Page 49 of The Throne Seeker (Vallorian #1)

T he following evening, no matter how many deep breaths Rose took, she couldn’t slow her racing heart. This was it—the moment they’d all been waiting for, the night they’d reveal the winner of the succession. The night that would determine her fate.

The throne room buzzed with murmuring voices, the air thick with a nervous energy as the court gathered, waiting for the deliberations. Whispers trailed after her wherever she went. She did her best to ignore them, focusing on trying to drink from her glass despite her aching wrists.

The sunset’s rays poured through the three giant windows facing the sea, casting a crimson haze over the large room and onto the throne’s gleaming sun spikes.

“It seems as though your ride on the sea beast has given you quite the reputation,” her mother noted, listening to the gossip. “You’ll go down in history for it, mark my words.”

Rose didn’t respond, her gaze fixated on the royal pair at the front of the room near the throne.

Satin had strategically placed herself next to Tristan, and to Rose’s annoyance, they were talking.

The foreign princess didn’t bother hiding her attraction to him—gawking at him with those wide brown eyes underneath her leafed crown.

Her body turned towards him as she hung on his every word.

Tristan remained disinterested, but still—something ugly stirred beneath her skin as she watched the girl with narrowed eyes.

Her mother followed her eyeline. “Don’t worry, my dear, she’s nowhere near your playing field.”

Rose refrained from rolling her eyes. If only that were true.

At last, King Henrik and the high councilmen came to end her agony. She strained her neck to peek over the crowd to see the king’s face, trying to read his expression, but he expertly masked any signs of emotion. It was equally likely to be good or bad news.

The king stood before his majestic bronzed throne. “I want to thank all of you for being patient during the deliberation and the voting. And I also want to thank each of you who have come to support this succession period.”

Applause filled the hall.

“And I also want to thank each candidate for giving everything they had to this cause. But only one can be the victor. This successor showed all the traits Vallor treasures—strength, resiliency, bravery, loyalty, and all the honor that a leader can possess. It was a close vote, but the hard work is done, and the high council and I have reached a decision…” The king paused, lowering his gaze with—was it disappointment?

Rose hadn’t realized that she had stopped breathing or that her heart was no longer beating.

It felt like even the blood swimming in her veins stopped as she squeezed the fabric of her dress, her white knuckles standing stark against the teal fabric.

She ignored everything else and focused on the words about to escape his lips.

But it was a ploy as the king’s eyes snapped up with a giant smile. “ My son, Tristan Montague! ” the king bellowed as the room erupted with cheers.

It was the happiest she’d ever seen Tristan.

He jumped straight up, punching his fist triumphantly into the air.

Roman roared alongside him as he roughly grabbed his brother’s shoulders with a victorious grin.

Queen Lenna smiled wide, not even scolding Harriet for jumping up and down with her brothers.

The king embraced him with open arms, clapping his hands on Tristan’s back with pride.

The cheers and shouts were overwhelming, and the volume in the room only grew louder as glasses shot into the air.

Rose should have been cheering with the rest of them. She tried to make herself move, to make herself clap. But she couldn’t get her body to listen as something came over her.

Her world became quiet, as if invisible ear muffs had been placed over her ears. Her ribs grew tight, restricting her shallow breaths as she bit the inside of her cheek, lowering her gaze. It took her a moment to understand what she felt—disappointment.

But not because she didn’t win.

She cast her eyes on another who wasn’t celebrating.

Grant was leaning against one of the giant pillars, taking a long drink from his chalice, his face artfully blank.

She was sure his disappointment was far beyond hers.

He’d been close—so close. If it weren’t for the sea beast, he probably would’ve won.

Despite all this, she had a feeling he knew his quest had been doomed from the start.

As though Grant felt her eyes on him, his gaze met hers. He looked at her grimly before slowly raising his glass to her, conveying his congratulations. She would be Tristan’s queen after all.

“Rose?” her mother called, pulling her out of the mist and back into the world, looking at her expectantly. “Aren’t you going to go congratulate Tristan?”

Rose forced her dry lips apart, mustering a smile. “Yes, yes, of course,” she said, forcing herself to move. She tucked away her insecurities as she pressed through the cheering crowd.

The moment she locked eyes with Tristan, her worries melted into vapor. Her heart grew lighter, and her smile became genuine.

They’d done it.

They’d really done it.