The Twelve Kingdoms Read Free

Realm, Heir to the High Throne of the Twelve Kingdoms?”
    Jepp and Marksal drew up closer, their battle readiness almost an audible buzz in my ears. For a moment, it seemed it might come to that, the foreign guard undaunted, scrutinizing me for some sign that I was who I claimed to be. I flexed my hand on the hilt of my sword, edging Dafne more behind me.
    A series of shouts in another language relayed from the walls and my challenger cocked his head, nodded, and stepped aside. “Welcome home, Your Highness.” He bowed but did not apologize. I ignored him and rode forward, not feeling welcome at all.
    We passed through the outer gates, the shadow of the walls passing chill over me.

2
    W e rode into the outer courtyard of Ordnung, the eyes of the castle guard continuing heavy on my back. Since when had our usual guard been replaced with foreigners who knew so little of our realm that I would be regarded with such pointed suspicion? I would have to discuss this with Lord Percy. Unlike him to man the walls with no one to recognize when important personages approached the gates.
    All we needed now was a diplomatic incident because a noble of the Twelve got skewered on our doorstep by an untrained guard.
    Unless this wasn’t a mistake and the High King had publicly disinherited me already, upon hearing the news of Astar’s birth. Or declared me a traitor as I had neither rejoined our forces poised at stalemate with Erich’s nor returned with the babe. His spies would have long noted that Ami did not ride with me and that we moved at a pace too rapid for an infant. He’d never directly ordered me to join his army encamped near the river east of Lianore, but normally I would have. The last I’d heard, Uorsin’s army had not moved to intercept Erich’s on the march to Windroven to “celebrate the birth of Avonlidgh’s heir.”
    Both preserving the fiction that civil war had not yet begun in earnest.
    I straightened my spine, wishing the ache away. For all the good that did. Too much time in the saddle or sitting long hours in bad chairs while I contemplated the awful possibility that Amelia might die. The rest of the Hawks looked tense to my eye as well, though I doubted a more casual observer would notice. They called out greetings to the watchful guard and joked among themselves, creating the illusion of a pleasant homecoming. The appearance of victory could be as vital as the actual accomplishment.
    We dismounted in the inner courtyard, the young grooms dashing up as usual to take the horses. That much hadn’t changed. But I did not recognize the guard at the door, which I absolutely should have, and my ladies did not appear to persuade me to bathe and change into a gown before greeting King and court. I would have refused, but they always made the attempt.
    I’d been gone quite a long time. Perhaps that explained it.
    Dafne raised her eyebrow, ever so slightly. No expression of interest now. She’d marked the changes, too. Nervous? Her question echoed in my head, as if it had been a warning.
    Danu take them all, this wasn’t right.
    â€œYour Highness?” Marskal saluted me and the rest of the Hawks echoed the movement. It marked the transition for me, from warrior to princess. I never much liked this moment, but it wouldn’t do to enter my father’s court flanked by my specially trained team of crack soldiers. Though I might need them. Especially with the cold whisper of a traitor’s fate breathing down my neck.
    â€œWell ridden, well fought,” I replied, placing my clenched fist over my heart, returning the salute. “You’re dismissed.”
    Marskal slid a glance at the castle proper and lowered his voice. “Captain, should we—”
    â€œYou’ve earned your ease,” I interrupted. “I shall see you all at supper.”
    I hoped.
    They didn’t like it, but neither would they argue. In private, maybe. Not