Page 1 of The Crownless Prince

Prologue

In the fading light, the looming stone tower cast a long shadow, as if trying to swallow up the small procession moving toward it. The flickering orange glow of the torches offered no comfort.

Prince Marcus eyed the few, recently barred windows in the square tower. He hadn’t thought his father so serious about his threat. Realizing how easily his father, the current ruler of Alimer Principality, would imprison his youngest son, and at only seventeen, only made him respect the man less.

Their procession reached the tower, and a stone-faced guardsman opened the door.

“Marcus.”

He turned to face his father, his teeth clenching. Torchlight gleamed on the thin gold crown resting on Prince Arlius’s dark hair and cast the angles of his face in harsh contrast.

“This is your final chance. Repent and accept the marriage I’ve arranged for you.”

Even if things were different, Marcus had no desire for a loveless marriage designed to secure a military alliance. He would not aid his father in plotting against the other two sovereign Aedyllanian principalities and hastening war. The union his father wanted symbolizedthe opposite of the dream he shared with Adriana—of a peaceful Aedyllan without all of this vying for power.

Tipping up his chin, he looked his father in the eyes. “I love Princess Adriana Faine. I gave her my vow. I will marry her and none other.”

His father’s expression contorted. “Idiotic fool of a disloyal son! Let’s see if a few years of seclusion will teach you respect and understanding of your allegiances! Enter the tower.”

Marcus glanced at the guards surrounding them, then his gaze fell on Edwin, whose head was bowed to avoid drawing attention to himself. He turned back to his father. “I ask you again to reconsider Edwin’s—”

“This ungrateful dog lied for you, covered for you, and assisted you in defying me,” his father bellowed. “Would you rather I have him executed for treason?”

Marcus took a step back, toward the tower, his stomach dropping. Surely he wouldn’t…would he? “No, Father.”

“If they won’t enter, force them in.”

At the regnant prince’s order, a couple of guards stepped toward them. Marcus grabbed Edwin’s sleeve and dragged his servant-guard into the tower after him. The door slammed shut, plunging them into darkness, and a lock clicked.

His father’s command came muffled through the thick wood. “Plaster over the door!”

Marcus swallowed. The craftsmen his father had brought along would close up the only door into the tower, and then his father would impress his seal into the drying plaster, so no Alimer subject woulddare to break it. The other principalities would not challenge that seal within Alimer territory, either, so even Adriana’s father, Prince Mortimer, couldn’t help Marcus if he wanted to.

How could they escape? The door was thick, and the plaster would be, too. The stone walls were even thicker. Would the bars in the windows prove an easier obstacle? The biggest challenge would be going unnoticed, so their progress wasn’t thwarted. Perhaps they could tear up the floorboards and dig their way out.

A small part of him still hoped this was a ruse. Surely when his father realized how serious Marcus was, he would relent. The door would be opened, and his father would say, “You truly are a man of your word. I cannot punish you for that.”

Instead, scraping sounded on the outside of the door.

“I’ll look for a light, my lord,” Edwin murmured. His footsteps moved away, further into the dark tower, but Marcus stood rooted in place, listening to the sound of his freedom ending.

Was his father watching impassively? Did he care at all that he was losing his youngest son? Would he really leave Marcus there for seven years? They’d never been close, as Marcus didn’t share his father’s aggressive nature and would rather wait for peaceable solutions to disagreements. Still, his father’s callous treatment cut him deeply.

Then there were his two elder brothers. Neither had accompanied them, and both had called him foolish in the past. Did they agree with their father that seven years of isolation was what he deserved for not supporting their father’s kingship aspirations?

A curse upon the last king of Aedyllan, who had died nearly acentury prior without heirs. In hisinfinitewisdom, King Vithmir had thought appointing his three most trusted friends as equal princes would prevent a power struggle. Now those princes’ great-great-grandsons did little but argue and were all eyeing the title ofking.And Marcus, for daring to believe the principalities could continue to coexist and having the audacity to fall in love with the daughter of a man his father considered a rival, was being punished for a long-dead king’s lack of foresight.

The minutes dragged by. Edwin returned with candles and left one on the floor when Marcus made no move to take it. Cold seeped into his fingers and toes, the winter chill not yet fully driven away by the emergence of spring. Still he stood, unmoving.

Eventually, the scraping stopped. Voices said something he couldn’t make out.

Then his father’s authoritative voice. “I seal this tower with my mark and a fae curse.”

Marcus jolted.

“This tower will be impervious to harm, unable to be broken into or out of, until I order it opened, or I perish.”

Marcus staggered back. His father was so angry he’d risked seeking aid from the dangerous fae to keep Marcus incarcerated?

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