“We should go inside,” I say, but Ptaris shakes his head.
“No. It is best we do this now. Here.”
And then I realize his words. Or rather, one word: rejection.
“How do you know I was rejected?” I ask.
Ptaris purses his lips. “Had Wyatt accepted the offer, your father was to leave you in his presence, of course.”
My eyes widen as I was certainly not prepared to beleft.My father made no point to specify this. He’d onlysaid we were going to present me, toofferme to the prince and that in accepting I would be doing my kingdom and his a most honorable thing.
“My father did not?—”
“I know. He didn’t want to burden you with could be’s when there was still much left up in the air. He didn’t want to worry you or put more pressure on your shoulders.”
Ptaris reaches out, rubbing my shoulder softly. The motion, the touch, is more loving than it should be, all things considered. Ptaris touches me with reverence, like I am his, too.
Like I belong to him as much as I belonged to my father, the king.
“As you know, you can not assume the throne unless you have bitten and bound a mate and ascended into your power.”
I nod, understanding dawning on me. Yes, my father is dead, and his throne now empty. And I am unbound, untethered. Suddenly the depth of Wyatt’s rejection hits me sharper than a knife. For he did not just reject me, he prevented me from taking the throne. And now my father is dead and?—
“Ptaris, what…what are you saying? What will happen now that my father is?—”
Ptaris’s eyes fill with tears once more.
“Rest assured, sweetheart, I will do my best to rule in his absence while you are at the academy.”
Academy? What bloody academy is he talking about?
“I don’t understand,” I say as I motion to movearound him and head to the gates. But he stops me, blocking me. Trepidation festers in my blood as the storm clouds move in, the thunder getting louder. Closer.
Ptaris licks his lips, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Your father refused to prepare for rejection, but I did not,” he says sternly.
“There is an academy. R.I.S.E. Academy. It is designed for those who have been rejected,” he says carefully, the sadness in his voice evident.
“An academy for… the rejected…” I try to understand, but the words are like gibberish to me.
“What does this have to do with me? And Wyatt and my father’s?—”
“You must find a mate to claim and bond, Ivy. Your birthday is in three months, and if you don’t claim a mate, sweetheart, our kingdom—” he cries, “your father’s kingdom will be subject to overthrow. Wyatt Castor will be the first in line to try and conquer it, and if he rejected you, I can only assume he would not be a welcoming host to either of us given the circumstances.”
“But you said…you said you could rule in his absence, you?—”
“Law decrees I am only able to act as a regent until your twenty-first birthday. Which is why it is the utmost importance right now that you find a mate, Ivy.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?” I ask, anger and frustration flooding me.
“How am I to find a mate when the one I was destined forrejected me?”
I hear my voice pitching like the thunder that rolls. Lightning strikes in the distance, and I know the storm is coming.
“That is why you must go to the academy, sweetheart. And you must not return until you have a mate to present to me.”
I move and he blocks me again, grasping my arms. I notice the carriage has not moved.
