“Get to the ballroom!” a guard shouted as he hurried past us. “There’s a situation.”
Thankful for the distraction, I blew out a breath and opened the door. “I can find my way back. I’ll only be a minute.”
She glanced between me and the corridor, torn between the two choices. Luckily, she took her order and left me behind.
7
RYDER
My father shifted in his bed, and my stomach sank the moment his eyes opened. I had hoped he would stay sleeping until my mother returned, giving me the opportunity to leave without actually having to speak with him. As always, reality stole my budding hope.
“What have you done with yourself today?” My father made no attempt to sit up. “Anything to be proud of, or shall I assume the usual?”
“I …” My words faltered. “I’ve been busy with internal affairs and preparations for tonight’s ball.” I leaned forward in my seat and rested my elbows on my knees.
Though his eyes were barely open, he inspected my attire. Following the royal tradition, all of my clothes were white—bright and pristine. The only color was the gold crown seated upon my head and a fitted aquamarine waistcoat. His eyes lingered. I looked down to confirm everything was still perfect, without a single frayed thread or speck of dust.
“I see.” His words were brash. “Have you found anyone of interest, or shall I surmise your sister will rule?”
The blood in my veins heated at his threat. Leanna wasn’t the firstborn, and if he passed me over, it would only fuel the rumors running rampant throughout our kingdom.
“There’s no need for her to step in.” I stared up at the ceiling and admired the ornate molding. “There are several women I’m interested in.”
“Several?” my father shouted. “That will not bring you the magic required to rule this kingdom! Had your promiscuous behavior not consumed your youth, you wouldn’t have found yourself in this situation! Your sister married young, and if you had half a brain, you would have as well!”
“There’s no need to shout,” my mother interjected as she entered the room. “No reason to get yourself worked up. Ryder is?—”
“Quiet yourself and sit down!” my father ordered. “This doesn’t concern you.”
“It certainly does,” she snapped, and took her post in the chair beside his bed. “He will find a wife. Your threats are unnecessary.”
My mother had become more vocal since he’d fallen ill, but especially so since he’d become bedbound. There was no longer a threat of him striking her, though he did occasionally catapult items her way. Perhaps my mother being the constant at his side increased his tolerance of her biting words.
“What have you done regarding Rivale’s oil supply?” His tone shifted from my father to King Sutton in an instant.
“I sent word a couple of days ago and am waiting for King Grave’s arrival.” My fingers thrummed against the arm of the chair. I wouldn’t admit that I had sent the request the week prior and still hadn’t received a response.
I’d been obsessed with the content of the missive ever since it had left my hands. Perhaps the urgency wasn’t as clear as it should’ve been—maybe I should have reiterated that I was serving as the leader of Rivale. Though all seven kingdoms inCrofea were notified when my father fell ill, Grave never acknowledged the announcement of my new role.
Kuroden, lying in the northernmost region of Crofea, was a two-day flight from Rivale, lying here in the south. Grave should have already arrived if he received and accepted the missive. Perhaps the note was lost in transport, or perhaps he had received the message and simply disregarded the request.
“You will get him to increase the supply,” King Sutton demanded.
I nodded, knowing how dependent our kingdom had become on Kuroden's oil. We’d found more uses for the crude, which improved our lives, but also increased the rate at which we used it. With our reserves nearly depleted, the amount agreed upon in the treaty wouldn’t sustain us much longer. Renegotiations would pick up soon, but reaching an agreement could take months.
“Yes, I’ll get him to increase the volume by any means necessary.” I looked at my mother, who watched intently. She was always so protective of me. Ever since we learned I’d inherited her magic, and not the Divine magic from my father, she’d kept a close eye. According to my father, the discovery made me both a liability and a constant disappointment.
“Good,” he grumbled as he reached a shaking hand toward a cup on the side table.
“I should go.” I stood and fastened the gold buttons of my white tailcoat. “I’m already late.”
My father huffed a breath. “A prince is never late, everyone else is only early.”
“Good luck, Son,” my mother called.
“The boy doesn’t need luck,” my father admonished. “He’s a Sutton.”
Flanked by guards Fisher and Hunt, we hurried down the corridor. Fisher was assigned to me a year ago, while Hunt had just come into the position. Hunt worked his way up fromstreet patrol after proving himself a fierce advocate in demolishing the resistance.
