The Bloody Crown: Rivalin's Heir, #0.5

By Sarah Peters

A throne, a crown, and someone willing to do whatever it takes to claim it all...

 

 

His entire life, Prince Daren has been destined for the throne. The son of two royal dynasties, he was born to be King of Alaresti. With his seventeenth birthday and the ceremony that will confirm him as his father's heir looming, his future seems clear.

 

Daren, however, isn't sure he's ready for the responsibility. Alaresti's Court has always been a tangle of politics and lies. Even his betrothed, Elessa, wants more than he can give. And with rumors circulating that he's unfit to rule, he faces a difficult choice between obeying his father or listening to his own heart.

 

But only days after Daren comes of age, the king is murdered in his bed and the weight of the crown descends to rest on Daren's shoulders. As he steps up he is accused of treason and plotting his father's death, and the throne is taken from his grasp. Now he must clear his name and discover who is truly responsible if he wants to claim his birthright, before someone else takes it all.

 

 

This book is a prequel to the series, Rivalin's Heir. The first book in the series is The Fallen Prince. The Bloody Crown is not required to begin the series, but it is the suggested introduction point.
Rivalin's Heir is not a completed series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: King's Blade Press
• Release date: May 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9798986829623

Book preview

Copyright © 2023 by Sarah Peters

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Contact Info: authorsarahpeters.com

Cover Design by Stone Ridge Books

Copy Editing by EJL Editing

Published by Kings Blade Press

PO Box 1641

Dover, NH 03821

E-book ISBN: 979-8-9868296-2-3

Print ISBN: 979-8-9868296-3-0

First Edition: May 2023

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Contents

Alaresti Color

Enneren Color

1. Daren

2. Elessa

3. Daren

4. Elessa

5. Daren

6. Elessa

7. Daren

8. Elessa

9. Daren

10. Daren

11. Elessa

12. Daren

13. Daren

14. Elessa

15. Elessa

16. Daren

17. Daren

18. Elessa

19. Daren

20. Elessa

21. Daren

22. Elessa

23. Elessa

24. Daren

25. Elessa

26. Elessa

27. Daren

28. Elessa

29. Elessa

30. Daren

31. Elessa

32. Daren

33. Elessa

34. Elessa

35. Daren

Anwen

The Fallen Prince

Daren

Kyr

Important Persons

Glossary

Also by Sarah Peters

Acknowledgments

About the Author

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one

Daren

April 24, 1576 A.C.

Daren hated the shivery feeling he always got when he was alone with his aunt. It was a cold that seeped into his bones and his soul and left him defenseless before her. He shifted from one foot to the other, biting down on his tongue.

Stand up straight. His aunt missed nothing.

He met her pale green gaze, identical to his own, and straightened his shoulders, lifting his chin. You sent for me?

Her eyes narrowed. Tall and statuesque, Princess Anwen Anthoulis could command a room with her mere presence. The room shrank as she circled him, pursing her lips. I expected you at court this morning, Prince Daren.

The back of his neck itched, but he didn’t move. I chose not to attend.

Oh? Her voice was a smooth purr as she came around his front again. Why?

He tensed. I have better things to do than waste time gossiping with vapid nobles.

Waste time? She dismissed his concerns with a glance. How many times do we need to have this talk, Daren? You’re the heir to the throne. People need to see you. You can’t ignore your duties.

He stiffened. What did she know of his duty and responsibility? Where’s my father?

With the council. She frowned, crossing her arms. Listen to me, Daren.

His heart sank. If his father was busy, that meant he’d delegated the task of bringing Daren in line to Anwen. Again. It was always the same when she summoned him to her office. She lectured him like a child, even when he was on the verge of becoming an adult.

Your cousins are due to arrive today. You needed to be at court, in public, to remind people you are Alarestian first. They look at you and they see your mother’s blood. Her magic. Anwen spat the last word. Do you understand me? Hiding only creates more rumors. You don’t want people wondering what you’ve been up to.

I was in the library. That’s public. He glared at her. Magic. Of course she would bring it up. He forced himself to breathe. There was no way she could know. And I don’t have magic. Don’t be ridiculous.

Anwen shook her head and sighed. Daren—

But whatever she was about to say was interrupted by a knock on the door. Daren turned as a page entered the room.

Anwen lowered her arms. Yes?

The boy sank into a hasty bow. His Majesty the king has sent for you. The boy’s eyes flicked to Daren. B-b… both of you, Your Highnesses. In the entrance hall.

Of course. Anwen stepped away from him and toward her desk. Inform His Majesty that we will be right down.

The page bowed again before leaving. Daren spun around. I should—

Wait. Anwen held out a hand, stopping him. Before you go, Prince Daren.

He ground his teeth together. Yes?

You will listen to your father, yes? Anwen raised an eyebrow. This is an important night. You need to make the right impression on the Alarestian people, and your cousins.

Daren scowled. She wouldn’t let him go that easily. You have nothing to worry about, Auntie.

Her right eye twitched, and he knew he’d hit a nerve. He allowed himself a small smile as he left her office. The moment she was out of sight, his shoulders relaxed and he unclenched his jaw, letting out a long breath.

Across the hall was a pair of large, heavy wooden doors that led into the council room. Daren paused, staring at them. He’d never been allowed in. His father had always said he was too young.

But that was about to change. He braced himself, heading down the hall to the stairs. At the bottom was the door that led into the entrance hall. Blue and gold banners hung overhead. A crowd had gathered. His gut shrank into a ball at the sight, and he clenched his hands into fists to hide the anxiety that thrummed through him. He hated crowds.

But Calandra would’ve loved it.

He shoved thoughts of his sister down and slipped into the room, edging around people. His father stood at the front, easily identifiable by the gold coronet that topped his head. At his side was the ambassador from Theros, wearing rich green robes.

Daren worked his way toward the doors, taking advantage of his light, lean frame to cut through unnoticed. He emerged before his father and sank into a bow. Your Majesty.

Ah, good. I was wondering where you were. The Hellene delegation approaches. King Gendar assessed him through narrowed eyes.

Daren rose from his bow, keeping his eyes lowered. I was speaking with my aunt.

You’ll need this. Gendar gestured. A servant holding a wooden case stepped forward, opening it. Inside, a silver circlet rested on a blue pillow.

Daren sank into another bow as his father lifted the circlet, setting it on his head and pinning his dark hair in place. The metal was cold, and the weight of it was familiar. He forced a smile onto his face as he rose, taking his place at his father’s left.

Goosebumps crawled down the back of his neck. He shivered, resisting the urge to turn as his aunt emerged from the crowd, taking her place at his father’s right. The doors swung open.

A pair of men carrying tightly furled banners stepped forward, entering the hall and flanking the door. The banners dripped water onto the stone floor. Daren eyed them, knowing what symbols would be worked on them if they were open. The symbol of Theros, and the symbol of the Soukis family. His mother’s family.

Next to enter were a pair of young men. The moment they were inside they threw back their hoods, unfastening their cloaks and handing them off to servants who appeared. The one in the lead, a tall young man with curly dark hair, approached the waiting group and sank into a half bow. King Gendar. His pronunciation was almost perfect, but there was a faint accent to his voice, a lilt to the words that betrayed his foreignness. How gracious of you to welcome us into your house. I am Prince Jason Soukis of Theros.

Daren bit down on his tongue as he waited for his father to respond. He’d studied the royal bloodline of Theros. The young man standing before them was the eldest son of King Alexander. That made him heir to his father’s title, a position on par with Daren’s own.

Gendar smiled. Welcome to Sorano. Allow me to introduce my son, Prince Daren Anthoulis.

Daren stepped forward, inclining his head. Prince Jason.

Jason held his hands out. Cousin. How good of you to greet us personally. He gestured to the side, and the young man who’d entered beside him came forward. This is my brother, Prince Anton Soukis.

Anton bowed to Gendar before nodding to Daren. His brows were furrowed and his eyes were flat as he took in the hall. There was no warmth in his expression, and Daren tensed as he met Anton’s dark gaze.

His father cleared his throat. Daren bit down on his lip. Allow me to show you to your rooms. I’m sure you want to freshen up after your journey.

Of course. Jason stepped forward.

Daren turned to lead his cousins away. The crowds parted for him, but murmurs reached his ears as he passed through. The court loved gossip.

He’s almost more Hellene than Alarestian, someone whispered.

Daren’s head snapped up, but he couldn’t find whoever had spoken. His aunt’s words came back to him. He resisted the urge to call them out and kept moving until he reached the corridor that led into the wing of the castle where guests were housed. They turned a corner, and the sounds from the entrance hall faded.

So, Prince Daren. Anton was the first to speak.

Daren slowed. Yes?

Anton switched languages. How much do you remember about your mother?

Daren blinked. I’m not sure what you’re asking. It was easy for him to slip into Hellene.

Anton raised an eyebrow. You do speak her tongue. He glanced at his brother. I was worried you might not, having lost her so young.

My nurse taught me. Daren faced forward again. Lady Naia Savakis. She came to Alaresti with my mother.

Of course.

Anton, don’t. Jason’s tone was cold. We’re not here to antagonize our cousin.

Oh? Daren glanced between them.

Jason offered a disarming smile. If you could just show us to our rooms, that would be lovely. I’m dying to get out this damp clothing. It’s freezing out for spring, if you ask me.

Daren repressed a grin. It’s normal here. You’re lucky it’s not snowing anymore. If you’d arrived a month ago, it would be. He slowed, coming to a stop before a single door. Here we are. There are two bedrooms connected by a shared sitting room, and there’s a bathing room attached as well. The stables should have sent your luggage up already. There will be servants at your disposal should you need anything. They speak Hellene, so there’s no need to worry about being misunderstood.

He didn’t miss the flash of Jason’s eyes as the other prince took in his words and the veiled warning they contained. How kind of you to ensure we have all we need, Jason said. He held out his hand. Thank you for your kind welcome. Your sister sends her greetings.

Daren copied the gesture, gripping his cousin’s forearm. It was strong and solid, corded with muscle. Jason might be dressed as a courtier, but he was no stranger to a fight. Their eyes met.

Daren inclined his head. I will see you at dinner.

He let go. As he turned away, he noticed a slip of paper that had been pushed up his sleeve. His hand twitched and he resisted the urge to glance back as he heard the two princes pick up the conversation, their voices inaudible as they stepped into their rooms.

Daren glanced around. The hall was empty. He picked up his pace, turning the corner and heading up a tight spiral of stairs as he fished a key out of his pocket.

His retreat at the top of the tower was secure. A fire burned in the brazier by the door, warming the cramped room. He pulled the slip of paper free, turning it over in his hands.

There was no seal, but an image had been sketched on the outside. A symbol he knew. The bridge that was Alaresti’s flag. He raised an eyebrow and unfolded it.

Daren,

There is more to my exile than you or I knew. I urge you to be careful of our aunt. She’s planning something, and that’s why I was sent to Theros. Please be careful. I love you.

-Calandra

The paper fluttered from his fingers to the ground. He blinked. What?

A covert message from his sister was the last thing he’d been expecting. Half of him wanted to race back down the stairs to his cousin’s room, to demand answers. The other half of him knew better.

It was a warning. He couldn’t afford to act rashly. Daren picked up the note and placed it in the brazier, watching it blacken at the edges. His aunt’s final words to him echoed in his thoughts.

You need to remind people you are Alarestian first.

Those words sent a chill down his spine as he glanced up at the windows, streaked with rain. Alarestian first, he whispered, his hand rising to his throat to touch the ring that hung there.

What had she meant?

two

Elessa

The spiral of stairs leading upward was tight. Elessa paused just below the landing to smooth out her pale blue skirts, reaching up to check her black hair and make sure nothing had come free. When she finished she took the last step, reaching for the handle and pushing the door open.

As she’d thought, it swung open soundlessly. Daren was in the window seat, a book open on his lap as he stared out at the rain. He hadn’t noticed her entrance. She paused in the doorway. Daren.

His head snapped around and he sat up. The book dropped to the floor as he stood. Lady Elessa.

Oh, save it. She closed the door behind her. We’re alone.

He gestured at an empty chair before his desk and bent to retrieve the fallen book. What brings you up here? His movements were stiff.

She gathered her skirts, taking a seat and crossing her ankles. I missed you at court this morning. She glanced at his desk, which was covered with a scattering of loose papers. A wry smile twisted her lips. What are you working on now?

Things. He pulled out his own chair behind the desk and sat, gathering the sheets and setting them aside. Is it important?

She let the smile fall and leaned forward. When you miss something as important as court despite your father asking you to attend, tongues wag.

He winced. Don’t remind me. There was a shadow in his eyes as he avoided meeting hers.

She pressed her lips together. Daren—

I know. He raked his hands back through his hair. I already heard it from my aunt. I don’t need it from you.

Fine.

Daren rose, crossing to the window and perching there, gazing out at the rain. I can’t be the person they expect me to be.

She recalled her first glimpse of him, three years earlier, standing at his father’s side with a serious expression as he welcomed her to Sorano. She’d always known it was a mask, but despite trying she still hadn’t gotten under it. There are rumors you know, in the court—

Elessa. There was a hard edge to his voice that warned her to drop it.

She sighed, standing and taking a few steps toward him. I’m allowed to worry about you, aren’t I? I thought we were friends.

Her heart was in her throat as she spoke and she blinked, reminding herself that she couldn’t afford to let her true feelings show. Friends. He’d let her in that much, at least.

I’m sorry, Elessa. He turned to her, giving her a half smile. I just needed some space.

She tilted her head to one side, studying his face. That bad, huh?

They were closer than they had been in the past. He dragged in a deep breath, taking a step back. We are friends, Elessa. Did you come up here just to check on me?

She lowered her chin. I couldn’t help it, when I saw you in the entrance hall earlier. You were… She couldn’t say it. He’d seemed lost, hunted, as if someone had pinned him in place. It had been the first time she’d seen him in almost a week. He had a reputation for ducking out of court functions and disappearing, often into dusty library corners or his tower room.

How was I? His voice was soft.

She lifted her eyes to his. His gaze was a pale green, made paler by the light coming from the window. She could make out a thin, dark ring of blue around his pupils, a detail she’d never noticed before. They were still close, and she could feel the warmth coming off him. A flush of heat spread through her and her cheeks tingled. Kiss me.

His eyes widened. I…