As a Sword in My Bones

Prologue

"If the Royal Council does nothing to curb my mother's cruelty, the oppressed people of Boldaria will revolt and this nation will be engulfed in a civil war," Prince Tristan Leander warned as he finished speaking before the gathered members of the twelve man Royal Council.

"You speak treason, young man." Lord Windemere stood from his chair and wagged his finger at the young prince. "Who would lead this uprising? You?"

"I oppose violence from either side, which is why I came to you. The Royal Council holds the power to check my mother's abuses." Tristan's research on the Council found Lord Windemere sided with the queen. He was not surprised by the accusation, but did not appreciate it all the same.

"Your Highness, I fear you overestimate the authority of this Council." Lord Applegate spoke with a grim shake of his head. "Perhaps when you are of age to be crowned king you can affect the changes you seek yourself."

Lord Applegate was the leader of the Council and, as far as Tristan had been able to discern, shared his dread of the impact of the queen's abuse of power.

Why will he not stand against her? Tristan wondered, clenching his fists at his side. A word from him could sway many members of this Council.

"How many more people will you allow her to kill in the year that remains until I am crowned?" Tristan demanded as his eyes raked the group of men. His gaze locked withLord Blakemore's. Lord Blakemore was the same age Tristan's own father would have been, and was rumored to be a member of the resistance himself. Surely he would stand against the queen.

Lord Blakemore only scowled as he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest.

"I am sorry, Your Highness," Lord Applegate responded. He gestured to the men sitting on either side of him. "I do not see how we can do anything. Your mother's power is too great."

They fear her, Tristan realized as he took a stunned step back. Even the twelve most influential men in the kingdom did not dare oppose her publicly. "Then you had all better pray my coronation comes before she pushes the people too far." He whirled on his heels and stormed from the Council chamber.

"How did it go?" Lucas Medellin asked from where he stood leaning against the front of the building. He pushed off of the wall and scrambled to keep up as Tristan stomped past. "Not well, I gather."

"They will do nothing but wait until I am crowned." Tristan stopped in the street and turned to face his best friend. "But will the people put up with my mother's harsh rule that long?"

"They have put up with it for nearly twenty years," Lucas said with a shrug, "one more will hardly make a difference. Especially when they know they have you to look forward to as king."

"Some king I will be." Tristan raked his fingers through his black hair. "I could not even sway the opinions of twelve men, how can I rule a nation?"

"There are those of us who are concerned you will even survive to be crowned in the first place," Lucas said under his breath. "Your meeting with the Council would be enough to put your life at risk, but when you consider what I learned today..." His expression was dark with worry as he continued, "Must you return to the palace tonight? I fear it is not safe."

"Not safe?" Tristan raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Surely you do not believe my mother would retaliate against her own son?"

"Yes, actually, that is precisely what I believe." Lucas rubbed the back of his neck. "How much do you know about how your father died?"

"He became ill shortly before I was born," Tristan replied. He narrowed his eyes as he tried to determine how his father's death twenty years earlier could worry his friend today. "Your father did everything he could, but even his skill could not save him."