The sickening truth settled over me like a shroud. My own uncle—my flesh and blood—had orchestrated this entire nightmare from the beginning. I sat motionless in my chair, trying to absorb Harrison's words as the rest of the family continued discussing strategy.
"So you believe Archduke Malakor has been planning this for...decades?" I finally managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Harrison nodded gravely, his weathered hands folded in his lap. "I believe he's been plotting since the moment High King Theron took the throne instead of him. His brother's crown was always what he coveted."
"But why me?" The question burst from me with more emotion than I'd intended. "Why use me this way?"
Kaelen's hand found mine under the table, his grip warm and steady. "Because you carried Theron's bloodline. The divine right to rule."
"A right that meant nothing to him when I was just a girl," I spat bitterly. "He left me in that orphanage to suffer for years."
