Page 76 of The Uncrowned Prince

One of Kyrion’s brows tilted. “It seems you have accumulated a great deal of debt for one so young.”

“Wastrel, remember?” Vaniell shrugged, and his lips curved wryly. “It’s part of the job description. And as it happens, I feel that I owe more to Garimore than to you. But once her people are safe, then you may lay claim to whatever is left of me.”

Kyrion nodded. “In that case, Vaniell of Garimore, I accept your offer, and consider all debt between us resolved.”

Was heserious? It felt a little like a kick to the head, but the night elf did not seem to be joking. Vaniell wasn’t even sure the tall and imposing Wyvern Kinghada sense of humor, so this had to be real, and yet…

He’d carried this burden of guilt for so long, it had become a part of his very identity. The north that guided his internal compass. What would he be if he finally chose to give it up?

It was too big of a question for this moment, in this place, and so he set his own turmoil aside as Leisa interrupted.

“Kyrion, I need you to hear this.” She gestured to Karreya. “Begin again.”

Karreya glanced around at each of them in turn, and Senaya took advantage of her hesitation to address both her daughter and her niece.

“There is no going back from this,” she warned. “I chose to involve myself thus far because I believed there was a chance I could still save you. But if you choose this course… The risk is unfathomable. You may never be able to go home again.”

“Acceptance matters less to me than truth, Aunt.” Karreya’s tone was resolute, her head held high, her gaze steady. “Perhaps that is why my father never valued me. But I have finally decided what it is I want for myself, and I will fight for it, even if it appears hopeless. The Enclave would expect no less of me.”

Senaya’s shoulders sagged, and she exhaled a long breath that sounded like helplessness.

Just as Vaniell had done, she’d chosen the life of a fugitive in an attempt to save what she loved, and it had failed her in the end. Perhaps none of them had ever had any choice but to face this fight and spit in the teeth of overwhelming odds.

“But my aunt is correct in most respects,” Karreya noted. “There is great risk in my plan. And much I must tell you.” She turned an odd glance on Vaniell—one that seemed to encompass both pleading and regret. “In order to understand what we must do, you must also understand who my father is and what he hopes to achieve.”

“We are listening.” Leisa stood with her arms folded, her gaze intent and her expression fierce.

“You may choose to believe me or not, but my father’s true goal is neither more nor less than becoming the next emperor of Zulle.”

Her father?Emperor of Zulle? Vaniell had believed the man wanted to form his own Abreian empire, but this news might actually be worse.

“And how would that be possible?” Kyrion’s narrowed eyes suggested that he had already guessed the answer.

“My father,” Karreya said, “is Second Blade.”

“Second Blade?” Leisa echoed. “What does that mean?”

“In Zulle, the heirs to the imperial throne are known as Blades due to the training we receive. All who are in the direct line of succession must enter the Enclave, where imperial assassins are trained.”

We.

Karreya had saidwe.

“My aunt,” she said calmly, “is the eldest daughter of the Queen of the Dragur, Blessed of the Five Gods, Supreme Commander of the Undying Legion, and Divine Lady of the Eternal Sands—Empress Phaedrin Myrna Draguris.”

Empress?Then the family she spoke of was…

“Therefore, Senaya is known as First Blade—the true heir to the imperial throne. My father is second in the line of succession, and even though my grandmother chose not to pass her title to him, he is known as Second Blade.”

“Then you…” The words burst out without Vaniell’s conscious permission. “That makes you…”

“Third Blade,” Karreya finished softly, her eyes on his, the reason for her regret now suddenly clear.

Third in line to the throne of the Zulleri Empire.

He’d thought it difficult enough that he’d fallen for an imperial assassin. Instead, he’d lost his heart to the one woman he could never, ever have.

Even if she were willing. Even if she cared enough to take him as he was, with no power, no crown, no throne. She would never be allowed to stay, and his people would never learn to trust her.

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