The rejected crown (book 1)

Sons of the true crown

Edweyn

The cool night air wrapped around Edweyn like a shroud as he stepped out of the brothel, the weight of the past few hours pressing down on him. The dim lanterns that lined the street flickered, casting pale light on the cobblestones beneath his feet. He had walked into the brothel to escape, to find a fleeting moment of peace in the arms of Arin. But now, as the night deepened and his boots clicked against the stones, the weight of his duties and his unresolved loyalties came crashing back.

Five years ago, Giovanna had been the future. She had been the heir, the one he had pledged himself to. She was to restore the kingdom to its former glory, to lead with justice and honor. But that was before the accusation of treason, before the whispers in the court, and before her exile. She had been banished, branded a traitor for her defiance against the crown's orders, for protecting the witches—those whom King Richard had condemned. The very witches Edweyn had asked her to save.

He had once believed in her cause, in her. But now, the more he heard of her name being raised by rebels and whispered in hushed tones, the more confused he became. No one had seen her in years. No one knew where she was. All that remained were the banners, the loyalty of those still fighting in her name. And yet, Edweyn couldn't help but feel a stirring of something deep inside—a memory of the young woman she had once been, a leader who had stood against the tyranny of Richard's reign.

"Ser Edweyn."

The voice broke his thoughts. He looked up to see a soldier standing before him, urgency in his posture. The night was quiet around them, the camp barely stirring as soldiers prepared for the dawn march.

"The captain's summoned you, sir," the soldier said. "It's about the front."

Edweyn nodded without a word, following the soldier through the darkened encampment. The campfires cast long shadows as they passed, the air thick with the scent of smoke and the murmurs of men preparing for war. The tension in the air was palpable, the weight of the coming battle pressing on every soldier's shoulders.

They arrived at the low wall where Robert stood, his eyes scanning the map before him. The captain's face was creased with worry, his eyes reflecting the same burden that weighed on Edweyn's heart.

"Robert," Edweyn greeted, his voice still rough from the night's confusion. "What's the news?"

Robert's gaze shifted slowly to meet Edweyn's, his expression hard. "They've pushed further west," he said, his voice low. "And more are rallying to their cause. Those eastern lords—they're calling themselves the 'Sons of the True Crown,' raising banners for Princess Giovanna. They say she's the only one who can restore honor to the kingdom. The people believe in her, even if they've never seen her since she was exiled."

Edweyn's jaw tightened. He had heard the whispers, the rumors. They had spread like wildfire in the years since Giovanna's exile, and now, with every passing day, more and more believed in her return. But they were all just rumors—Giovanna was a ghost. She hadn't been seen since the day Richard's men forced her into exile. Yet still, the banners rose, and the people followed.

"I haven't seen her since before her trial," Edweyn said, his voice thick with a mix of bitterness and guilt. "She hasn't been seen by anyone. She's a shadow, a memory of what we hoped for."

Robert's eyes narrowed, as if weighing his words carefully. "But they still believe in her, Edweyn. They still believe she is the one who can save the kingdom. Maybe it's madness, maybe it's faith, but you can't deny that the people are rising for her."

Edweyn turned away slightly, his gaze distant. "They don't know what they're fighting for. Giovanna's exile was her fault, yes, but it was because of what she did—what she protected. She was accused of treason for saving the witches from excution. And you know, Robert, I was the one who asked her to do it. I was the one who asked her to protect them."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and painful. Edweyn had been the one to tell Giovanna that the witches, those who had once been hunted and feared, needed her help. She had done it out of duty, out of compassion. But that act of defiance had cost her everything. And now, as Edweyn stood there, torn between his loyalty to the crown and the lingering faith he still held in Giovanna, the past seemed to bleed into the present.

"Richard's made sure the kingdom believes she's a traitor," Edweyn said quietly. "He's used her actions to justify his rule. He's burned her name into the people's minds, made it synonymous with rebellion."

Robert exhaled, his eyes dark with the weight of the situation. "And yet, the men still question. We're loyal to the crown, yes, but can we keep serving a king who has sold our oaths for power and blood? We're fighting for Richard's crown, but not for the kingdom. The kingdom is dying under his rule, and the people remember Giovanna. They remember the leader she was—what she stood for."

Edweyn's chest tightened as the old familiar feelings rose again. He had sworn an oath to Richard, had fought at his command through countless battles. But Robert was right. The kingdom was a shell of what it had been. Fear ruled the people's hearts, and gold had replaced loyalty. What was this kingdom worth if it was led by a king who had abandoned it?

"I can't just walk away from my oath," Edweyn murmured, more to himself than to Robert. "Giovanna was a promise, a hope for something better. But that was before she was exiled, before she took up arms against the throne. Now, she is the enemy."

As the words left his mouth, a voice interrupted, cold and biting.

"Then what will you do when her army is at the gates, Ser Edweyn?"

Edweyn turned sharply, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his sword. Aaron, a young soldier who had once been his squire, stood there with fire in his eyes—a fire Edweyn hadn't seen in him before. Aaron had changed over the years, his innocence lost to the harsh realities of war.

"Will you fight her, Ser Edweyn? Will you raise your sword against the princess you once swore to protect?" Aaron's voice trembled with a mix of anger and disbelief. "Will you call yourself loyal after all that's happened? After all you've seen?"

Edweyn's fists clenched at his sides. "Watch your tongue, aaron," he warned, his voice low and controlled. "You may question, but do not mistake your bitterness for wisdom."

But Aaron didn't back down. His eyes were fierce, his voice heavy with the truth. "You taught me what honor is, Edweyn. You taught me to fight for a kingdom worth saving. But now, I'm wondering—what kingdom are we saving? Where is the honor in serving a king who would rather burn the kingdom than listen to its people?"

The words struck harder than Edweyn was willing to admit. His chest ached as he stared at Aaron, the weight of his own guilt and confusion closing in. Where was the honor? Where was the kingdom?

"I taught you to protect the kingdom," Edweyn said, his voice rough with the weight of the years. "Giovanna was exiled for treason. She raises arms against Richard. And I swore an oath to Richard."

Aaron scoffed, his expression hard. "And what is loyalty if it's blind, Ser Edweyn? When do we fight for the kingdom, and not for a throne?"

Before Edweyn could respond, Robert stepped in, his hand on aaron's shoulder. "Enough, lad. Go."

Aaron hesitated for a moment, his gaze never leaving Edweyn's, before he turned and disappeared into the night. Robert let out a sigh, his gaze weary as he looked at Edweyn. "He's not the only one asking those questions. You know that."

Edweyn closed his eyes, the turmoil of the past and present swirling in his mind. Five years ago, he had believed in Giovanna. He had believed in her ability to lead, to restore the kingdom. Now, as the banners of rebellion rose once more in her name, he wasn't so sure.

"I don't have answers anymore," Edweyn said quietly, his voice heavy. "But we ride tomorrow. There's word of a rebel camp to the east. Perhaps we can push them back—buy ourselves more time to figure out what comes next."

Robert's gaze was filled with doubt. "Or delay the inevitable?"

Edweyn didn't answer. Instead, he turned toward the east, where the storm of war was waiting to break. Somewhere, far beyond the reach of his duty, Giovanna's name was being raised again. And Edweyn, lost between loyalty to the crown and the lingering echo of the woman he once believed in and maybe even loved, couldn't help but wonder if the kingdom he had fought for was already gone.