Page 1 of The Forgotten Prince
1
Surrounded by the spoilage of yet another day’s battle—fourteen empty ewers, a stack of soiled platters, breadcrumbs, drained goblets, tapers burnt to the nubs—there was still no progress, no assent, and no additional confirmations for the konsel. Much to Gwendolyn’s frustration, this task was proving to be more onerous than it should have been, considering the dearth of eligible candidates.
Of the twelve aldermen who’d once served under her father, only four returned to resume their duties. The rest were all presumed dead, murdered by the apostates who’d deposed King Corineus.
Naturally, Morgelyn, Petroc, Merryn, and Crwys would continue to serve, and Caradoc, Kelan, and Lir would join them. But those were the simple choices—Caradoc, because in Gwendolyn’s absence, he would be called upon to lead; Kelan, because he came with experience after serving on his father’s konsel; and Lir, because as a Druid, he was already a lawful arbiter of this land.
A few days ago, one minor victory: After much discourse, they had also agreed to accept Taryn, a woman, to the konsel, only because Gwendolyn had insisted they must include a Durotrigan representative, and every Durotrigan elder was dead. Taryn, like Kelan, Gwendolyn had argued, came with experience, many thanks to her father. Beryan gave his life to save Gwendolyn’s, and it was her wish to honor him.
That was where all accord ended, and disputations began.
Day after day, after day, after day…
All the shouting made Gwendolyn’s head ache.
First Caradoc, then Crwys, back to Taryn, then to Morgelyn, back to Petroc, now to Merryn—one after another and another, no one prepared to concede, each with an agenda, and everyone ready to argue against every candidate put forth.
Sadly, neither Málik’s nor Bryn’s silence was helpful—Bryn because he held some ambivalence where Gwendolyn was concerned, and Málik quite simply because he was present. Gwendolyn was careful to acknowledge him as little as possible. To some, there would be only one thing worse than a queen cuckolding her husband, and that would be for her to cuckold him with an “Elf.”
Unlike Lir, not everyone was so enamored by Fae.
Closing her eyes, Gwendolyn pinched the bridge of her nose between a finger and thumb, listening to the clash of voices—as violent in their conflict as weapons of war.
Never once had she envied her father his seat on this konsel, nor, until recently, had she aspired to rule on her own. But never had she an inkling how burdensome it might be to manage a gripe of old men—although, truth be told, some were not men, and some not so old. Gwendolyn was tempted to allow them to settle this dispute on their own—preferably after her departure—but bearing in mind there was no guarantee she would return; it was crucial they fill these remaining seats. Indeed, the last time she’d found herself idle at this table, her silence had won her a mountain of grief. On that day so long ago, while these aldermen sat discussing her wedding to Loc, instead of speaking up like a grown woman should—as a leader should—she’d sat, dreaming all the while these graybeards argued like fishwives.
As they were doing right now.
But woe to them, unlike her mother, Gwendolyn had no artifice for negotiations. And finally, she’d had enough. “I choose Ely,” she said, silencing the lot for the blink of an eye.
All gazes turned to her. But that’s as long as the reprieve lasted. The declaration sent everyone into another shrieking match, wielding censure and protests like hammers and swords.
“This one aside,” said Caradoc, flicking two fingers in Taryn’s direction, rather rudely dismissing his Durotrigan counterpart. “No woman has ever held an alderman’s seat. Must you now appoint two?”
Taryn was quick to defend herself. “If anyone should not serve here, Catuvellaunian, it should be you!”
To no one’s surprise, Caradoc ignored her. But that, too, vexed Gwendolyn.
As a woman, Taryn’s presence in this konsel might defy convention, but she was as capable as these men—perhaps more so. As a Durotrigan, her interests were more aligned with Gwendolyn’s meanwhile Caradoc’s were Catuvellaunian. But because the statutes of the Brothers’ Pact governed this konsel—not the king, queen, or overlord—so long as all twelve seats were committed, there would remain a balance of power. However, with four seats remaining, and the military power favoring Caradoc, they still needed appointees and perhaps at least one dissenting voice who would carry sway with Caradoc’s son. Ely’s father was Durotrigan born, she Dumnoni raised, her husband Catuvellaunian—she was the perfect choice.
“Will you question my leadership?” Gwendolyn asked the Catuvellauni chieftain. “I too am a woman,” she reminded him.
“Nay,” he said, though his body language belied his denial. He sat forward, his arms extended across the table, where every so oft he would slam a fist and rattle the dishes. “I am only suggesting there is no need to burden the poor girl more than she is already—newlywed and grieving?” He shook his head. “Ely works too hard as it is! Last night my son ate cold gruel. Why should we include the poor girl when I have good men in the Cods Wold who would gladly answer my summons?”
“Your summons, your men?” Gwendolyn replied.
It wasn’t an accusation. She simply wanted him to know she did not consider it to her advantage. A man would not mince words; neither would she.
As for Ely, it was true; she was working hard. Gwendolyn appreciated everything she was doing, but this would also give her a voice to accomplish more of what she wished to do, instead of begging this konsel for support, as her own mother was forced to do.
Caradoc’s dark eyes glinted as sharply as his tongue. “Good men, regardless,” he groused, and his gaze rounded the table, seeking support, settling upon his son.
Much to Gwendolyn’s surprise, Kelan averted his gaze—perhaps because the appointee in question was his very own wife.
Gwendolyn smiled.
She would be lying if she said she wasn’t counting on this.
Despite knowing this was the right thing to do, she couldn’t leave a former enemy with the keys to her city without also leaving him with a konsel willing and able to oppose him. Ely would serve as a voice of reason. Even if Kelan wasn’t persuaded to oppose his father, Gwendolyn had already determined he was devoted to his wife and he would respect her enough to allow her to vote her heart.