Page 47 of The Throne Seeker
“And how is that?” Zareb asked.
She bit her cheek. “A power-hungry woman who’d do anything, use anyone, to get what she wants… A throne seeker.”
Another group of courtiers made their way down the corridor, their laughter ringing out, stirring envy in her, catching sight of their carefree smiles.
“What is it you want, then?” Zareb asked once they’d passed.
She’d asked herself that question often. “I simply want to see my mother settled, happy, and cared for. And if it’s not too much to ask, I’d also like to marry the man I love and have my own family.”
Zareb nodded slowly. “So why have you been training? What is it you hope to gain?”
She recalled a promise made long ago. “I suppose I just want to be able to take care of myself, too.”
Silence settled over them as Zareb considered her words. After a moment, he nodded, coming to an understanding. “I can see why they are frightened of you.”
Her face contorted. “Frightened? Who?”
“The council, the court, the queen. Everyone,” Zareb listed.
She gaped at him like he had grown two heads. “Why should anyone in this castle be afraid ofme?”
Zareb looked her dead in the eye and said something she wouldn’t soon forget. “Because I happen to know the most dangerous woman is one who refuses to rely on anyone’s sword because she wields her own. You underestimate yourself, Rose. You’re a great deal more powerful than you realize.”
CHAPTER 21
That night, Rose found herself immersed in a sea of red and gold. The grand hall’s tables were stuffed to capacity—the sheer numbers forcing everyone into a tight proximity. Five rows of soldiers stood in the back of the room, waiting for the rally to begin.
Zareb was rigid, keeping closer to her than usual, scanning the room while leaving a hand on his sword’s hilt. It would seem he didn’t care for large crowds. They had that in common. Across from them sat her mother, tapping her nails nervously on the table.
Rose had worn a blue dress with bell sleeves, representing the House of Versalles colors, signifying that her loyalties would remain to herself. She was glad, for once, for extra fabric to hide her trembling hands.
Biting her lip, she bounced her foot as she waved a napkin to fan herself, wishing she could have sat by one of the open windows. The lack of circulation only added to her nausea. Her eyes fell to the scroll she held. There was no worse form of torture than public speaking.
Zareb glanced at the scroll. “Do you know what you’ll say?”
She strained to give him a tiny smile. “I have things written down, but I don’t know if any of it is noteworthy.”
Zareb leaned forward. “We have a phrase in Semaria—hearts before arms. Do you understand what that means?”
She thought back to her studies of the southern province. “It means you must capture men’s hearts before you gain their loyalty,” she interpreted. “If you do that, you’ll not only gain bodies for an army, but obtain spirits, which fight stronger, far more powerful than any sword.” Before Zareb could reply, she continued, “And for that matter… it means men do not fight because they believe in you or I, but because we are the representation of what they believe. What better for a leader than to embody those beliefs and encourage them to do the same?”
Zareb’s face morphed into a rare soft expression. “You’d do well in Semaria, Rose.”
Before she could reply, the king and his advisors arrived to relieve her suffering.
The crowd rose together as they took their seats at the front table. Following them were the foreign queen and princess, accompanied by guards in green uniforms.
King Henrik stood tall and spoke with clarity. “It is an honor to have you all present tonight. I thank everyone who has traveled far and wide to support this new succession.” He gestured to the Vertmerian women at the head table. “As you may have noticed, we have Queen Isleen and Princess Satin from the Vertmere province here to witness the challenges and finalize post-war affairs.” Next, the king turned to the soldiers in red and gold uniforms. “To the soldiers who have just returned home from the war, we thank you for your willingness to come and support our succession.”
The room erupted in applause.
“Tonight, we will hear from the nominees to aid the soldiers in deciding who to fight for. If the candidates accept their nomination, they will enter the first challenge and be included in the vote.” The king scanned the crowd, his gaze briefly meeting Rose’s. “Let us begin.”
Tristan, Grant, Dawnton, and Emmett rose from their scattered seats in the crowd and approached the front.
Just as she prepared to join them, her mother grasped her hand.
“Remember, I’ll support you no matter what you decide. Just… make sure it’s for yourself, not me or anyone else.” She squeezed her hand tightly before letting go.
