was quite important in King Tyler’s day.”
“That’s Darren’s father?”
“Yes. In Sephria, the king is called by his family name until he dies, and then he is called by his personal name to distinguish him from the other kings. So, when Darren takes over he will be known as King Octarion, like his uncle and his father before him. But when he passes away, the history books will call him King Darren, so we know him as distinct from the other King Octarions who have gone before.”
“What about the barons and dukes?”
“The dukes are known by their family name in polite company and their personal name in mixed. Barons are usually called by their first names.”
“And what are you?” Taya asked.
“Nothing.” Jeremy laughed. “Well, a lord. My father is baron, and I will be Baron Jeremy when he passes away. The son of a duke is a prince, as is the son of a king. The son of a baron is a lord. And the vassals of barons are knights, and everyone is called sir this and sir that.”
“You said it was personal?”
“Mmm. My father is a vassal of House Badger. They were very close to King Tyler, and yet when his brother and the majority of the dukes turned on him, House Badger was among them. I am ashamed to say it now, but my father followed Duke Olminato into battle. He believed, as a vassal, it was his duty to follow his lord, no matter what the order was.” He paused in the story, a faraway look in his eyes, and seemed to take up the thread with difficulty. “My uncle was a close friend to King Tyler at the time of his death. Blood brothers. It is said that King Tyler knew the usurpation was coming, that he sent Richard away to keep him safe, just as he spirited his son away. Sent him to Sephria on some diplomatic mission. When my uncle learned what had happened in his absence, he marched into the throne room, sword drawn, and demanded that Peter meet him man-to-man, a duel in payment for his blood-brother’s death. Archers shot him from the gallery.”
“I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to bring up such memories,” Taya whispered, and with a soft smile he squeezed her hand.
“I was but a babe in arms. I never knew him.”
“And your father? What did he do?”
Jeremy sighed. “I love my father. But he is not always a man to be admired. He loved his brother, but he was too afraid to do anything to avenge his death. I’ve been told that in his youth he was a genial man, but the one I knew burned with a helpless, bitter anger. I suppose my own anger was bred in the bone, growing up in that house, watching him shriveling under the weight of everything he had not done.”
“Do you think Darren will make a king you can be proud to have put on the throne?” she asked, pitching her voice quietly.
It seemed like he wanted to answer her honestly, wanted to let go for a moment and show his fears, admit the doubts that must have crawled, sometimes, beneath his skin, but he gathered himself and gave her a hollow smile.
“Of course,” he said. “He is the rightful king.”
But Taya wondered if that was enough.
Chapter Fifteen
PRINCESS NICOLA SMOOTHED HER DRESS down with damp palms, willing her heart to beat calmly. She had been sitting in the antechamber for what felt like a lifetime; it had to have been at least a hand—never a good sign. When King Octarion was pleased he admitted his guests promptly, but he used this room as a tool when he was angry. No, she corrected herself, anger is too strong a word. If he was angry, I would already be dead.
Distractedly, she drummed her fingernails against the wooden seat beneath her, and then quickly stopped. Decorum was all she had as armor; she would not let them see it crack. One had to defend oneself somehow.
The door swung open on silent hinges, and a cough from the page startled her. She narrowed her eyes at his impudence and stood in a smooth motion, watching the folds of her dress fall down perfectly around her. Only when the fabric had settled did she follow the young boy, her heels clicking lightly against the stone floors. He led her through a long stone passage and then through another door, into the king’s private audience chamber. It was a