I snorted.That was my father.Drop two bombshells on us then kick us out.No discussion.No sympathy.Nothing.
Zandyr stood abruptly, the book he’d been reading tucked securely under his arm.Ezrielle gave me a sweet smile as she rose from her seat, but I detected the deadly poison within the curve of her lips.I threw her a sly smile of my own as I left the room.
My father wasn’t thinking logically.Even if most of them were more connected to their spouses’ kingdoms, my married siblings would be a far better gamble for the throne than Zandyr or Ezrielle.Neither one of them could be allowed to reign.Not if Paravellia wanted to prosper long enough to see the next descendant crowned.
Which means you would have to reign instead.
My steps slowed, the idea infiltrating my mind.
Me.
King Valeris of Paravellia.
Seventh in line for the throne had left me powerless, but if I became king, maybe I would have more control over my own future.Do what I wanted—not what was expected of me as my father’s pawn.Maybe this was an opportunity for me to make my own destiny.To do something good for the kingdom of Paravellia.
I grinned.
Winning would be beyond easy.It wouldn’t be difficult to outmaneuver my two siblings.
I returned to my uncle’s study, joining him by the window.
He raised a questioning eyebrow.“What was that about?”
My smile grew wider.Maybe my father had planned it this way because he knew I would win.If he’d simply handed the throne directly to me, Zandyr and Ezrielle would have called for retribution, possibly even considered assassination out of spite.Especially Ezrielle.But by making it a level playing field with a competition...they couldn’t argue with that.Two months ago I had prevented a war with Andovar over a trade tax, and last year I had eased border tensions with Dervonne by paying them a visit and using only flattery as a weapon.No one was as calculating as I, and my siblings all knew it.They knew they couldn’t beat me.Zandyr couldn’t make a proper argument to save his life; he always let his temper get the best of him.And while Ezrielle was conniving, her precarious method of making alliances was to simply sleep her way through the court.
I laughed and looked up at my uncle.“Haven’t you heard the news?I’m going to be the next king of Paravellia.”
Chapter Three
Analleia
Carriages choked thestreets of Paravellia like smoke, making it impossible to breathe or move.I gripped the window of our black carriage as we lurched to a stop for the hundredth time, our driver once again barely preventing a crash with another carriage.I ground my teeth together, fists clenching in frustration.Two days of torrential rain we hadn’t planned on had muddied the roads and delayed our arrival to the capital city by four days.Fourcrucialdays that would have prevented us from getting stuck in this bustling mess.
“Remind me why we had to trade our horses for a carriage again?”Nadiyah asked.Her dark skin pulled taut across her face as she grimaced, irritation and fear filling her brown eyes.Sweat glistened on the back of her neck, her thick black hair piled atop her head.She would be hanging halfway out of the coach right now if not for the risk of getting skewered by the carriages passing less than a hairsbreadth away from ours.Her fingers dug into Desmond’s arm in a death grip, her fear of tight spaces and confinement scrawled all over her face.
“Arriving on horseback would create unnecessary gossip,” I said.“Our horses will be delivered to the livery tomorrow in the event we need them.”
