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The False Heir
Chapter Seventeen; The True Heir

Chapter Seventeen; The True Heir

Morning came and Roskva woke to the bustling sound of the city outside her window. It was nothing like the sound of a farm. A cacophony of shouting and yelling with the rumbling of hundreds of carts and bells tolling. Roskva got out of bed, not missing a single wink of sleep despite being in a strange place. The room she found herself in was beautiful. Bigger than the entire farmhouse altogether. With a crystal chandelier in the center of the room and gauze curtains around the bed big enough to fit a family of four.

Roskva went into the walk-in closet and dressing room. Many outfits had been made and bought for Roskva while they were staring at the palace. Many bright and beautiful gowns that were covered in bows and lace and ruffles and other expensive things. It was all a bit too rich for Roskva’s simple tastes. She picked a simple orange and yellow dress. Dressing and tying a ribbon in her hair. Brushing it carefully into its proper place.

Once ready for the day, Roskva was free to wander the quiet palace halls. No one but the early morning skeleton crew moved around the halls. Staring at Roskva uncertainly but not stopping her from wandering. There were plenty of places to see, but Roskva found themself wandering right back into the portrait hall. Staring at the lost prince. He was so familiar. Roskva’s memory started to turn. Something familiar…

“Dad?” Roskva whispered, barely audibly. Once she said it, the clear memory came back hitting her like a brick wall. She gasped, her knees wobbling and nearly knocking her over. Roskva stumbled back to sit on a bench in the center of the room.

“There you are!” Starkon called, entering the portrait hall. “Still looking at the lost prince? I hope you don’t find him more handsome than me.”

“What? No.” Roskva shook her head. “I think I finally recognized him.”

“You did?” Starkon closed the door behind him walking closer to Roskva. “Where? When?”

“A long time ago.” Roskva stood up shakily. “I think he’s-”

“Your majesty!” A page burst into the room with a crash so loud it drowned out what Roskva was trying to say. Starkon turned with a harsh glare.

“Hold your tongue!” He barked severely. The page stumbled but his fear only lasted a moment.

“Your majesty, a claim to the throne has been made.” The page said breathlessly. Starkon’s glare was wiped off his face.

“What? By who? Has the council been notified?” Starkon left Roskva and stormed toward the door. Roskva followed in interest.

“Yes they have, they are looking through the evidence as we speak.” The page said.

“What?!” Starkon cried in outrage. “Why wasn’t I notified earlier!?”

“They were accompanied by the former Lady Callafon and Captain of the Wolves. They demanded the council as soon as they entered the gates.” The page explained. Roskva had to run to keep up with the fast pace kept by the prince.

“They WHAT?” Starkon was fuming.. He threw the doors open to the great hall where Roskva nearly screamed.

“Aneira!?” Roskva pushed past Starkon to run to their sibling. Stopping when Aneira shrunk back from them.

“Aneira, what are you doing here?” She asked in disbelief.

“You know this person?” Starkon’s voice softened to a stiffness as he came up behind Roskva.

“You must be Roskva, the younger sister.” Bellaire said, stepping forward and curtseying. “Aneira hasn’t stopped talking about you. I am pleased to meet your acquaintance.”

“Really? Aneira’s been talking about me?” Roskva blushed. Smiling at their sibling happily. She turned back to Bellaire. “So, what’s your claim to the throne?” Bellaire laughed and the captain snorted.

“It’s not me. It’s you.” Bellaire said. “Well. Aneira, because they’re older. But you as well, of course.”

“Aneira?” Roskva turned in alarm. Aneira looked at the ground. “How long have you known this?”

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“About a day to be honest.” Aneira said quietly. “It wasn’t until Lady Callafon discovered it.”

“The prince.” Starkon said in epiphany. “The lost prince, the one you recognize!”

“Yes!” Roskva snapped her fingers.

“That was father.” Aneira said. “I swear Roskva, I never knew.”

“It’s okay. I can’t imagine he ever told you.” Roskva said, feeling a sting at the idea her sibling had real memories of their parents.

“This is.” Starkon said, staring between Aneira and Roskva. Bellaire stepped closer to Aneira, holding the hilt of her blade. Generously returned by the captain. “Monumentous!” He held Roskva’s shoulders and smiled as wide as he could.

“It’s truly wonderful that the family is now finally back in its rightful place!” He said grandly. “I am but your humble servant, should the council agree you are the true heir.”

“Don’t trust him.” Bellaire whispered to Aneira. “He’s up to something.” But Roskva smiled and clapped her hands.

“You are wonderful!” She said, turning and hugging him. “This is all like a wonderful magical dream! I’m worried I’m going to wake up!” She held his hand and looked at everyone in the room as if she were afraid they would disappear. He smile fading.

“The farm, our animals!” She said, but Aneira stopped her.

“Don’t worry. I spoke to the Midgleys. They’ve agreed to take care of our land.” They said. Roskva looked at Aneira with tears in their eyes.

“Does this mean I’m a princess now?” She asked.

“Yes it does.” Aneira said. “Happy birthday.” Roskva let out a hysterical laugh.

“I can’t believe it.” She laughed. A loud clap caught the attention of the group. They looked at the council that represented the different parts of the kingdom.

“We have made a decision regarding the claimant.” The speaker of the council announced. Everyone held their breath as the councilman paused. “We cannot deny the legitimacy of the evidence. Aneira of Tyrsande. You are the true heir. And we kneel to your will.” The council bowed which led the captain and Bellaire to bow as well to Aneira. They shifted but stood straight.

“Thank you for your fairness.” They said diplomatically. “I hope I can serve you well.”

“This is incredible!” Starkon, the no longer prince, said. “But may I humbly ask for a favor ur majesty?” He bowed the lowest to Aneira who looked at him suspiciously.

“You may.” They said slowly.

“May I reign for a bit longer? I promised and began planning a grand gala for your sister’s birthday and I wish to remain the prince until midnight of the gala.” He asked. “So I may have the ability to throw a party worthy of a princess.” Roskva swooned though Aneira narrowed their eyes.

“Aneira, Aneira please!?” Roskva clasped ehr hands together and begged. “He’s been so wonderful to me. Please let him, for me?” Aneira’s hard suspicion softened.

“Don’t,” Bellaire whispered. But Aneira sighed.

“Very well. I grant your request.” They said and Roskva cheered. Bellaire sighed.

“That girl is your greatest weakness.” She hissed.

“She’s my sister.” Aneira whispered. “What can I do?”

“I am at your mercy, your majesty.” Starkon said sweetly. Standing straight once again. “Your kindness is beyond measure.”

“If you say so.” Aneira said tiredly. “May we be shown rooms? We drove through the night to arrive as soon as possible and we are rather tired.”

“Of course your majesty.” A page appeared. “Please follow me.”

“Can their room be next to mine?” Roskva fell into step beside their sibling. following the page. Bellaire stared suspiciously at the false heir.

“I will be keeping a very close eye on them.” She promised. Then she followed after the siblings. Starkon’s smile faded. He turned to the captain.

“And what do you have to say?” He asked.

“I serve the throne. Not you.” He said. “If you’ll excuse me.” The captain turned and retired from the grand hall. Leaving the false heir steaming and alone. As well as scheming.

Aneira collapsed on the giant bed, exhausted.

“Isn’t this amazing!” Roskva squealed. Bouncing around. “Your room is wonderful. Mine’s nice too.. Ah! What if we had sleepovers!? Wouldn’t that be awsome!?”

“Roskva, I love you. I really do.” Aneira turned over and smiled. “But can we postpone this conversation? Just for a little bit?”

“Oh, right. Right. You said you were tired, and I should let you sleep.” Roskva smiled bashfully. “But after that, can I show you the portrait hall? Please?”

“Absolutely.” Aneira agreed. Roskva crept out of the room leaving them and Bellaire. Aneira stared at Bellaire expectantly.

“Oh no, I’m staying. Something’s fishy here. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Bellaire said. Aneira sighed. Laying down and rolling away from Bellaire and trying to ignore her and sleep. But the feeling of being watched made their skin crawl.

“Do you have to watch me?” Aneira asked.

“It’s not like I’m staring at you.” Bellaire said with a long yawn. Aneira opened their eyes and turned over. True to her word, Bellaire was nodding off on the sofa and watching the door. Aneira sat up, still feeling unseen eyes on them.

“I’m not going to get any sleep.” Aneira sighed, standing back up. Bellaire fought to her feet.

“Neither am I.” She said stubbornly.

“Let’s see what can be done about breakfast.” Aneira offered and led their seemingly permanent bodyguard back into the hall.