Page 14 of The Heir's Bargain

My fear of the crown was rather a result of how the title changed my mother when she was in the public eye. Her chin rose an inch higher, her posture straightened and grew more rigid, and the humor left her lips.

When the time came, I knew I would settle down, but now was not that time. Life was fleeting, and our youth even more so.

We only had our youth for so long before it was stripped away from us once our freedom was taken away by age and responsibility.

Finding my soul bond aside, marrying meant I was one step closer to acquiring the full responsibility of the crown. When I was crowned, where would that leave the woman beside me?

The heir or not, the king's crown was not on my head yet, however.

So, I put one foot in front of the other as my mother held onto my arm.

She was right. We would cherish this moment while we still had it.

As I looked out toward the crowd, the sun's rays that poured in from the window warmed my back. The fur-lined robe was too heavy for the early spring heat. But it was tradition, so I kept my chin high and eyes cast on the crowd before me.

Soon, however, my attention flicked to my shadow, large and looming as it stretched down the center of the aisle.

Would I be able to fill the shoes of the kings and queens before me? Of my father? Of my mother? Or would my shadow swallow me whole?

I wasn't sure of the answer.

Neither were the people in the crowd whose thoughts slithered around the edge of my mind.

Since only a select few people were granted clearance about abilities like mine, most of the minds in the room were wide open. While my hangover was long gone, my ability to shut the unwanted thoughts out was dismal at best. Their thoughts came at me like a storm at sea, loud and consuming.

He may look like his father, but he sure doesn't act like it.

A kind boy but a spoiled one.

My choice would have been the other twin. He’s quiet and moldable. What was his name again?

Long live the queen.

My fingers twitched at my side as each thought rolled into my mind, each a wave I couldn't prevent from smacking into the shore.

Despite the thoughts, when my mother stepped forward, I kneeled before the subjects of Pontia. Dropping my gaze to the silver runner covering the stone floors, I tried to cut the threads leading to the unwelcome yet persistent thoughts.

With my gaze diverted, the voices quieted.

Marginally.

In this large of a crowd, there was still a rush of noise, as if I was standing behind a waterfall. I slowed my breathing and focused on shutting out the thoughts. The silence of the room was an incessant buzz in my ears and only allowed the thoughts to seep through. I might have been skilled at breaking down the barriers of strangers and leaders, but I had little control over my own mind.

Silence, I found, was not a comfort but a nuisance, only leaving more room for the spiraling thoughts to take over.

It's only a crown, I told myself as my mother lifted the piece of metal over my head.

One breath in; one breath out.

The crown sunk into my hair, the metal digging into my skull as if it meant to stay there.

With one light brush of my shoulder, my mother stepped back.

I rose, my legs heavier and my body stiffer than it had been moments before as I lifted my head.

"Please rise for the Crown Prince of Pontia, Heir to the Throne: Fynneares Andros Nadarean, first of his name, son to Queen Esmeray Ledia Starling Nadarean and the late King Marc Lorin Nadarean."

My gaze swept across the room, and a thousand faces stared back at me, standing, shuffling on their feet. I quickly grabbed for the familiar threads, the ones that were warm and felt like home, before the torrent of thoughts rushed over me again.

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