Page 10 of The Crownless Prince

Uncomfortably near the truth, but they’d needed a plausible reason why they wouldn’t know the latest news. Spending a few years in a hermitage for spiritual reasons was likely to be too personal for anyone to ask prying questions.

“For how long?” The man shuffled out of the way as the innkeeper returned and placed food and tankards in front of them. “Helen, these boys don’t know we got ourselves a king again.”

The innkeeper whipped back around, loose tendrils of hair flying about her face. “What’s this? How?”

“Just came out of hermitage.” The man shrugged.

“Well that won’t do.” Within moments, Helen had pulled up two more chairs, and she and the man with the cane settled on them.

Marcus experimentally sipped at the watery stew from a dinged pewter spoon and nearly melted into the chair. Herbs! They rarely had received seasoning beyond salt with their monthly supply deliveries, and even when they did, neither he nor Edwin had had the slightest notion how to use them appropriately.

“It all started about…oh, two years ago,” Helen said, her expression lighting up like she relished the opportunity to tell the story. “Some nobles in Nydellan Principality stirred up a revolt against Prince Uldrich, and there were rumors Prince Arlius was involved, so Prince Uldrich asked Prince Mortimer for aid—wait, you do know who the three princes were, right?”

His mouth full of savory carrots and broth, Marcus nodded.

“Well, after they put down the revolt together, Prince Uldrich got the idea that Prince Mortimer would be easy pickin’s while his army was still in Nydellan Principality.”

The man tsked. “Fool. Prince Mortimer wiped out the entire Nydellan family and claimed the lands for himself.”

“Aye, so then Faine Principality was two-thirds of Aedyllan,” Helen said. “Prince Arlius didn’t appreciate that and invaded Faine Principality while Prince Mortimer was still on his way home. Probably thought Faine Castle would be defenseless and Faine’s army exhausted.”

Marcus winced. Of all the foolish, underhanded, and cowardlythings to do…no wonder Prince Mortimer had razed Alimer Castle.

“Did him no good,” interjected the old man. “Prince Mortimer brought men from his expanded principality and had left plenty of knights to guard his family. He drove Prince Arlius back to his own castle.”

“You probably saw the smoke.” Helen shook her head. “Arlius was killed four days ago, and the next day, Mortimer was crowned in Alimer Castle. Then he had it burned. It’s been three days, but it’s still smolderin’.”

“Prince Mortimer claimed the title of King of Aedyllan and had it announced all over the kingdom,” the man said. “Course, there’s also the rumors.”

“Rumors?” Marcus asked.

The man nodded gravely. “There’s word about that Mortimer Faine isn’t king now by mere skill alone.” He leaned in, his tone conspiratorial. “Some say he was aided by the fair folk.”

Chapter 4

Prince Mortimer scowled, his arms crossed over his chest, revealing bulging muscles even through the long sleeves of his ankle-length tunic. “Prince Marcus Alimer, you say? Why in Aedyllan do you wish to see my daughter?”

“I was the one who found her during the autumn hunt, Your Highness.” Marcus gulped. They had met at that time, but Mortimer had been too worried about Adriana to spare Marcus more than a passing glance.

“Oh. Thank you.” The intimidating prince eyed him, and Marcus had the sinking feeling he didn’t measure up in some way. Perhaps it was a good thing Adriana’s father didn’t know about the letters they’d exchanged over the last three weeks. “How old are you?”

“Sixteen.” His voice cracked, because of course his body would choose that moment to betray him.

Adriana’s father snorted. “You seem innocent and foolish enough that you likely aren’t a threat. Besides, I’ve heard the rumors that you don’t get along with your father, so I suppose he didn’t send you for somenefarious purpose.” He shrugged and stepped out of the doorway, motioning Marcus into a narrow hall. “I’ll send for her. She’ll want to thank you in person, as is proper.”

When Adriana entered the hallway several minutes later, a gold circlet tucked into her blonde curls and a violet dress swishing about her legs, Marcus finally understood why people described beauty as enchanting. Because when she smiled, he could have sworn she’d cast a spell on his heart.

“Fae?” An unpleasant sensation twisted in Marcus’s gut. Would Mortimer do something as risky as dealing with the fae? Sure, Marcus’s own father had used a fae curse to keep him trapped in a tower, but Mortimer had always seemed more astute.

“Aye,” Helen said. “There’s two stories circulatin’—first that Mortimer found his way into the fae realm and asked to rule Aedyllan, and the other—”

“That he rescued a fae lass, and she granted him a boon,” the man cut in.

“Owen, am I tellin’ this story or you?”

“Thought we both were.”

She rolled her eyes. “Anyway. I like the story that he saved a lady’s life, not knowing she was fae, so she granted him a wish.”

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