Crown of One Hundred Kings (Nine Kingdoms Trilogy #1) - Rachel Higginson Page 0,73

I ever stepped foot in Elysia it would be as a guest, not as a ruler.”

He nodded. “This is the better option.”

“Correct,” I whispered.

“But you’re not going to take it.” He didn’t ask. I was happy he knew me as well as he did.

“I’ve never wanted to be a royal simply to be royal,” I explained. “This has never been about living comfortably.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed. “But I hope you realize what you’re getting yourself into, Tessana.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning the realm is a mess. You don’t know how the rulers of the kingdoms will feel about you wearing the Crown of Nine. You could start a war. Or several wars. You could be thrown in prison yes, or beheaded or hung or burned at the stake. Exposing your bloodline and your crown is dangerous.”

“I knew that from the second we started out and so did you.”

“But have you truly thought this through? Have you weighed all of the consequences?”

I couldn’t hold his probing gaze, so I stared at the carpet instead. “I’m trying.”

“Well that’s a start.” He jumped to his feet and moved toward the fire. “And what is it that you’re trying to accomplish anyway? I know you want peace for the realm, but what if you bring about the opposite? What if fighting for this crown means death and destruction and more burning villages?”

“No,” I argued. “I will not believe that. It is my bloodline that has been called to the throne. To the crown. To this realm. I cannot explain to you the pull I feel to go home, to fulfill this call of fate. If I cower away for the sake of my own safety that’s when there will be continued death and destruction and burning villages. I know that. I can feel it in my bones.”

Neither of us spoke for a long time. Not until Oliver’s stomach growled louder than the fire behind him.

“Oh, Oliver the Silent,” I laughed. “Let’s go see if you’re going to lose a hand tonight.”

He frowned at me.

“Your bet,” I reminded him. “I take oaths very seriously. If even the meringue is browned unreasonably, I’m going to need you to pay in full.”

“It won’t be,” he said confidently. “Father Diedrick is not in charge.”

Haemon was waiting outside my bedroom door when we stepped into the corridor. He escorted us to the dining room where a table the length of the Temple barn had been set to accommodate us. Everyone rose when the herald announced our presence.

I had never met the princess as she was only six and I had not seen the princes since they were young boys. I couldn’t have identified them by name had I been asked to. They were nearly as tall as Taelon, though still with the gangly limbs of youth. They had all the makings to be as handsome as Taelon and as regal as their father.

Rosabella hopped down from her seat and skipped over to us. Her curtsy was both perfect and adorable and I wanted to steal her away until she could teach me to carry that much grace and poise.

When she lifted herself once more I couldn’t help but smile at her round face and the blonde ringlets framing it. “We are honored to host you this evening, Your Highness.”

I struggled through a curtsy and Oliver had the insight to bend forward in a stilted bow.

“We are honored to be hosted, Your Majesty.” I winked at her as I stood.

She leaned forward and cupped her hand over her mouth. In a poor attempt at a whisper she said, “I’m not a Majesty yet.”

I dropped my voice as well. “Well, I’m not much of a Highness. But I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Her blinding smile made my heart swell. And when she swept her hand toward the table, I decided I needed to keep her. She was just too precious.

“I’m Rosabella,” she declared proudly. “Mama said I could be the one to show you to your places. It’s not proper, you know. But Mama said that you’re not actually a guest.”

“Oh,” I laughed. “Thank you.”

“So you’re not a guest?” Rosabella pressed. “Does that mean you’ve come to live here?”

“Rosabella!” Anatal scolded. “I said you could show them to their seats, not interrogate them.”

The six-year-old’s cheeks turned red and she looked down at her shoes. “Sorry.”

I laughed. It could not be helped. “Don’t be. I’m not offended. But to answer your question, I think your Mama merely meant that I’m more like a friend than a