A meeting of the regents was in full progress when Conner breathlessly entered the throne room. He was the only one who had come in late, and his arrival caused an unwelcome disruption.
“If there were any occasion for you to arrive on time, Lord Conner, this would have been it.” The man who spoke was Joth Kerwyn, high chamberlain to King Eckbert. He was almost as much a part of the castle as the bricks and mortar, having served the king for his entire life. He wasn’t a large or powerfully built man. Quite the opposite, in fact, and yet he could command a room of a thousand with just the wave of his hand. There was no one who had been more loyal to King Eckbert and few who had ever loved Carthya so much. The lines on his aging face told the story of years of worry and the weight of counseling royalty on their most difficult decisions. Now he was facing the greatest task of his career: peaceably finding a new king for Carthya. Because if civil war broke out amongst the different factions vying for the throne, Carthya’s enemies would use the opportunity to advance on the country and destroy it.
Conner gave a polite bow to Kerwyn. “My lord High Chamberlain, I had trouble getting here. Forgive me, please.”
There were nineteen other regents in the room, seated according to their rank at a long rectangular table. Conner’s place was near the end, but he hoped that by the close of the evening, he would replace Veldergrath at the head of the table. This was a vain and largely useless group, few who had ever worked a real day in their lives. Even if they knew of the risk and expense Conner had undergone to bring a prince to the throne, they would never appreciate the valiancy of his efforts. Conner had accepted that it was his role to save Carthya. But this collection of stiff-necked, silk-wrapped snobs would never understand that.
“You may take your seat,” Kerwyn said. “I have already made the announcement formally declaring King Eckbert and his queen and son to be dead. In only moments, the death bell will toll, one round for each royal.”
Almost immediately, the bells sounded throughout the castle. Their ring would carry beyond the outskirts of the capital city and would signal to the commoners that a royal had died. Three patterns of the bells would confirm the rumors were true. The entire royal family was gone.
When the bells fell silent, Kerwyn continued, “Lords Mead, Beckett, and Hentower, who traveled to Isel this past week, have confirmed for us that Prince Jaron must have died in the pirate attack four years ago. Therefore, we are left with no alternative, but to —”
“There is something more to that story.” Conner’s words were smug and tilted toward the self-righteous. This was a speech he had practiced so often in his head that he could repeat it in his sleep. “May I speak, Lord Kerwyn?”
Kerwyn nodded permission at him, and Conner stood. “With deference to my fellow regents who searched for proof of Jaron’s death this past week, they are wrong. Prince Jaron survived the pirate attack four years ago. He still lives. He is the rightful heir to the throne and should be crowned this night the king of Carthya.”
Veldergrath stood, pointing a long finger at Conner. “Then I was right! You did have him hidden at your home.”
“Only for his protection, Lord Veldergrath, until now. Surely, you can see how his being alive may threaten anyone else who hoped to become king tonight.”
“Is that an accusation?” Veldergrath began hurling obscenities at Conner. The two regents on either side of him held him back, and other regents around the table murmured loudly to one another.
Finally, Kerwyn stepped forward. “So where is this prince of yours, Lord Conner?”
“He’s coming. As I said before, we had trouble getting here.”
“Naturally, you did. I’m told there were several Prince Jarons who had trouble getting here.”
Conner spoke above the chuckles of his peers. “They didn’t let anyone through at the gate. No doubt the prince will punish the guards there for failing to recognize him.”
“If he were the prince, he would have known how to get through. The royals always know how to get through.”
“He must have forgotten.” Conner’s face paled, and he held on to the table for support. “But Prince Jaron will be here. Then you’ll see.”
Hearing footsteps in the hallway, he turned to the doors of the throne room expectantly. Almost as if on cue, someone did enter. But it was not who he hoped to see.
“Mott?” Conner said.
“Only regents are allowed in this meeting,” Veldergrath said. “You may wait with the other guests and nobles in the great hall. That’s where the new king will greet his people.”
But Mott seemed to see only Conner in the room. “He isn’t here? He came through the kitchen a long time ago.”
“Perhaps your false prince is lost in the castle,” another regent said, to laughter in the room.
“He grew up here. Of course he’s not lost.” It was an attempt at confidence, but desperation cut too clearly through Conner’s words.
“I propose we continue this meeting.” Veldergrath waited until all eyes were on him and then added, “We must not keep the people waiting. And I’m sure whoever is chosen as king will want to speak to Lord Conner on the subject of treason.”
Then something must have happened in the adjoining room, the great hall where hundreds of citizens had gathered to wait for the announcement of the new king. What had been a steady hum of conversation suddenly fell completely silent.
Behind Mott, a castle servant burst through the doors. “Forgive me, regents,” he said, forgetting the customary bow of his head. “But you should all come into the great hall. As quickly as possible.”
Although they were twenty men and women of great status and power, well trained in decorum and manners, no one would have known it by the way they hurried from the throne room. The only one who did not push his way out was Kerwyn, who slid through a secret door between the throne room and the great hall. He was the first to see what had caused the entire crowd in the great hall to fall silent.
For Prince Jaron was standing at the head of the room.
