26. Alar
ALAR
"You may chart your course by every star in the sky, and Destiny will laugh at your plans."
—Catonian Proverb
Not even close?
What else could they possibly want from me? Was being torn from everything I wanted not enough? Was marrying someone I didn't want not enough?
"Arlen can no longer be the heir," my father said.
I opened my mouth, then closed it, because I didn't know what to say.
Was it the legs?
I dismissed the thought as fast as it came.
A king ruled with his mind, his name, and his bearing.
Appearances mattered, I wasn't naive enough to believe otherwise, but it wouldn't be the first time a monarch suffered from a handicap.
King Rvos the Sixth of Arudon had been blind in one eye and wore a patch.
But then he'd lost that eye in battle, so that was honorable.
The same was true for King Namron the Third of Penvasita, who had lost a leg after a wound had gotten infected. That was another war injury.
But then Arlen lost the use of his legs protecting our father. That was also a heroic act. The problem was that no one knew about it, because my father kept it a secret.
Another thing that could disqualify an heir was the inability to sire heirs of his own, but my father had just told me that Arlen could still father children.
"Why?" I asked. "I understand wanting to hide how close the assassin came. But is that reason enough to strip Arlen of the succession?"
My father shook his head. "The scars can be covered by a shirt, and he can be seated during functions, which was what we have done on a few occasions just so people could see him.
The problem is that he's not Arlen anymore.
He's no longer the confident man with the firm handshake and confident smile, the man who people could see as their future king.
Now he flinches at a slammed door and gets short of breath when a maid drops a plate.
The hearing loss is temporary, but it's an impediment that is difficult to hide for now.
That's why we are limiting his appearances to the absolute minimum, which is also noticed.
We have no choice but to announce that he's abdicated and name a new heir. "
"Who?" I asked, even though I had a sinking suspicion that their choice was the least reasonable one.
"You," my mother said simply, and reached across the table for my hand. "Elurion must have guided your father and me when we named you. It was fated that you would be the next King of Catonia."
I just stared at her for a long moment. "I'm the fifth," I finally said. "There are three who come before me."
"None of them will do," my father said.
I turned to him. "Why not?"
He chuckled, and immediately regretted it, one hand going to his side.
"Neither of the twins is suited for the position.
Aric and Aden don't want the responsibility, and between us, I do not believe they could carry it even if they did.
They are charming and clever, but they don't have what it takes to lead and make hard decisions when needed.
And Avren." He shook his head. "Avren is a soldier to the marrow.
He will be a magnificent general one day, and he will lead the Federation's armies, but a general is not a diplomat.
" His gaze settled on me. "That leaves you.
You are the only one who can take Arlen's place, and you know it. "
I hated that he was right. There was no crack in the logic to pry at.
The twins were exactly as he described them, Avren was a blade that didn't belong at a negotiating table, and even though I hadn't been shadowing my father the way Arlen had, I was still more politically savvy than my other brothers.
I didn't want to be king.
That was the whole of my objection. I wanted to go back to Elucia. I wanted to stand on the cold roof of the Citadel and gaze upon the grandeur of the Elucian Mountains. I wanted Kailin's hand in mine and Veynathei's voice in my mind, and a life measured in flights instead of treaties.
"Will you keep your immortality," my mother asked, watching my face, "so far from your dragon?"
"I don't know." It was the honest answer, and it frightened me to say it aloud.
"No bonded rider has ever been separated from their dragon by such distance.
The bond is sacred. It is not meant to be stretched across a continent.
" I drew a breath. "I have to go back. For that reason among many others. "
What I didn't say was that I wasn't yet immortal.
The bond was too new. I felt stronger than I had ever been, faster, my senses sharper, but I had no illusions that I would have fared better than Arlen against that grenade or healed from it any faster than he was healing.
Immortality came with time and proximity and the steady infusion of a dragon's strength, and I hadn't been given enough time for the change to take root.
And then there was Kailin. I had promised to write to her every day in the cipher Codric and I had invented as boys, but I hadn't been as diligent as I'd intended to be, not from laziness or lack of care but because each sentence committed to paper felt like another cut, another wound.
If they made me the heir apparent, I wouldn't be able to return to her.
I wouldn't be able to bring her to me either.
A prince, and especially the heir apparent, didn't get to choose his bride.
My father sighed, and for a moment, the king receded and only the tired man remained.
"I know your heart is in Elucia, Alar. I'm not blind to what this costs you.
But you are a prince of Catonia, and a prince can't allow his heart to lead him.
Your duty is to your people before it is to yourself.
" He paused. "We will name you heir apparent at this year's annual ball. "
I could barely breathe.
"When is it?" I asked quietly, because I didn't have enough air in my lungs to be loud.
"The same as every year. Six weeks and two days from now."
Six weeks and two days. I turned the number over.
Six weeks and two days to find the flaw in their plan and devise an alternative.
They were right about the twins and about Avren.
I could not argue Aric or Aden onto the throne, and I would not wish Avren there.
Which left only one door, and it was the door they had closed.
I would have to convince them that Arlen could still be king.
I shelved the thought before it could show on my face. I needed time to prepare my arguments so they would be convincing when I presented them to my parents.
It was a frail hope.
My parents, and especially my father, did not reverse decisions. They executed them. But frail was better than none, and I had spent a lifetime learning to find the one loose thread in an argument that looked seamless.
Arlen was that thread.
If my brother could be made whole again, or at least whole enough, or even made only to look whole enough by the night of the ball, then I could convince them that he just needed time to heal his mind, and that by the time he ascended to the throne he would be hale and ready.
"How do you intend to explain the Elucian blood?" I asked instead.
To bond a dragon, a rider needed Elucian descent, and if it became known where I had been and what I had done, it would mean admitting the Tekumuton line carried it, which my father had spent his reign concealing.
"As long as I'm out of sight and out of mind, you can keep the illusion of the purity of our line. But once you put me in the spotlight, everyone and their mother will try to find out every little detail about me. You will trade one embarrassment for another."
"I don't intend to explain anything because there is nothing to explain.
Almost no one knows you were in Elucia, and no one at all knows what you did there.
The handful who know that you crossed the border were told you were doing quiet work on my behalf, negotiating for closer cooperation with the Dragon Force, and the Elucians agreed to keep your involvement with the force a secret.
As far as the Federation is concerned, you have spent these months as my envoy. "
"And Codric?"
"Still negotiating on my behalf." A faint, dry smile. "That is why I decided not to ask for his release. I needed him to keep the fiction intact."
I leaned back in my chair, drained my wine in one long swallow, and refilled the glass. The banquet between us had gone cold, the goat cheese sweating under its wrappings, the bread going soggy from the butter and herbs.
"I think you are making a mistake," I said. "Arlen can still be heir." I watched my father's face for any give and found none. "Did he agree to abdicate, or did you decide it for him?"
"He agreed." My father's voice was heavy.
"He knows that he cannot fill the role now.
He did not fight us. He seemed relieved, and that was the worst of it.
The old Arlen would have fought the decision.
" My father took a breath and winced. "We have arranged a marriage for him to a crown princess.
He will be a prince consort, which is no small station.
He will be cared for, and useful, but out of the glare. "
A crown princess. I ran through what I remembered of the seventeen heirs, which was less than I should have, given the years I'd spent attending those horrible annual balls. Several were women. Most of those I could recall were already married.
"Which province gets the honor?"
"Tarina," my mother said.
"Tarina." I repeated it, and something stirred at the back of my memory, the avalanche near the border that Kailin had reported, the stranded Elurians the Storm Wing had gone to pull off a mountain.
"Why Tarina? Their only value is the border they share with Elucia.
It's a small province, with modest resources, and industry that lags decades behind ours. "
My father's mouth curved. "I am glad that you still remember that much. Five months among the dragons did not turn your head entirely."
"Five months in Elucia did not erase twenty-four years in Catonia," I said. "I remember exactly which province is worth what, which is why I'm asking why Tarina."
"It's remote and unimportant, and that's the whole point.
" He inclined his head, pleased with the move.
"It's perfect for a prince who needs to disappear from the public eye, and Queen Margada was eager to accept him.
An alliance with Catonia is more than she could have dreamed of for her province. "
I had no doubt of that. A queen of a forgotten border province, handed a blood-tie to the most powerful province in the Federation, would have signed in her own blood and called it a bargain.
She did not care that her daughter was being handed a broken man as a husband.
All she could think about was the lucrative alliance.
Poor Arlen. From the most sought-after bachelor in the Elurian Federation to a problem to be wrapped in straw and shipped away, married off to a princess he would never have married otherwise. None of this was fair to anyone, but life wasn't fair.
"Does Arlen know where he's being sent?"
"Not yet," my mother said.
I arched a brow. "What's your plan? Tell him at the ball, in front of the Federation?"
"Yes." My father reached for one of the wrapped appetizers at last, as if naming the worst of it had returned some sliver of his appetite. "That is when I will announce all the betrothals. Some are still being negotiated, but they will be settled by then."
"Who did you find for me?" I wasn't sure I wanted the answer, since I had no intention of standing at any altar, and whatever name he gave me belonged to a woman I would be obliged to disappoint, or rather her parents, who had done the actual choosing. But I was curious.
"Princess Ailadi of Morila," my mother said. "King Osrec and Queen Ralehari are the only ones who know we intend to name you heir. They are overjoyed at the prospect of their daughter as the future Queen of Catonia."
I frowned, sorting through faces and finding none to match the name. "I've never met her, so she must have been too young to attend the annual balls. How old is she?"
"She turns eighteen soon. Old enough to be a bride.
" My mother's smile turned soft and she seemed entirely too pleased with herself.
"She has no paramour, and neither do you.
So, you might actually marry for love, the two of you.
" She turned that smile on my father, and it changed, becoming warmer, flirtatious, the smile of a loving wife rather than a queen. "Like your father and me."