Scales and Steel (The Gilded Prince #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Ten years ago...

Gold ran down Cedric’s brow, warm as sunlight, rich with the scent of myrrh.

The priest’s cool fingers traced an ancient sigil across his forehead, and Cedric inhaled deeply, steadying himself.

This was meant to be sacred. A blessing.

And it was. A quiet pride stirred in his chest—he had trained for this moment, had prepared for it.

He believed in his duty and in the legacy passed down to him.

But gods, he had never enjoyed the staring.

So many eyes—assessing, expectant, waiting for him to stumble.

“Kneel, Prince of Lunareth.”

The priest’s words echoed through the High Temple of Aurenis.

The vast chamber soared above Cedric, its mirrored walls catching slants of sunlight from narrow celestial windows.

Sunburst mosaics stretched across the domed ceiling, displaying the history of Lunareth and its rulers in bands of gold and red jasper.

A hush fell over the gathered nobility. His mother and father stood at the very front, positioned just beside the priest. His mother’s proud smile was tinged with joy, while his father, ever composed, stood nearby to take part in the ritual when needed.

Cedric straightened under their gaze, drawing strength from their presence.

But he couldn’t see his sister, Gwenna. She was probably off making trouble somewhere, even during a formal ceremony.

The priest dipped his fingers into the sacred oil again, the flecks of gold shimmering as he anointed the backs of Cedric’s hands. An acolyte stepped forward, carrying a thin golden circlet upon a velvet cushion.

“This circlet marks you as the kingdom’s protector, the heir to Lunareth,” the priest intoned. “May you serve with wisdom and strength.”

The moment the metal touched Cedric’s forehead, a strange sensation rippled through him—like a key turned in the wrong lock. It vanished as quickly as it came, lost beneath the priest’s unwavering voice.

“By the will of the gods and the blessing of your ancestors, you are named the Gilded Prince.”

King William Cleburne stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Cedric’s shoulder. ”As you step closer to your future, remember this: power is not measured in conquest, but in kindness. A ruler is judged not by how he commands armies, but by how he protects those who cannot protect themselves.”

The words settled into Cedric’s bones, heavier than the circlet.

He swallowed, throat tight, then lifted his gaze to meet his father’s as he spoke the vow he’d memorized.

“Before Aurenis and all who bear witness, I swear to guard this kingdom and its people with wisdom and mercy. I swear it upon my name, my blood, and my breath.”

The priest gestured, and Darius stepped forward from the line of acolytes, carrying the shallow bowl of polished obsidian—the sacred stone.

Cedric’s heart stuttered. He suddenly wished he hadn’t asked his friend to take part in the ceremony. Too much of a distraction.

Darius had always drawn him like that—too familiar to fear, too dangerous to resist. A hand offered in loyalty, a blade hidden just beneath the skin. Cedric trusted him. Needed him. Wanted him more than he should have.

He extended his hand without hesitation.

The priest passed the ceremonial dagger to Darius, its handle wrapped in golden silk. Darius came closer, so close that Cedric caught the scent of him. Don’t think about that right now. Focus.

“The world will change because of you,” Darius murmured, so quietly only Cedric could hear.

Their eyes met, a breath too long. Then Darius reached, taking Cedric’s hand in his own as he turned the palm upward. Cedric was so focused on the sensation of Darius’s touch that he almost didn’t feel the pressure of the dagger’s tip.

The blade bit cleanly into Cedric’s flesh.

A sharp sting bloomed, followed by a slow, pulsing ache.

A thin line of crimson welled up, slipping down his fingers.

Darius caught the drops in the bowl, tilting the obsidian to hold it—a gleaming crimson pool shining dark against the stone.

Cedric clenched his jaw against the pain, unwilling to show weakness before all of those eyes.

Darius flashed a grin at him, then hefted the bowl for all to see. “I bear witness to the bond. Blood given, oath taken, life bound to duty.”

The priest nodded to Darius. Cedric watched as he slipped away to join the acolytes of Aurenis. But duty took precedence over longing. He forced himself to let Darius fade into the crowd.

The priest lifted the second ceremonial vessel.

A shallow bronze brazier, coals smoldering within.

He poured a vial of sacred resin into the embers.

A plume of smoke wafted upward, shifting from pale gold to deep amber, the scent rich and heady.

The smoke curled in slow, beckoning tendrils, waiting.

Cedric closed his eyes and inhaled.

The warmth filled his lungs, seeping through him like liquid sunlight. For a moment, something stirred deep inside, something half-asleep and waiting—

Then the moment passed, interrupted by the priest’s final pronouncement. ”By sacred rite and sovereign will, I name you Prince Cedric Cleburne, Gilded Heir of Lunareth.”

Applause swelled around him, and Cedric banished all thoughts of the strange sensation.

For a moment, he allowed himself to breathe, to absorb the moment—the temple’s golden light, the heavy scent of myrrh, the comforting presence of his father beside him.

But the solemnity of the ritual had already begun to fade, replaced by the expectant murmurs of the gathered nobility.

The ceremony had been the easy part. Now he had to endure the celebration.

His father beamed, clapping a hand on Cedric’s shoulder. “You did well, Ced. We’re so proud of you.”

Mom hurried over, taking his still-bleeding hand in hers.

She pressed a handkerchief against it. Warmth bloomed beneath his skin.

“This will hold until you can see the royal healer.” She winked, voice light, but the magic laced beneath her words was unmistakable.

“Go on, get this taken care of. We’ll see you in the great hall. ”

Cedric smiled, holding the handkerchief in place. The soft tingle of his mother’s magic danced across the cut. It was unfortunate she couldn’t do more, but they were in public. Too many watching eyes. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll be there as soon as I’m no longer at risk of bleeding all over the marble.”

She kissed his forehead. Then she turned as King William offered her his arm, and together, they started toward the great hall.

Too many expectations. The thought hissed like steam in Cedric’s skull.

The great hall glittered with a thousand watchful eyes. Courtiers swarmed like jeweled beetles, their silks shifting like oil-slicked water, and at the heart of it all, Cassara Marovelle stood among them—a striking figure in dark silver and blue.

The woman who would soon become his betrothed.

The word sat like iron in his stomach. It was meant to be a triumph, a political bond between Lunareth and Revendar, but all he felt was…trapped. Cassara met his gaze briefly, offering him a polite nod, before turning away to speak to a noblewoman draped in furs.

Cedric’s fingers found the now-healed scar on his palm, rubbing it as a distraction. He would have to go speak with her soon. It would be rude not to. But still, his gut clenched.

It’s what I must do. We both know this alliance isn’t for love. No, it was for trade and mutual protection. Already, the Avilisian empire was pounding on Revendar’s door. The ever-growing tide of refugees was proof enough that their western neighbor was soon to be in dire straits.

Gwenna’s punch to his arm demanded his immediate attention. His sister’s frown was a masterpiece of teenage disdain, her cheeks flushed under chestnut curls. “You look like you’d rather stab yourself with a dessert fork than be here,” she declared.

Ah, Gwenna. Her words cut through the room’s syrup, a welcome distraction.

“You’re not wrong.” He sighed, gaze sliding to a cluster of courtiers preening in silk monstrosities. One man’s lace collar could’ve doubled as a siege weapon. Cedric’s own collar chafed. “Where were you?”

Gwenna’s eyes widened in her best what-ever-do-you-mean? expression.

“I just hope you weren’t getting into the temple’s wine again.” Cedric frowned at her.

“Slander and lies,” Gwenna shot back. “That was one time.”

He snorted. “One time was probably enough to permanently put you on Aurenis’s dark side. What were you actually doing?”

Gwenna grinned, eyes glinting with mischief. “If you must know, I was borrowing a map from the war room.”

Cedric stiffened. “You what?”

“Relax, I’ll put it back later.” She grinned at him.

He gave her his best serious look, which had no effect on her. “You realize you’re telling that to the Gilded Prince, right?” If anyone found out, there would be questions. Uncomfortable ones. “You could get into real trouble for this, Gwenna.”

“I’m telling my brother who loves me dearly and wouldn’t dare breathe a word of this to anyone.

” Gwenna’s grin broadened. “And hey, this is a celebration! So let’s celebrate!

” Her lips brushed Cedric’s cheek. “Byeeeeee.” Her skirts hissed against his boots as she vanished into the crowd, a fox slipping into tall grass.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. This celebration might be in his honor, but somehow, he didn’t feel as if he belonged at all. Cedric glanced around, noticing the gazes of several nobles land on him, as if judging the perfect opportunity to pounce on their newly minted Gilded Prince.

That was the last thing Cedric wanted to deal with at the moment. Perhaps it was time to seek out his future wife.

Cedric eased through the crowd, nobles slipping out of his path with respectful bows or curtsies. He nodded to them, smiling at Cassara as he approached.