Page 84 of The Uncrowned Prince

For the first time, Faraden actually smiled. “Prince Vaniell, I do believe you are not the man you’ve spent much of your life pretending to be.”

For a brief, startling moment, Vaniell found himself at a loss for words. How long had it been since anyone had seen through his facade? And would he regret this choice, or was it past time to say goodbye to the mask he’d worn for so many years?

“Is anyone merely one thing?” he finally answered, with a wry twist to his lips. “But I must warn you not to ascribe to me any particular virtues. I fear I am both better and worse than whatever you might imagine.”

“And what do you intend to do next?”

“For myself?” He had no doubts. There was but one path forward for him. “Whatever happens here today, no matter the outcome of our conversation, I intend to carry on the fight. I will not rest until the man who wears the crown of Garimore is held accountable for his crimes—for his cruelty towards his own people, for the unlawful seizure of lands, the murder of mages, repeated assaults on the sovereignty of Iria, Farhall, and Eddris, and for the crime of taking the life of Queen Portiana to further his own ambitions.”

His voice was shaking now, both with emotion and the strength of his certainty, but he did not care. Let them see that he was the wastrel prince no longer, but the unacknowledged heir to Garimore’s throne, in search of justice for his people.

“I would ask the other Thrones to join me in this, not as subordinates, not merely in support, but as equals, with the goal of ensuring that Abreia will never fall victim to the predatory ambition of one man, but will remain an equal coalition of five independent kingdoms, where all of our people can live without fear of prejudice.”

“A worthy aspiration,” Faraden noted. “And do your allies share this vision for the future?”

“We do.” Leisa stepped up to stand beside him. “The Thrones of Eddris and Farhall are united in this purpose, and as an ally of Farhall, the Kingdom of Dunmaren stands ready to assist her in time of war.”

“Well then.” Faraden surveyed them all before turning to Prince Torevan. “Your Highness, what are your wishes in this matter?”

The boy stood straight and tall, his eyes wide, but his courage never wavering.

“Convince us,” he said, his youthful gaze intent on Vaniell. “I would know the truth behind my parents’ deaths. And if it is indeed the work of Garimore, we will stand beside you and seek justice.”

It was a beginning, Vaniell told himself. There was still much to be done. Many truths to be revealed and complexities to be navigated—not the least of which would be explaining the Garimoran king’s true identity. But for the first time since he set out along this road, he felt as if there was some small piece of hope that the other Thrones would not fall to the ambition of the man who called himself Melger.

Who was also…

Karreya’s father.

Despite the gravity of the moment, he turned to her and caught her eye. It could not be easy to stand here and listen to them speaking of joining hands to bring down the man she had come so far to find.

Could not be easy to stand in a room full of people who would consider her an enemy if they knew.

But not him. Never him.

If fate had been kinder…

Had she not been heir to the imperial throne…

Had her father never conceived this diabolical plan to win the empress’s favor…

But without those events, he would never have met Karreya. Never have been challenged by her, or forced by her courage to confront his own cowardice. He would never have realized what his own people meant to him, or what he was willing to do to protect them.

Without her…

Was the last thing he wanted to be, and yet, he knew she could never stay. He had set his feet on this path knowing it would cost him, and this was to be the highest price—even if Karreya wanted him as he did her, even if by some miracle a woman like her might actually care for him, an imperial assassin could never be Queen of Garimore, any more than the heir to the Zulleri Empire would settle for an Abreian prince.

And so he smiled while his heart broke, reminding himself that this was a day for hope and celebration.

No matter what grief awaited him along this road, Karreya had taught him how to hope and given him the courage to reclaim his future.

And come what may, he would give everything in his power to do the same for her in return.

EPILOGUE

The massive chamber had fallen largely into darkness. As a storm raged beyond the red stone walls, battering the towers and howling around the battlements, only a handful of golden torches brightened the imposing space. Even the firelight seemed to huddle in on itself, afraid to touch what awaited in the darkest corners or rise to kiss the relief-carved ceiling.

But even as the shadows flickered and the torches burned lower, the room’s living occupants did not seem to move. Not even the woman at the head of the room—a once tall and commanding presence, whose shrunken form was now seated on the room’s sole piece of furniture.

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