Page 16 of The Crown's Awakening
"And what does that mean?"
"For now, very little," he said. "But once the bond is complete, the title becomes King Protectorate."
"And that?"
"King Protectorates deal in matters of war and territory," he said. "Every conflict that threatens the realm passes through us first. Every border, every treaty, every blade raised in anger." A pause. "We do not sit on thrones, Ashen. We decide who does."
"Doesn't he have fourteen children of his own?" I said. "Why give that to you?"
“Seventeen,” he corrects. And he gives it to me because I am stronger than any of them," he said simply. "The Protectorate does not follow the usual succession pattern. It is not inherited.It is earned." A pause. "Moreover, if I secure Veynar, he has a King Protectorate with two kingdoms at his back. He loses nothing. He gains everything."
A pause.
"And you?" I say. "What do you gain?"
He looks at me for a long moment without answering.
"Everything," he says finally. "Or nothing. Depending on what you decide."
CHAPTER 6
The Bastard
Isat there, trying to process everything he had just said. The more I understood, the angrier I felt.
“So your entire reason for keeping me alive was to convince me to come to Alarna?”
He smiled, calm and unbothered. “Essentially, yes.”
“That’s not all of it.”
The ease in his expression thinned. “It’s enough of it.”
I frowned. “How did you even know where I was?”
“The moment rumors began circulating about Veynar’s princess with golden eyes and the Mark of Forizan, it was clear it was probably you,” he said. “That, combined with what I already knew of your family. Uralish isn’t easy to forget.”
I frowned. “Who is Uralish?”
Something like a smile touched his mouth. “Your uncle. Your mother’s twin.”
I drew in a slow breath, forcing the reaction down before it could show. “Why were you there the night of the tavern massacre?” I asked.
“I had already been moving through Rathmor by then,” he said. “I knew you were planning to sneak out. It wasn’t difficult to follow you.”
I closed my eyes, trying to stay calm.
“Were the Threns who massacred the tavern sent by your uncle?”
“No,” he said easily. “I have a cousin. My uncle’s son, Prince Avaneer. He tends toward cruelty when he’s bored.”
Something in my chest tightened.
“His father sent him to Veynar before me,” Teorin continued. “To locate something we’re looking for.”
“What are you looking for?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Something Sevrin has. I need it. It has nothing to do with you.”
