Heir of the Tide (Villainous Heirs) by Louise Shepard

Author:Louise Shepard [Shepard, Louise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-05-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

NIA

Peremore's throne is both my birthright and my prison. I thought I had finally broken free of it when I escaped to Caspia, but now I'm back in a kingdom I had hoped never to see again. Beneath my palm, the marble surface of the throne is as cold and unyielding as ever, the same as everything else in Aquarion.

So much has changed since I left these walls, yet somehow, so much has stayed the same. The throne is exactly as I remember it, but the same can't be said for myself—I'm no longer a child, but a woman. A warrior. The rightful heir to this kingdom.

Even if ruling it is the last thing I want.

I hate how being back here makes me feel small and weak, as though I never left in the first place. I built my own identity in Caspia, became who I was meant to be. With that stripped away, all that's left is the scared little girl who lived under her mother's thumb.

I may not be that little girl anymore, but she's still part of me. This place is bringing her back to the surface.

I don't realize how badly I'm shaking until Kyan comes up behind me. His feather-light touch on my arm brings me back to the present, and I turn to face him. He stands in front of me, blocking my view of the entrance, and the rapid beating of my heart slows.

Since we neared the palace this morning, he's been so focused on calming my fears. I should hate his attention and be repulsed by his kindness. And after the way I've been treating him since last night, I know I don't deserve any of his comfort. I certainly have no right to accept it.

But he has offered it nonetheless. And now that we're here, each small touch and understanding smile is a raft I cling to desperately.

I tilt my head in a subtle nod, letting him know I'm alright. He steps away from me just in time for the doors to the throne room to swing open.

For the first time in five years, I see my mother. She strides in, flanked by two guards I don't recognize, and I feel a pang of disappointment that neither of them are Captain Stahl. I could use another friendly face right now.

The queen is dressed in an extravagant teal gown, embellished by white pearls and a silver neckline that plunges far too low for my taste. Her dark hair is perfectly coiffed and pinned in an elegant updo, with a few wispy strands placed perfectly to frame her face. Atop her head rests the opal and tourmaline crown of Peremore.

She's the picture of perfect elegance, radiating an aura of haughty royalty with every step.

The moment her gaze falls on me, she lets out a dramatic gasp. Her fingers fly up to her chest in a practiced look of shock, which quickly shifts into a saccharine smile. Tears well in her eyes, and she makes a show of dabbing them away with the side of her finger.

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