no involvement in the attack nor a desire for war. He understood Vertmere would likely lose in a conflict with Cathan. It made no sense for him to send men to attack us. We believed it was only an isolated group of insurgents—except for Xavier. Just as we were about to leave, Xavier unexpectedly attempted to assassinate the Vertmerian king.”

“What?” She gawked at him. “Why would he do that?”

Tristan’s eyes cooled a few degrees. “Because that is who Xavier is now. He doesn’t think with his head anymore. He lets emotion rule him like a fool. He had no care for what the actions of that day would lead to—war.”

“But he must have had a reason.”

His expression was unforgiving. “None that could justify what he did.”

She struggled to believe it. Xavier must have known the consequences of such a violent action would lead to war. So it raised a critical question: what could have been so vital that he would risk it all?

She had been so engrossed in their conversation that she didn’t realize the others had nearly finished their meals.

Tristan stood. “I need to take care of a few things before we move to the ballroom. Will you save me a dance?”

It was a good thing she was sitting, or his dazzling smile might have made her stumble. It was nearly enough to make her forget their earlier conversation.

She arched an eyebrow. “You’re going to dance with me? Willingly?”

Tristan rolled his eyes, leaning in to whisper, “Only so I can be close to you.”