Heir to the Crown by Ron C. Nieto EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Author: Ron C. Nieto
- Language: English
- Genre: Military Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
No poets would sing the beauty of Oren’s city of birth, but the sight of her
punched the air from his lungs. A wound in the side of the mountain it
commanded, Montfer fought and crawled her way up the steep slopes, her
streets twisting when they could, cutting into the rock itself when they
could not. The road that entered through the Victory Gate displayed every
district as a challenge, from the shantytown that had spilled the tight circle
of the walls to the Iron Castle rising above the rest of the buildings like a
black behemoth in constant watch.
Behind Oren, Yorick whistled through his teeth when the column of
guardsmen slowed to a stop. “I wouldn’t want to storm that fort.”
“Good thing we have an invitation,” Oren said, his flippant tone enough
to set his men to a new round of cheering. They had been at it for hours,
ever since it was clear they would make the city before nightfall, and Oren
shook his head even as he allowed their enthusiasm to lift the pall of nerves
that had settled over his own positive mood.
With Montfer in stark relief right in front of his eyes, a frisson of mixed
feelings raised goosebumps along his back. The last time he had seen his
HOMECOMING
family, he had been a foolish boy whose naivete had put a knife at his own
throat and forced his father’s hand. No matter which words had been used at
the time: his seven-year-old self had understood being sent to foster at
Dracourt under the Lord Calmarch as exile. Would his father find him
worthy now? Or would the games played at Court prove him to be that
same lost boy he had once been?
He had worked hard for a chance to return to his city better than he’d left.
But had he done enough?
The Victory Gate stood too far away, and far too close at the same time.
Oren would have his answers once his group crossed that gate, and he was
no longer certain of being ready for them.
Tightening the reins around his fist, Oren corrected his posture, throwing
back his shoulders and relishing the dull ache of tiredness that spread
through his limbs. That pang meant he belonged exactly where he was,
surrounded by jeering riders, brothers of the road. He needed to remember
that, no matter what happened at court.
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