Myles quickly hurried forward, a look of terror on his face. He could rightly assume that young Prince Jonathan was dead. Alanna feebly shook Jon's shoulder. She could not believe that the Black God had measured her and found her unworthy. Her friend Jon was dead. She could not save him. Numbly she noticed Myles's comforting hand on her shoulder. She drew a shuddering breath and sent him to inform the King, as Roald had bidden.
Alanna didn't know how long she sat alone on Jon's bed before a soft knock brought hr out of her paralysis. She looked towards the door, eyes red and tearstained. Gary and Raoul admitted themselves.
"Alan?" Gary quickly strode forward.
"Alan? What happened?" Raoul's face was set with concern.
Alanna couldn't bring herself to speak. She helplessly plucked at Jon's tunic and buried her face in her hands.
"He's dead," she heard Gary conclude softly.
"May the Black God rest his passing," Raoul whispered. His voce was thick with sorrow. Alanna looked up to see both of the boys looking helpless and lost. Raoul sat down next to her as Gary knelt by his cousin. Soon they were joined by the King, Queen, Duke Gareth, and Myles.
The Queen went into a fit of hysterics at the sight of her dead son. Roald went pale and pulled his wife into his arms. The grim reality of the situation hit everyone hard. Jonathan was dead. Roger would become the heir.
________________________________________________________________________
Roger leaned over the railing of the ship as it was coming into Port Caynn's harbor. The salty sea breeze ruffled his dark hair. He had heard the news several days past that his cousin had died. Of course, the Duke had planned for such. Finally, the throne would be his.
At shore he was greeted by Duke Gareth, Lord Martin, and several other important nobles. All were in mourning, and they wore somber black. Roger had donned black clothes just before they sailed into port. Truthfully he could not be more blithe at the prospect of Jonathan's death.
"Hello, Roger," Gareth said solemnly. "How are you feeling?"
Roger put on an expression of regret. "I must admit, my outlook is dreary. It's a horrible thing that has happened."
The others nodded gravely. All were awed in the presence of the Conte Duke.
Once all of Roger's belongings were unloaded and loaded back onto a wagon, the party set off for Corus.
________________________________________________________________________
Roald and Lianne sat together in their suites.
"So you're sure we should make Roger the heir?" Lianne asked timidly.
"It is the law. He is the closest blood relative."
"Well…no. That isn't true. Michael is the rightful heir."
"My darling, Michael and Jonathan are both dead. We must admit to the truth," Roald said sternly. Lianne looked down.
"Of course."
(a/n: I know, this wasn't very good, but DON'T GIVE UP ON ME! I know it seems sorta…predictable, but I will make it good! I promise!
