sad look in his eyes. His hair was waved and shiny. His clothes were beautiful—silk and soft suede.
There was a knock at the door.
“How exciting! They’re here for you,” Talin said. “But your boots are more important than them. They can wait a little.” He disappeared for a few moments before reappearing, carrying a new pair of black leather boots that had a gold trim at the top and round the ankle. They were beautiful too, of course.
Edyon sat and pulled them on as there was another knock on the door. Edyon’s stomach tightened. “You’d better let them in.”
Talin bowed his head and glided to the door. The chimes chinked, and the room seemed to be growing darker. Edyon glanced out of the window—the sky was filling with large, heavy clouds. A summer rainstorm would clear the air, but for the moment it was still hot.
Edyon checked his appearance in the large mirror again. His cream silk shirt was heavily embroidered in gold at the neck and cuffs. His tight jacket was black velvet and suede, with gold beads sewn onto it in a random, scattered design. His trousers were black suede and rather tight without looking absurd. The boots were shiny, soft, and comfortable. Edyon pulled out his gold necklace to hang at the front of his jacket. It was perfect—just the right amount of gold and just the right amount of black.
Talin said, “Prince Thelonius asks that you join him, Your Highness.”
Edyon swallowed and forced a smile. “Yes. Great. Thank you, Talin.”
His servant leaned closer and added quietly, “You look the part. Just believe in yourself, Your Highness. Your father will be proud of you.”
“Thank you, Talin.” Edyon pulled his shoulders back and lifted his chin.
Think like a prince. Act like a prince. Walk like a prince.
He followed the guard of four men out of his quarters and along the wide, marble corridors to the Grand Hall. The dis-tant buzz of conversation grew as he approached. Through the large doorway ahead, Edyon could see his father, and by him, on a table, the crown Edyon would wear.
The crown was a symbol of position and power. The boy who’d not been allowed to study at university because of his birth would wear it. From now on, Edyon would be allowed anywhere.
The trumpets began to sound a fanfare. The guards moved forward and Edyon went with them into the Grand Hall. All eyes turned to him. Edyon’s heart was pounding so loud and hard it seemed to drum through his body in time with the trumpets.
For a moment Edyon thought he saw March at the far side of the room—that same profile and eyes of silver. Edyon strained to look again, but it was a trick of the light. The young lord he’d noticed was nothing like March.
The guard escorted Edyon all the way to Prince Thelo-nius. Edyon bowed to his father and took his place next to him, on his right side. They’d practiced all this the previous day, but then the hall had been empty and now it was full of strangers. Edyon looked out at the faces watching him and recognized only a few of them. He felt more alone than ever. He’d love his mother to be here, and March.
Stop thinking of March. Think of being with your father. Think of being a prince!
Thelonius addressed the room. “We’re here today to make right what should have happened years ago. My son, my firstborn, Edyon, stands with me now, and I couldn’t be prouder. His lineage has been confirmed. His position is clear. He is my only living son. He is my rightful heir. Today he will be crowned and will take the title Prince Edyon, Prince of Abask.”
A table was carried across to Thelonius and Edyon. Ink and quills were brought over on a cushion. The chancellor laid out the parchment, which Edyon had been shown the night before. It was beautifully written in swirling black ink with gold, silver, and red patterning. Edyon glanced through it again to the part where it said “son and heir to Prince Thelonius Melsor.” The prince signed it, and then Edyon signed it with his new name: Edyon Melsor. The chancellor poured out the wax, and Thelonius stamped it.
There was some polite clapping at this point and Edyon looked up. A number of young lords were watching intently, all smiling at him. All hoping for favors, all grateful that his claim to land hadn’t taken anything from them. His