The Rivaled Crown (The Veiled Kingdom, #3)

by Holly Renee

“The council is meant to make decisions for this rebellion. Not him alone.” I looked over each of them. There were only two left who hadn’t spoken, and one of them had been one of Mother’s closest friends. The only one who didn’t bow to my father. Liya. I let my gaze settle on her as I spoke. “My mother would be ashamed of what we’ve become. She would be outraged that her death had meant nothing.” I let my words sink in hard as her gaze shuddered, but I didn’t look away. “Help me save my mate, and it will not be for nothing. Help me save my mate, and I will help us win this war.”

“This is a risk, but it is one we have to take,” Liya finished. Eiran let out a low curse, shoving away from the table. “This is a mistake.” “And you are not on the council,” she corrected him. “If your father is unable to vote then we will do so without him.”

“There isn’t a single member of this council who would vote against the possibility of saving our people in a way we have fought for, for years.” She turned back to my father, and she didn’t look away from him as she said the next words. “And if Camellia were here, she would remind you that our children are why we fight. Her children are why she was willing to sacrifice everything.” My father stiffened, but his chest heaved. Liya looked at me carefully. “You think Elis, your grandmother, followed your mother into this rebellion blindly? Why do you think she stays in that damned city.”

After all this time, my grandmother had never moved to the hidden city, she had been unwilling to leave the capital. “Your grandmother was not from Marmoris, Dacre. She came here as a young woman, a handmaiden to the princess of Veyrith. The princess to the last kingdom that stood against Verena’s father.”

Interesting!!

“She served Verena’s mother,” Liya continued, her voice steady. “And she watched firsthand as the King of Marmoris burned her kingdom to the ground.” My stomach twisted. “This was never just our war, your mother’s war,” Liya whispered. “It was your grandmother’s too.” She paused, and nobody said a word. “And it is Verena’s.”

Wow!!

“All those in favor?” Her voice rang out, and I watched as four hands raised in the air, all except for Eiran and my father. But I didn’t need either of their votes. “We will move before the next moon.” Liya looked away from my father, shaking her head. “You will take us to the tunnels, then the real war begins.”

Woohoo!! Go get Verena!!

She swallowed hard, and her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “I had loved your father, and I had believed in him. Until it was too late.” The truth struck like lightning. “You were…” I swallowed. She let out a slow, shuddering breath. “The King of Veyrith,” she whispered, ”was my father.” Everything inside me went still. The world around me blurred, the glow of the vessel suddenly too bright, too sharp. I staggered back. “No,” I choked. I had grown up hearing tales of Veyrith, whispered bedtime stories that she would tell me of a make-believe world that thrived and flourished. She would tell of their people, of their lore, and all that time, I hadn’t known. My mother had been their princess. “Veyrith is real?” I asked, although I knew the truth; it hummed inside me, leaving no room for doubt. “It was.” She nodded, but her eyes shuddered. “But that land was long ago turned to ash, its people a sacrifice my father never agreed to make.”

Verena’s mom

“He married you to take Veyrith’s vessel,” I whispered. She nodded. “I loved your father, and I think a small part of him had loved me too. But his greed was more powerful than anything we ever had.” She looked away from me, glancing down at the vessel. “After we were married, I was bound to him, bound to this kingdom. And he didn’t falter in showing me who he truly was. He killed my father.” Every ounce of longing and sadness disappeared from her voice as it was replaced with anger. “He killed him before he drained our vessel until there was nothing left of Veyrith. The land I loved became void of magic, and without it, the rivers slowed until the water dried up, the crops withered, and with them so did our people.”

Her fingers trailed back and forth over the edge of the vessel. “My home was turned to ash, and this is the final vessel that remains.”

“You could have left,” I whispered. “You could have run.” Her eyes softened. “No, my love.” She reached out, her fingertips brushing the air between us. ”I stayed because of you.”

“When I saw your power, when I realized what you were, I knew I had to protect you.” Her hands trembled. “You were so young the first time you siphoned, younger than most discover their power. I was hiding behind your drapes as you looked for me. I could hear your little giggle, but then I felt it, the moment you got scared. You couldn’t find me, and before I could tell you where I was, your power found me for you.” “I don’t remember…” “You were too young.” She smiled. “But the moment I realized what happened, that I realized the amount of power that flowed within your tiny body, I knew that your father could never know.”

“So, I hid it.” I sucked in a sharp breath. “You cursed me.” “I protected you,” she said fiercely. “I did what the queens of Veyrith have done for generations.”

“Why? Why would the queens need to hide their power?” She exhaled and searched my face. “Because Veyrith was a kingdom of balance. Of magic. Of power. And where there is power, there is always someone who seeks to take it.”

“The queens of Veyrith were not just rulers. They were guardians of magic itself before magic turned against our lands and the kings sought to fix it. It ran through our blood, deep and untamed. And that power, if left unchecked, could be twisted, manipulated.” I shivered, thinking of my father, of what he had done. “So they hid it?” “They did more than that.”

“The queens of Veyrith wove a protection into the very bloodline of their daughters. A spell as old as the vessels themselves. It was meant to shield us, but that spell became watered down with time. Just as everything does. Our magic weakened, it became angry, and the very magic that had sustained us began turning against us all.”

“You are not just the daughter of Marmoris, Verena. You are a daughter of Veyrith, the last daughter, and I bound your power to protect you. I bound your magic so it wouldn’t awaken until you found safety in someone who wanted you to have power, but did not wish to use it.”

Wow

“I had already lost Veyrith. I would not lose you, too.” My throat tightened. “And now?” I whispered. “Now that this protection is broken?” Pain flickered through her gaze. “Now, my love,” she murmured, ”your father will do everything in his power to claim you as his own. He will do the very thing that our magic rioted against that forced the kings to bind it to the vessels in the first place.”

“The tithe was never meant to be a tool for power,” she said. “It was meant to restore the balance within our magic, to pay the price for what we had destroyed. We gave back to our magic, to the vessels, but your father…he has twisted it.” A shiver ran through me, but I forced myself to ask, “How?”

“The vessel feeds on sacrifice, the magic had demanded it,” she explained. “For years, the people of all five kingdoms gave willingly to the vessels, and the vessels gave back to our kingdoms in return.”

“But to wield it is something else entirely. It angered the magic, forced its rage to ravish through our lands, and first, the people of Veyrith paid for your father’s greed. But now, it will take Marmoris. It will take him.”

“You must surrender something of yourself to wield it as your father has done. A piece of your soul. A piece of your life.” I swallowed hard. “Then how has he used it for so long.” “He has stolen what he cannot afford to give. Each tithe, the people of Marmoris suffer. They are drained, their magic stripped far more than they are willing to give, their lives shortened. But even that isn’t enough.”

“He realized too late,” she continued, “that he could not stop.” “I don’t understand.” I shook my head, trying to grasp what she was saying. “Stop what?” She met my gaze. “Dying.”

“He siphoned from the vessel because he thought he could control it, but it has been devouring him from the inside out. His magic is not his own, it is borrowed, stolen, temporary. And now, it is running out.”

“He needs an heir.” Her gaze softened as she studied me. “The vessel will not bind itself to just anyone. He needs someone powerful. He needs a siphon.”

“If I bind to it,” I whispered, “if he forces me to take his place…” “The vessel is corrupted.” Her voice was pained. “It is angry, and I fear that it will never find balance again. It will run through you as it does him, and it will take from you.”

“No.” “It will demand sacrifice,” she whispered. “It will hunger.”

“In the other kingdoms, in Veyrith, were the kings bound to the vessels there?” “No.” She stepped closer, her hand brushing over mine. “But those vessels have been gone for many, many years, and your father, his greed, has turned the vessel into a weapon. He’s turned it into a curse.”

“He has already given too much of himself,” she murmured. “And now the vessel is tied to him, it feeds off him, drains him, makes him desperate. But your father is no fool. He has been searching for a way to free himself from its grasp without losing what it has given him.”

”The vessel will not simply let him go. It will not release him willingly after all that has been done.”

“To sever the bond, he must tether it to someone else. A willing sacrifice cannot be forced. That was the original magic of the vessels, a kingdom willingly giving, bowing before the magic. But your father has found ways to twist even that.”

“I will never willingly take his place.” Her fingers clenched into a fist. “That is why he has spent so many years trying to break you.”

I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady the erratic beat of my heart. “And if I am bound to it?” Her gaze faltered. “Then you will be as he is.”

“The vessel’s hunger will become your own,” she whispered. “You will feel it inside you, pressing against your ribs, sinking into your bones. You will crave magic. Crave power. And if you do not take it, if you do not siphon from others, you will wither.”

“You will be stronger than you have ever imagined,” she continued. “You will feel it thrumming beneath your skin, a limitless well of magic at your fingertips. But it will never belong to you.” Her voice grew quieter. ”And the vessel does not share.”

“What do you mean?” She turned to face me fully. “It will not let you leave. It will not let you disobey.” I shook my head violently. “No⁠—” “Your father controls the vessel because he has fed it for years. But if you take his place, you will be something different. The vessel will crave you. It will crave your power, your sacrifice, and your father will use that against you.”

“If you are bound to it, he will have power over you, Verena. He will never fully break his bond, and you will become the conduit between him and the vessel’s power. He will not need to force you to obey, your own body will betray you.”

“No,” I whispered. “No, I won’t.”

”There is a prophecy. It has been whispered through centuries, hidden in the bones of Veyrith. Your father fears it. He has buried it, burned it, tried to erase it. Just as he has erased history, erased the traces of what he has done.”

“What does it say?” I begged, reaching for her. “What does the prophecy say?” Her lips parted and her eyes softened as she took me in one last time. “You are a siphon, Vee, but you are also a daughter of Veyrith. There is power there.”

“What power?” I frantically asked as I tried to reach for her, desperately tried to cling to another moment. “Trust the tides, darling girl. They always know when to rise.”

The bookshelf across the room, the gilded spines of ancient tomes that had been there all my life catching the flickering candlelight. But one was missing. A gap sat between two books, an empty space where something should have been.

Chill bumps rushed over my skin as I slowly dropped to my knees and reached for the book with trembling hands. The moment my fingers brushed the cover, a sharp pulse of something cold and ancient curled through me. I flinched but didn’t pull away. Instead, I turned it over in my hands, my heart thundering as I read the faded lettering on the cover. Veyrith. My mother had read it to me as a child, a collection of myths and old stories passed down through the ages, a book I once believed to be a mere fairy tale. But it was a book from her own childhood, her home. It was a history buried beneath metaphor, hidden in poetry, and on the inside of the cover, scrawled in elegant ink, was a note in my mother’s handwriting.

If you have found this, then it is already beginning. Read the words. Find in them the truth.

When shadow swallows the golden throne, And rivers run dry where magic has flown., The cursed shall rise with fate-bound hands, A tethered soul to shifting sands. Born of ruin, blood, and war, Bound to take yet cursed to mourn. The tideborn’s gift, bound in chain, To break the bond or bind again.

The Prophecy

Torrin walked beside me, his distrust an almost tangible thing. His hand never strayed far from the hilt of his sword, his narrowed gaze flicking to me at every shift of my footing. He might have been a councilman, but he was a soldier first. One who was loyal to my father, and he wasn’t alone. Liya moved a few steps ahead, her pace measured and steady. Unlike the others, she didn’t keep a hand on her weapon or cast me wary glances, but she was here all the same. Watching. Weighing every decision I made. She had been the only one who spoke for me in the council chamber, the only one willing to defy my father, but that didn’t mean she trusted me. Three other men flanked us, their stiff postures betraying their unease. These weren’t just nameless warriors; they were men I had fought alongside, men who once followed me without question. Now, they watched me as if I were the enemy.

She moved next to me, her shoulders taut, her hands flexing at her sides as if she was moments away from reaching for her dagger. Her head was high, her expression unreadable, but I knew her well enough to see the battle raging beneath her cool exterior. She had fought for this. The moment we left the council chamber, Wren had been there. She had faced the council head-on, yelled at my father before anyone else could speak as she stood in front of me, guarding me from the very people we had always thought would protect us. She had not been allowed to leave the hidden city since they had dragged us back, ever since the ambush, and she was not permitted to visit me at the cells. I hadn’t been able to stop the small smile that curled on my lips when she slammed her finger into my father’s chest and demanded that if he was going to treat her like a prisoner than he should lock her up at my side. Her body had trembled as she had yelled, and I could see the weight she was carrying, the way she had thought she had failed. I had been able to see it in Kai’s eyes as well, when he leaned against the wall and simply allowed Wren to tear into the council, into my father. It had been Liya who finally stopped her, who had told her the plan as Kai wrapped his hands around Wren’s shoulders and pulled her back from our furious father. They would be accompanying me to the palace, accompanying me in saving Verena, and Wren’s eyes slammed into mine when those words slipped past Liya’s lips.

“You’d better not be lying about the tunnel,” he finally said, his voice laced with suspicion he had no chance of hiding. I clenched my jaw. “I’m not.” “Convenient, isn’t it?” A sneer twisted on his lips. “That the king’s daughter just happened to confide in you.” I stopped walking as a quiet, simmering anger curled inside me. I had expected the council’s doubt, expected their distrust, but hearing the accusation out loud settled like iron in my stomach. “She isn’t just the king’s daughter. Not just the heir.” My voice was low and steady, but I could feel the weight of Wren’s and Kai’s attention shifting toward me. “She’s my mate, and you’re the one who agreed to come with us, Torrin.” Torrin narrowed his gaze, but he didn’t stop walking. “You can dress it up however you want, boy, but that doesn’t change what she is. I came because we need this tunnel. If you don’t know where it is, I’ll⁠—” “What will you do?” Wren cut in, her voice sharp, clipped, lethal.

“Go ahead,” she continued, tilting her head slightly, her expression more deadly than I had ever seen it before. “Tell me exactly what it is you’ll do to my brother. The man who has fought for this rebellion while my father and the rest of you have been blinded by your own greed.”

“No?” When she got no response, she scoffed. “That’s what I thought.” “Wren.” It was Liya who spoke then, Wren’s name a tense, gentle warning, but not one that she was willing to heed. My sister stared down Torrin a long moment before she finally turned on her heel. The group fell into silence after that, but the tension didn’t falter.

We were close to the city edge now, close enough that I could feel my own trepidation snaking up my spine. It had been roughly two hours since we left the hidden city, the same two hours that we had traveled many times before to get here. To the right was the familiar path we would have taken into the capital, and they paused as I led them left.