Traveling with Karigan was decidedly more pleasant than traveling alone, Zachary decided. After staying the first two nights in inns, they reached a section of road with few places to stay and ended up camping out most nights. Zachary found that in many ways, he actually preferred camping. With no one around except Karigan and his two most trusted Weapons, he felt more free to be himself than he had in years. He and Karigan spent many nights sitting by the fire talking, working out details for his upcoming disappearance as well as simply sharing stories of their childhoods. He was more comfortable in her presence than he had ever been around anyone else; even with Laren, who was his closest friend, he maintained some distance. He could truly see himself spending the rest of his life with Karigan, a prospect that thrilled him.

As they neared Sacor City, the road became more populated, and Zachary knew their time camping was coming to an end, for there would be plenty of places to stay for the last part of the journey. On their last night camping, he and Karigan stayed up far later than they probably should have, relishing what would likely be their last chance to be together away from prying eyes. Fastion woke him the next morning rather roughly, grinning when he noted the dark circles under the young prince's eyes as he attempted to suppress a yawn. Zachary glared at the faithful Weapon who had been protecting him since his adolescence, but Fastion's grin merely grew wider. "Late night last night, my lord?" he questioned innocently.

"I will be ready to ride in half an hour."

"You should probably tell your Green Rider that. Last I heard, she was cursing Breccan when he tried to wake her."

"She's not my Green Rider," Zachary objected, pushing himself to his feet.

"Truthfully, my lord, we're both happy for you," Fastion told him, his face losing some of its teasing. Zachary gave him a small smile in return, rubbing his eyes as he attempted to locate his shirt. Fastion started to duck out of the tent, but he could not resist one last barb. "Though I am not sure that Breccan will still be happy once your Green Rider is done with him." Zachary gave Fastion another glare as the Weapon left.

Once Zachary dressed, he relieved Breccan of his duty waking Karigan. Slipping into her tent, he knelt beside her and placed a long, lingering kiss to her lips. She stirred awake, blinking sleepily as her eyes focused on his face. "Zachary?"

"I hope that no one else wakes you up that way," he remarked jovially. She blushed slightly. "You have about half an hour to get ready to leave. I'm hoping to be near the city by nightfall."

She nodded. "I will be out shortly for breakfast."

Despite Zachary's and Karigan's fatigue, they made good time that day and reached an inn not far from Sacor City before the sun fully sank below the horizon. Without any discussion needed, Karigan let Zachary take Condor to the stable as she walked into the inn to secure them rooms. They ate dinner together, but Zachary bade Karigan a reluctant goodnight as soon as they had finished eating. They both needed a good night's sleep, and it would not be a good idea to draw attention to themselves by staying up late talking.

They parted at the stables outside the Palace the next day. As the stablehands rushed forward to take the mounts from Zachary and his Weapons, he muttered to Karigan, "I will meet you tonight at eighth bell in the northeast corner of the gardens." She nodded, giving him a tight smile before slipping away to take care of Condor herself. Steeling himself for the upcoming conversation, Zachary nodded to his Weapons and strode toward the castle.

He made his way immediately to his father's study, and one of the Weapons posted outside checked with Amigast before beckoning Zachary inside. Fastion and Breccan moved to the wall as well, acknowledging their fellow Weapons with curt nods. Zachary closed his eyes briefly before stepping into the study, kneeling immediately before his father's desk. "I came as quickly as I could," he told the floor. He thought about adding something more, but none of the words that came to mind seemed appropriate. What did one say to a father he rarely saw and loved more because he felt it a duty than out of any true affection?

"Rise," Amigast told him. Zachary did as he asked and looked up at his father for the first time since entering the room. Only years of practice kept a frown from creasing Zachary's face. Zachary had expected his father to look sick, for the wasting sickness was not kind to the afflicted, but he had not expected just how sick Amigast would look. Dark circles seemed to leave his eyes in shadows, and his face was gaunt, his cheeks sunken so much that Zachary could see every curve of the bones beneath the skin. His mantle hung from his frame loosely, and Zachary wondered if he even had enough muscle to stand. "You made good time."

"Yes." Silence hung in the air again until Zachary finally ventured, "Is there anything I can do for you, Father?"

Amigast's laughter was harsh in the enclosed space. "I'm dying, Zachary. There is nothing anyone can do to stop that." Amigast studied his youngest son for a few moments, and Zachary felt himself unconsciously stand straighter beneath his gaze, a habit from childhood that he had never broken. He forced himself to meet his father's gaze, expecting to see the familiar censure there, but this time, there seemed to be something else in Amigast's dark brown eyes. From anyone else, Zachary may have called it approval. However, it disappeared almost as soon as it had appeared, and Zachary guessed it had just been a result of the sickness, a conclusion Amigast confirmed when he nodded curtly and turned his attention to a stack of papers on his desk. "Many of the other Lord Governors are still traveling. I would have liked to wait for everyone to arrive, but I am afraid that may not be possible. We should have a quorum the day after tomorrow at which point I will call a meeting to discuss future planning. I expect you to be in attendance."

"Of course, Father."

"I hope it does not need saying, but I need you to support your brother unconditionally. That is the most important thing to remember."

"Yes, Father." Zachary held Amigast's gaze for a few moments longer. It seemed almost as if Amigast were waiting on him to say something else, but Zachary had nothing else to say. Even if Amigast did not know the details of the torture Amilton inflicted on Zachary, he knew of it. He was well aware of what he was asking of his younger son—and also aware that Zachary would obey despite the difficulty.

"Dismissed," Amigast finally said. With a final bow, Zachary left the room.

Zachary spent the afternoon settling into his quarters in the Palace before deciding to take a walk to clear his head. He briefly considered walking by the Rider Quarters in hopes of catching Karigan, but he dismissed the idea. For one, he was sure Karigan was busy giving her report and recovering from her ride. For another, they had never discussed how public they wanted to be with their courtship, and Zachary sensed Karigan would not be pleased if a bunch of Riders found out accidentally.

Zachary had a servant bring dinner to him in his quarters. While he was sure his father had opened the formal dining hall to feed the multitude of people who would be arriving in the next few days, Zachary did not feel like eating among the other nobles. He had always been rather shy around others, and though he had managed to conquer his shyness somewhat and gain some respect from the other nobles, he still did not like being around them for long periods of time. In addition, he knew Amilton would be there, and he was not quite sure if he was ready to face his brother. Instead, he spent the meal going over some notes he had brought with him for the upcoming budget discussions, a common habit for he typically worked if he was dining alone. As he flipped one of the pages, however, he suddenly paused, eyes widening as he realized that he would never get a chance to discuss the Hillander budgets again. The food he had just eaten sat heavily in his stomach, and he pushed away the papers, suddenly not hungry anymore. While he had known he was not going back to Hillander again, he had been so focused on his plans for escape that he had not fully considered exactly what that would mean.

He called for a servant to clear the table, pacing restlessly around his study as he considered what to do next. His usual method of throwing himself into his work would simply remind him of what he was about to lose, and he was not ready to face that reminder just yet. Instead, he shrugged into his coat and strode out of his office, intending to walk around the gardens and clear his head for a bit before he met Karigan.

He had his emotions mostly under control by the time he saw Karigan's familiar form, but as soon as she gave him a small smile, he felt them bubbling to the surface again. Something about her was so disarming that he felt compelled to unburden himself to her immediately, but he suppressed the urge. She did not deserve that. She deserved so much better, better than he could ever give her. He found himself wondering why she had even agreed to court him.

Before his thoughts spiraled too far out of control, he stood, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to it. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it. "What's wrong?" she asked, frowning.

He startled a moment and answered her cautiously. "Nothing is wrong. I just saw my father earlier today, and it made all of this suddenly more real." She nodded, studying his face.

"There's something else, too."

His eyebrows rose. Since when was she so perceptive? He supposed the late night conversations had helped her to know him better than he had expected. He let out a long breath. "Even before my father's sickness, time spent with him was stressful. Now that he's sick, I can't help but think about how it should be." Her brow furrowed in puzzlement.

"How it should be?"

"My father is dying," he spat out, harsher than he intended. Her eyes widened slightly, but to her credit, she did not back away from him. "I was sitting in that office with him, looking at how thin he was, and I felt. . . nothing. Perhaps a slight melancholy but nothing more than I would have felt if I heard a distant relative or casual acquaintance that I had only met once or twice had died. He's my father, Karigan. My father!" And suddenly, the tears he had successfully suppressed for most of the day spilled out of his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. Understanding passed over Karigan's face, and she moved forward to put her arms around him, murmuring words of comfort into his ear. For a long time, they stood there, embracing, Zachary finally releasing the emotions that had been swirling inside for so long. Fear, confusion, heartache, and a longing for a different past, a different relationship with his family, warred together inside him, and Karigan, much to his surprise, did not pull away from the onslaught. Instead, she comforted him until he could cry no longer. When he finally pulled away, his face was red and wet, and he fumbled a moment before managing to extract a handkerchief from his pocket. He looked at Karigan who was still watching him carefully. "I apologize," he told her. "I should not have-"

"No, that is exactly what you needed." The two stared at one another for a minute before he finally decided that the now sodden handkerchief was not doing him any good. He pocketed it and, after a moment's hesitation, held out an arm.

"If I have not scared you away, would you care to take a walk around the garden?"

Karigan took his arm immediately. "What if someone sees?" she asked.

"Let them."

Two days later, Zachary arrived at the West Meeting Hall and took the seat for the Hillander representative to which he was finally becoming accustomed. He glanced around, noting that all the Lord Governors except Wayman and Penburn were present. It was an impressive turnout for a short-notice meeting, but he supposed that the changing of a king was an important event. Amilton sat near the head of the table, just to the right of the empty chair reserved for his father, a small smirk on his face. He exuded confidence and self-assuredness.

The door opened, and all eyes turned to see King Amigast enter, leaning on the arm of one of his Weapons. Everyone rose until the Weapon helped him into his seat. Once the shuffling of chairs died down, Amigast spoke. "I am sure you all know why I have called you here today, so I will not spend time rehashing things we all know." He turned to face his elder son who sat up a bit straighter, his smile widening slightly. "Amilton, I had hoped this day would not come for many years yet. You are still young, and the burden of a kingdom is great. I had hoped for you to have more time to mature into the role." The others around the table exchanged glances at the implication in his words. Even Amilton, as conceited as he was, could hear it, and his smile slipped slightly. "Alas, it is not meant to be. As I enter my final days, my biggest wish is that both you and this kingdom will be well cared for after I am gone. And after many discussions with my advisors, I have come to realize that giving you the crown will not help further those goals. Therefore, I believe it is best if the crown passes instead to your brother, Zachary."

Zachary felt the eyes of all those at the table turn to him. He was sure his own face had paled, and only years of practice stopped his mouth from dropping open. Of all the scenarios he had imagined—and he had run through quite a few in his head—the thought of his father passing the crown to him instead of Amilton had never entered his mind. He was not sure what to do or what to say. His eyes searched his father's face for a moment, trying to determine if he was teasing, but Amigast appeared perfectly serious. Zachary's eyes next slid to the side to look at Amilton who had turned to his younger brother, a murderous expression on his face. But for the first time in their lives, Amilton could not do anything. With a single statement, Amigast had reversed the power dynamics between them. Even shared blood would not protect against accusations of treason if Amilton attempted to harm the heir apparent—for, Zachary realized with a start, that was exactly what he was.

Fortunately, Amigast saved Zachary from responding. "Zachary, Sperren will go over details of your new position. In the meantime, I must retire, for I grow weary. Damien." Amigast motioned to the Weapon who had helped him in, and the younger man stepped forward. As the king left the room, Zachary felt all eyes return to him once more, but he forced himself to ignore the stares, instead catching Sperren's gaze. Sperren did not seem surprised by the news, but Zachary supposed he was likely one of the advisors who had counseled Amigast. He was intelligent and not blinded by Amigast's fondness for Amilton, so his suggestion that the crown pass to Zachary was not too shocking. Sperren nodded, and Zachary rose, crossing to join him.

"Excuse me," he mumbled to the other Lord Governors. They started to nod, but after a moment, Lord L'Petrie jumped to his feet, bowing, and the others quickly followed suit. It would certainly take time for Zachary to accustom himself to that behavior. For now, he gave a brief nod, following Sperren out of the room and down the hall to a smaller meeting room. His mind buzzed with thoughts, but he imagined it would take some time for everything that had happened to sink in, for him to realize that he was now the heir apparent to the throne.

He stopped suddenly as his brain finally brought to light a fact that should have been obvious from the first but which he had not really acknowledged. He was not just going to be the heir apparent—he was going to be king, likely sooner rather than later. That was a sobering thought.