prologue
Moonlight streamed in through the tall windows lining the throne room. The king sat regally upon his obsidian throne, a few lit candles keeping his eyes shadowed. Across the elongated room, his eldest son kneeled before his father, his eyes trained on his glistening crown.
“It would seem your brother has taken vast strides toward inheriting the kingdom.” King Darius tapped his ringed fingers upon the arm of his throne. Candlelight sparked off the gaudy gems, casting colored flashes of light across the dim ceiling.
Prince Conan merely smiled. “Miron may believe he can take my place, but I assure you, Father, he is weaker than he lets on.” The prince remained kneeled, but kept his dark eyes intently trained upon the king.
His father’s posture stiffened. “Weak, you say?” The king snarled, “Prince Miron single-handedly removed the Isallan queen from power when she was deemed unfit to rule. Simultaneously, he prevented a marriage alliance from forming between their princess and Prince Jasper of Drancos. Due to his efforts, we remain Isalla’s most powerful ally, and their kingdom is now suited to thrive, leaving Drancos dependent on their own resources. So please, enlighten me, son. What about your brother’s actions would you deem weak?” His eyes narrowed viciously, daring the prince to challenge him.
“I deem it all as weak.” A subtle laugh resonated from the prince. “Miron may have removed Queen Minerva, but he only accomplished it from the shadows. Instead of a clean disposal, the queen was merely banished.” A crooked smile spread across his lips. “A true king isn’t afraid to get his blade dirty... isn’t that right, Father?”
The prince dashed to his feet, drawing the dagger from his side in the same instance. In one fluid motion, he threw the blade where it spiraled in the air across the throne room. The king’s gaze never strayed from his son’s as the blade landed with a crack, embedding itself into the crest of the stone throne.
“Is that the way you address your king?” his father roared indignantly, never flinching from the dagger looming above his crown.
“That is how a king addresses the weak.” The eldest prince projected across the room, kneeling once more and fully lowering his head. “And you, Father, have taught me that a true ruler never neglects an opportunity to prove their strength.”
Silence permeated the air for a brief moment before a fraction of a smile twitched the king’s mouth. He rose from his seat and slowly approached the kneeling prince. His calm footsteps echoed ominously within the candlelit throne room. He stopped just short of his son. “If you insist on proving your strength, then I will offer you a test.”
The prince remained silent, smiling at the polished floor.
“The Drancos kingdom has been a thorn in my side for decades,” the king growled, tapping his fingers upon the tip of his embellished scepter. “Due to our involvement in Sybettal’s downfall, King Garrett has always been rather limited in his trade agreements toward Ashbourne. I do believe it is time for us to renegotiate those terms...” His shadowed eyes flickered with the fiery glow of the burning candlesticks, “by whatever means necessary.” His face maintained a grave starkness as he awaited his son’s reply.
Prince Conan chuckled. “Are you requesting that I change the king’s mind?” He raised his head slightly, looking into his father’s viperous gaze. “Or simply change who is king?”
“Surprise me,” the king replied coldly. “But keep in mind that your actions will be judged. If your results fail to please me, then Miron shall be named my successor.” He turned his focus off the prince, stepping around him and striding toward the door.
The prince bore a prideful smile of triumph as he listened for his father’s exiting footsteps. The shadows of both men danced chaotically against the light of the dwindling flame.
“By all means,” the king called back just before the doors closed behind him. “Prove you’re not afraid to get your blade dirty, son.”
chapter one
“Eight… nine… ten coins! It’s all here, Mr. Pruner.” I slid the silver coins proudly across the counter.
“Well, what do you know?” The old man smiled kindly as he collected the last silver piece. “I must say, I’m impressed, Miss Kalina. Never imagined you would sell enough flowers to purchase a fine pair of boots, but I’ve always enjoyed being proven wrong.”
I grinned radiantly. “Always a pleasure to do so. I must admit, it took a few more months than necessary to gain the last two coins. Spring is rough for selling bouquets due to the variety of wildflowers anyone can collect. Summer is my busy season, though! Who knows... you might even see me again for a second pair in the next few weeks!” I tapped on the counter excitedly, causing the cobbler to snicker.
“You certainly have the youthful energy to pull it off.” He reached low behind the counter. “But since a second pair may take some time, how bout you try these on for size instead?” He rose, placing a pair of beautiful leather gardening boots in front of me.
My mouth fell agape. “Mr. Pruner... these are incredible. But you never even took my measurements...?” Despite my apprehension, I couldn’t help but gently trace the masterful stitching that bound the leather.
The cobbler laughed again. “They should fit. You’ve tried on enough samples for me to gauge an accurate size. I had faith that you’d come up with the full payment soon enough, so I saved myself the time and crafted these a couple of weeks ago.” Ignoring my awestruck expression, he slid the shoes across the counter. “Now, what are ya gawking for? Don’t keep an old man waiting. Let me see how they look.”
I shook myself out of my astounded daze. “Right, of course!” I took the boots with a grateful nod then seated myself upon the nearest wooden stool.
My bare feet poked unattractively out from under my skirt as I raised my foot. It had been well over five years since I had received a new pair of shoes. Well, new boots, anyway. My stepmother had regularly replaced my house slippers, but only because she didn’t want my filthy toes tracking dirt into the house. Or at least, that’s how she described it. Although she wasn’t hurting for finances, Sapphira had never found me worthy of spending money on. As a matter of fact, more often than not, she used me to make money.
I slipped the boots onto my feet with ease. The fresh scent of new leather brought a widened grin upon my face. I tapped my toes and heels against the wooden plank floor, relishing in the relief that I no longer needed to worry about splinters. Mr. Pruner laughed in equal amusement as I twirled across the shop floor in my new boots. He was right, they fit perfectly.
“They’re incredible!” I announced gleefully. “Thank you so much. I promise I’ll take excellent care of them.” I gave one bonus twirl before stopping. My head continued to spin a little more than I’d intended, but I didn’t bear it any mind.
“I’m certain you will, Miss Kalina.” The cobbler’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction at my joyous reaction to his work. “Now you best start breaking them in. Next time I see those boots, they had better be caked in mud from that flower patch of yours.”
“Oh, that’s a guarantee!” I joyously tapped the boots on the ground before stepping toward the shop’s exit.
I waved a giddy farewell to the sweet gentleman before taking off down the street at a skipping run. It had been years since I could run across cobblestone. The last pair of boots my father had bought me wore out when I was sixteen. I had been walking into town barefoot for nearly two years now, and the rough stone never allowed anything faster than a canter.