Valet smiles. “The first Crown.”
We continue walking as I try to piece together all the information he is throwing at me.
At the end of the hallway another pair of doors. Unlike the others, these are not carved but forged. Black steel reinforced with bronze. The wolf crest dominates the center. Seven smaller crests surround it in a circle.
Two guards step forward simultaneously. Each places a hand against the door. Heavy bolts slide somewhere deep within the stone. The sound reverberates through the walls.
One.
Two.
Three.
Then the doors begin to open. Slowly. The room beyond is circular. My eyes instinctively search for exits, and there are none. There is only one entrance.
One way in.
One way out.
A domed ceiling disappears nearly sixty feet overhead. Constellations have been painted across it in gold leaf. The floor is inlaid with black marble, forming an enormous wolf encircled by seven crowns.
At the center... A round table with seven chairs surrounds it. Each is carved differently. The chair beneath the wolf banner is larger than the others. Its back rises nearly eight feet into the air. Intricate wolves run through the wood. Their eyes are formed from amber. The remaining six chairs face it equally.
“What is this?”
Valet circles the table slowly. “The Council Chamber.”
My eyes remain fixed on the empty chair. He follows my gaze. For the first time tonight, his composure slips.
Pride.
Sadness.
Hope.
All expressions cross his face at once.
“That”—his voice lowers—“has been yours since the day you were born.”
I look at the chair, then back at him. “I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
He walks toward one wall where portraits hang instead of banners. Seven portraits. Each depicts a man or woman seated in one of the seven chairs. Every generation and century. My eyes stop at the final portrait, which is unfinished.
Only six figures have been painted. The seventh chair...is empty.
“For eighteen years,” Valet says quietly. “Our painters refused to complete it.”
“Why?”
“Because no one else could sit there.”
The answer hangs in the air.
“The Crown Families have rules.”
He begins walking around the table. “Blood cannot be replaced, and the firstborn inherits.”
