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surprise. Perhaps Erich had lost some of his wisdom to the dementia of grief. It hit people that way sometimes—they thought they were being rational, but they weren’t.
    â€œIt is so unfortunate that the unrest in your household resulted in Avonlidgh’s loss,” Erich continued. “However, I and the people of Avonlidgh wish to assure you of our continued fealty and utter faith that Your Highness will make recompense.”
    Uorsin’s bushy eyebrows knotted. Derodotur, his long-time adviser, moved up surreptitiously and caught the High King’s eye. In the court were ambassadors from all the Twelve Kingdoms, save Mohraya, since Uorsin claimed kingship of that land also.
    â€œOf course, Erich.” Uorsin took on a boisterous mien. “I shall determine the appropriate recompense and give it to the people of Avonlidgh with love and respect.”
    Erich bowed. “You are indeed a great and good High King, but I do not wish to impose. To save you the trouble of casting your mind upon us and our troubles, when you have so many greater tasks to attend to, we have determined the small boons we ask of you.”
    Ursula pretended to be casually scanning the room but caught my eye with a bit of a raised brow. No, I hadn’t known about this plan. She was the type to be included in strategy discussions, not me. Something I’d have to change, if I wanted to be taken seriously.
    â€œPrincess Amelia came among us as a stranger and has become family. She is Avonlidgh’s daughter, in truth. Our heart-daughter. A princess and wife beyond reproach, she inspires the people of Avonlidgh equally with her grace and loveliness. The child she carries in her womb shall be my heir. Thus does joyful news mitigate the terrible and grave.”
    Uorsin barely hid his astonishment, and I felt more than heard Ursula’s impatient sigh. She’d planned for us to tell our father the news in private. But crafty Old Erich had outmaneuvered us. He’d also added a nod in Ursula’s direction, as if offering her his respect despite Uorsin’s rejection.
    The whispers of surprise rippled around the room, growing in volume until they became shouts and cheers. The third generation of Uorsin’s reign was in sight. At Derodotur’s signal, musicians struck up a triumphant and joyful avalanche of sound while everyone shouted Uorsin’s name.
    All accomplishments belong to the High King.
    When the tumult settled, Uorsin had recovered enough to beam at me with paternal joy. So clever of Derodotur to arrange the distraction. My father pulled me into his arms again, and I held my breath, hoping the embrace would not last so long this time. Fortunately he let me go quickly, but kept me under the drape of his arm. Reasserting his role as my father.
    â€œIf the child is a boy, he shall inherit the throne of the High King!” he declared.
    Behind me, Kir shouted praise to Glorianna. I didn’t dare look at Ursula. Somehow this moment wasn’t as sweet as I’d expected. Erich nodded, seeming to agree, applauding with the others. “Avonlidgh shall be gratified to become the seat of the High King,” Erich shouted, and the Avonlidgh contingent cheered.
    â€œMohraya is the seat of the High King. That is how it’s always been.” Uorsin’s powerful voice cut through the cheering. Beside him, Derodotur sidled forward, into the High King’s peripheral vision.
    Erich appeared befuddled. “Always? But you are the first High King. Mohraya has been and continues to be your seat of power. As the patron country of your successor, Avonlidgh will be honored to serve. The High Throne will move to Castle Avonlidgh.”
    Uorsin shrugged Derodotur away. “The only seat of power is here. The child will be born in Castle Ordnung and rule from here—under my hand, until he learns his way.”
    Erich staggered a step, leaning on his valet heavily, appearing devastated.