Page 1 of The Throne Seeker
PART I
THE RETURN
CHAPTER 1
Rose gazed out the carriage window at a terrain as old and ancient as the dawn of the first sun. The land had been forged eons ago by the elements of fire, sand, and sea, maintained and preserved by a powerful family who once rode dragons like horses, coexisting amid a flourishing wealth of magic and creatures long since forgotten.
Little proof of the remnants of that world remained, and Rose wasn’t sure if that was the truth. How could anyone be so sure of history, so often biased to the schemes and ambitions of men. But it was what the archives and books claimed—books that worshiped the sun. The very sun that now streamed upon her olive skin through pure crystal glass.
“Rosalie Versalles,” her mother scolded across the carriage. “Please sit up. I don’t want your dress soiled before we arrive.” Leaning forward with a huff, her mother adjusted Rose’s floor-length skirt to prevent it from grazing the speck of dirt on the carriage floor.
Rose straightened her back and shoulders, tearing her gaze from the window, unaware of her lack of posture. “Sorry, Mum.” She fiddled with her fingers. “It’s just hard to believe we’re finally back… It’s like a dream.”
Her mother’s mouth lifted into a plotting smile. “If we play our cards right, it may be our permanent home.”
Home.
She peered back through the window, past the dirt road to the distant trees that stood centuries before human feet hit the soil—woods she’d played in as a child every summer since she was eight.
She’d always known her mother’s aspirations for her life emphasized more of a material value than sentimental. Though her mother meant well, Rose wasn’t blind. She was aware she’d plotted this arrangement since she was born, brought to the castle every summer to gain the favor of Henrik and, more importantly, one of his sons.
Her mother leaned back into her seat. “I do wish you’d take time for Xavier. You two used to be so close.”
Xavier. That was a name she hadn’t heard since…
She focused on familiar distant trees, her face void of emotion as she said, “I believe Xavier is fully content with himself for company these days.”
Without warning, the carriage swayed, forcing them to brace themselves. The driver, bless his soul, earned a good scolding from her mother. She would’ve preferred arriving on horseback if her mother had allowed it.
Fat chance of that.
A brief silence settled between them as her mother observed her before continuing as if the conversation hadn’t been interrupted. “Perhaps you’re still more keen for Tristan?”
Rose’s cheeks warmed, her eyes snapping to her mother.
Her mother gave her a knowing look. “We must be careful of our steps, Rose. Everything we’ve striven for comes to fruition tonight. This year, you’ll need to either take a husband or find one elsewhere, Tristan or not.”
Rose withheld a glare. She knew what was at stake. She could fall off her horse, hit her head, suffer a major concussion, and it would still be the first thing she thought of when she woke. Charged to bear the weight of her father’s transgressions, she must put rumors to rest, and regain their family’s good name.
She opted to stay silent, shadows running across her face. She’d need every personal reserve of energy she had for tonight. She’d learned long ago to choose her battles with her mother; this was not one of them.
“Ah! Finally, there it is! A year later, and this carriage ride still gives me a migraine,” her mother added with a mumbled complaint.
Rose scooted to the window, ignoring her mother’s scoldings. Her gaze lifted past the hills, over the outer wall, and landed on the towering structure rooted on the largest mound.
The enormous seaside castle had not gotten any less grand in their absence. Its fortified walls and bridges were made up of thousands upon thousands of splendid hand-carved stones. The high peaks held Cathan’s gold and red banners that waved proudly in the breeze, surrounded by acres and acres of gorgeous, well-manicured grounds. The distant gardens were packed to the brim, bursting with color. To the west, the grounds sloped down gradually to meet the pearl granules framing the Meridian Sea. Nothing but a sapphire horizon lay beyond.
Rose raised her fingers to the warm window with reverence, her breath fogging the glass. The butterflies in her stomach multiplied as several imaginary scenarios surfaced, threatening to drag her into a hole that might not even exist.
Her anxious thoughts didn’t have the chance to escalate as the carriage approached the outer wall, its lofty solid-iron gates built as the castle’s first line of defense.
“His Majesty’s friend, Lady Evelyn, and her daughter, Lady Rosalie,” their driver announced from the coach to the guards above.
It took but a moment for the gate to unlock. A great many clicks followed as the door creaked open before their carriage continued down the dirt path to the front courtyard. The overflowing flower beds were scattered about, their green leaves and hedges all neatly trimmed and aligned—thriving, no doubt, from the queen’s attention.
Just ahead, familiar doors of iron waited for them.
“Keep your head held high. I want you on your best behavior tonight,” her mother reminded her.
