Not even close?
What else could they possibly want from me? Was being torn from everything I wanted not enough? Was marrying someone I didn't want not enough?
"Arlen can no longer be the heir," my father said.
I opened my mouth, then closed it, because I didn't know what to say.
Was it the legs?
I dismissed the thought as fast as it came. A king ruled with his mind, his name, and his bearing. Appearances mattered, I wasn't naive enough to believe otherwise, but it wouldn't be the first time a monarch suffered from a handicap. King Rvos the Sixth of Arudon had been blind in one eye and wore a patch. But then he'd lost that eye in battle, so that was honorable. The samewas true for King Namron the Third of Penvasita, who had lost a leg after a wound had gotten infected. That was another war injury.
But then Arlen lost the use of his legs protecting our father. That was also a heroic act. The problem was that no one knew about it, because my father kept it a secret.
Another thing that could disqualify an heir was the inability to sire heirs of his own, but my father had just told me that Arlen could still father children.
"Why?" I asked. "I understand wanting to hide how close the assassin came. But is that reason enough to strip Arlen of the succession?"
My father shook his head. "The scars can be covered by a shirt, and he can be seated during functions, which was what we have done on a few occasions just so people could see him. The problem is that he's not Arlen anymore. He's no longer the confident man with the firm handshake and confident smile, the man who people could see as their future king. Now he flinches at a slammed door and gets short of breath when a maid drops a plate. The hearing loss is temporary, but it's an impediment that is difficult to hide for now. That's why we are limiting his appearances to the absolute minimum, which is also noticed. We have no choice but to announce that he's abdicated and name a new heir."
"Who?" I asked, even though I had a sinking suspicion that their choice was the least reasonable one.
"You," my mother said simply, and reached across the table for my hand. "Elurion must have guided your father and me when we named you. It was fated that you would be the next King of Catonia."
I just stared at her for a long moment. "I'm the fifth," I finally said. "There are three who come before me."
"None of them will do," my father said.
I turned to him. "Why not?"
He chuckled, and immediately regretted it, one hand going to his side. "Neither of the twins is suited for the position. Aric and Aden don't want the responsibility, and between us, I do not believe they could carry it even if they did. They are charming and clever, but they don't have what it takes to lead and make hard decisions when needed. And Avren." He shook his head. "Avren is a soldier to the marrow. He will be a magnificent general one day, and he will lead the Federation's armies, but a general is not a diplomat." His gaze settled on me. "That leaves you. You are the only one who can take Arlen's place, and you know it."
I hated that he was right. There was no crack in the logic to pry at. The twins were exactly as he described them, Avren was a blade that didn't belong at a negotiating table, and even though I hadn't been shadowing my father the way Arlen had, I was still more politically savvy than my other brothers.
I didn't want to be king.
That was the whole of my objection. I wanted to go back to Elucia. I wanted to stand on the cold roof of the Citadel and gaze upon the grandeur of the Elucian Mountains. I wanted Kailin's hand in mine and Veynathei's voice in my mind, and a life measured in flights instead of treaties.
"Will you keep your immortality," my mother asked, watching my face, "so far from your dragon?"
"I don't know." It was the honest answer, and it frightened me to say it aloud. "No bonded rider has ever been separated from their dragon by such distance. The bond is sacred. It is not meant to be stretched across a continent." I drew a breath. "I have to go back. For that reason among many others."
What I didn't say was that I wasn't yet immortal. The bond was too new. I felt stronger than I had ever been, faster, my senses sharper, but I had no illusions that I would have faredbetter than Arlen against that grenade or healed from it any faster than he was healing. Immortality came with time and proximity and the steady infusion of a dragon's strength, and I hadn't been given enough time for the change to take root.
And then there was Kailin. I had promised to write to her every day in the cipher Codric and I had invented as boys, but I hadn't been as diligent as I'd intended to be, not from laziness or lack of care but because each sentence committed to paper felt like another cut, another wound.
If they made me the heir apparent, I wouldn't be able to return to her.
I wouldn't be able to bring her to me either.
A prince, and especially the heir apparent, didn't get to choose his bride.
My father sighed, and for a moment, the king receded and only the tired man remained. "I know your heart is in Elucia, Alar. I'm not blind to what this costs you. But you are a prince of Catonia, and a prince can't allow his heart to lead him. Your duty is to your people before it is to yourself." He paused. "We will name you heir apparent at this year's annual ball."
I could barely breathe.
"When is it?" I asked quietly, because I didn't have enough air in my lungs to be loud.
"The same as every year. Six weeks and two days from now."
