Page 131 of The Prince and His Stolen Throne
“I …”How do I know that?“I dreamed about it?”
“That is a little concerning,” Father said. “Something we might need to discuss with the Good Wizard.”
I frowned. “Did you not want me to know about it?”
“We do,” Dad said. “But it’s a little complicated. You see, because you’re adopted, we weren’t entirely sure you would qualify as ‘royalty’ for the spell.”
I stared at him for a long moment, feeling suddenly off balance, like we’d gone off script. It took me a while to figure out that the confusing part of the sentence was the word ‘adopted.’But I already knew that,so why is it confusing?Though Father and I both had red hair, they’d adopted me after I’d shown up on the castle’s doorstep one day, cold, miserable, and confused. I had some vague memories about where I’d come from, but nothing more than a few bright colors and a warm hearth. There was an image of blond curly hair, but I couldn’t remember if it belonged to my mother or father. Everything else was as foggy as the lingering dream.
Hopefully nothing was wrong with my head.
“So? Do I qualify?”
“We don’t know,” Dad said. “We tried to contact the Good Wizard to ask him, but he hasn’t replied to any of our letters.”
“Right now, we’re acting as if you do,” Father explained. “Blood related or not, you’re our son. We raised you and we love you. However, the spell requires sacrifice. You’ll either have to go on a dangerous quest or marry one of the candidates from the other kingdoms. The marriage condition worked out for your dad and I because we found love, but it could have easily ended in disaster if I’d married your Aunt Franny. The Desolated Land’s safety would have come at the cost of our misery.”
“We don’t want that for you,” Dad added. “We’ve done our best to prepare you for either option, but you have an easy way out.”
They both fell silent, allowing me to reach the conclusion on my own. “You mean that I could use the fact that we aren’t blood related as an excuse not to participate.” I started shaking my head before I even finished the sentence, knowing that would be the wrong choice. “I don’t care if it’s a quest or a wedding. Even if it doesn’t work—even if the spell is stupid enough to only consider blood relations family—I want to help defend the kingdom.”
Both of my fathers pulled me into a hug, whispering words of affection and pride. I hugged them back tightly, worried it might be my last chance.
What I didn’t tell them was that there was a voice at the back of my mind, urging me to take the leap forward. To find out what—or who—waited at the end of the adventure.
