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Authors: Jennifer A. Nielsen

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BOOK: The False Prince
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T
he ceremony to crown me king went by very quickly. Kerwyn produced the Book of Faith, which Conner read from to administer the Blessing of the King. When it was finished, Kerwyn gave him a ring, which Conner placed on my finger. “This belonged to King Eckbert,” Conner said. “It was your father’s.”

“The king’s ring.” It was heavier than I’d expected, made of gold and imprinted with my family crest. It was too large and looked funny on my hand, like something I’d stolen rather than inherited through birthright.

Then he lifted from a ruby red pillow my crown, still wet from having been washed. “This is a prince’s crown. A new one will be commissioned for you immediately, but it will do for now.” He placed it on my head, this time with much humbler and gentler hands than had crowned me at the inn.

Conner went to his knees again and said, “Hail,
King
Jaron.”

“Hail, King Jaron!” the audience echoed.

“Be a better king than your father was,” Conner said softly. “You come to the throne at a time of great upheaval.”

“There is always upheaval,” I said. “Only the reasons for the troubles change.”

“You have the betrothed princess. She will support you.”

“She hates me.”

“So do I. And I just crowned you king.”

Conner smiled as he said it, but it probably wasn’t a joke.

“I kept my promise to you,” I said, still keeping my voice quiet enough so that only he could hear us. “You have the position you wanted.”

“You are the true king,” Conner said. “You may place me anywhere you desire.”

“So I shall.” Then more loudly, I added, “I want the prime regent, Lord Bevin Conner, arrested for the attempted murder of Prince Jaron four years ago. Arrest him for the murder of an orphan boy named Latamer. And also for the murders of King Eckbert, Queen Erin, and Crown Prince Darius.”

Whispers and hisses flew through the room. Conner turned to me with panic-stricken eyes. “No, I didn’t —”

From a pocket of my jacket, I pulled out a small vial.

“This is oil pressed from the dervanis flower,” I said. “It took me a long time to figure out what sort of poison might have killed my family. Entire nights searching through the books in your library. I’m not a great reader, that’s true, but if the subject matter interests me, I can comb through books quite quickly. Oddly enough, I found the answer in a book in your bedroom. Dervanis oil is tasteless and requires only a single drop to produce a lethal dose. But it doesn’t kill immediately. A person will go to sleep feeling fine and never wake up again. Dervanis oil is hard to come by, yet this was in a strongbox in your office.”

Conner shook his head, then his eyes darted left, and he thrust his hand inside his jacket. “As I always said,
Sage
, if I go down, so do you!” But he failed to find what he was looking for. He drew back and searched his jacket.

I released the cuff of my sleeve, and a knife he had hidden in his jacket fell into my hands. “If this is what you wanted, then I shall have to increase the charges against you.”

Two guards appeared on either side of Conner and each took his arm. “I can’t imagine the pleasure you must be taking in this moment,” he said nastily.

My temper flared. “Pleasure? I’m staring at the man who killed my family. Whatever I feel now, trust that pleasure is the furthest from those feelings.”

“You said you were my prince. Is this what that means to you?”

“I am your prince. But I am Carthya’s king. You’ll understand why, in the hierarchy of my titles, you must lose.”

“Why didn’t you tell me from the beginning? If you had told me who you were —”

“Then I couldn’t have unmasked you. I’d have doomed my own rule, just as my family was doomed.”

Behind me, Kerwyn sighed. Addressing Conner, he said, “What if Jaron had been only an orphan? Surely, you couldn’t have expected him to fool the court for long.”

“He didn’t need much time,” I said, keeping my eyes on Conner. “He needed a prince only long enough to get himself named prime regent. No matter what happened afterward, he would become the controlling power in Carthya.”

“Well done,” Conner said. “Jaron was always described as a clever boy, but I underestimated you.” I started to wave my hand to dismiss him, but Conner quickly added, “You are guilty of crimes too, Your Majesty.”

Facing him full on, I arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Even when you said you didn’t want the throne, you were all that time plotting to get it. You lied to me.”

Anger surged through me, and I didn’t disguise it well. I leaned close to him and hissed, “I did tell you lies, Master Conner, but none of consequence. I was telling the exact truth when I said I had no desire to be king! If there were anyone —
anyone
— I felt could take my place without the entire kingdom’s collapse, I would gladly step aside. If I could return to be that boy you snatched from the orphanage, I’d leave now and never look back. If you knew what it meant to be king —” I sighed and shook my head. “Of all Carthyans, I am the least free.”

“And what of my freedom?” Conner asked. “Shall I beg for mercy?”

“Beg mercy from the devils.” I spoke more calmly now. “You said you would sell your soul to them for this plan. Your plan worked, and the devils may have you.”

“If the devils have me, then you are their king,” Conner spat at me. “I will forever curse the day we met!”

“Take him to the prison,” I told my guards. “He will be there for some time. Conner, it appears you will be unavailable to fulfill your duties as prime regent. Therefore, you are relieved of that position and stripped of your title as a noble.”

Once Conner was dragged out of the room, I directed the musicians to play. Then, exhausted, I fell into my father’s throne. No, my throne. I was king now. The reality of that was incomprehensible.

One by one, the various members of the audience came forward to greet me personally. I didn’t know most of them, though I recognized several of their family names. They had been of little interest to me when I was ten, and weren’t much more interesting now.

“You have come home to a country that mourned your loss these past four years,” Kerwyn said, standing beside me. “See your people celebrate you. Will you join them?”

It wasn’t that simple. “I still feel like the boy in the orphanage,” I murmured. “I’m lost here.”

“But this is your home.”

I traced my finger along a carving in the armrest of the throne. “It was my home because my family was here. I’m alone now, and I don’t know where to begin.”

“You are still young, Jaron. Perhaps a steward would be appropriate —”

“I’m king now. No one else.”

Kerwyn dipped his head in acknowledgment of that and stared with me across the audience. Quietly, he said, “Not everyone will welcome your return. The enemies at our borders will feel tricked. There will be anger.”

“I know.”

“War is coming, Jaron.”

A fact I understood down to my very bones. Despite that, I looked up at him and cocked an eyebrow. “But surely their spies cannot travel so fast as to ruin this night. There is still a little time to laugh.” He started to object, but I stood and said, “They must see me laugh, Kerwyn. At least for tonight.”

With that I walked into the audience. Again, they parted for me. This time, I saw the person I’d been looking for all evening.

Imogen stood at the back of the room, looking very small and frightened. When I approached her, she lowered herself into a bow and remained that way.

“Please rise,” I said. “It’s still me.”

She obeyed but shook her head. “No, I don’t think it is.”

“How much did you see?”

“All of it, Your Highness.”

“Must you call me that?”

Her voice faltered. “I must.”

“Do you forgive me? Can you?”

She lowered her eyes. “If you command it, then I will.”

“What if I don’t command it?”

“Please don’t ask me that.”

Kerwyn came up beside me. “And who is this, King Jaron?”

I took her hand and led her to the center of the group. “She is a lady in disguise, just as I was disguised as an orphan for four years. She is Imogen, and her family has debts to Master Conner. She has fully repaid those debts to me these past two weeks, in expert nursing care and compassion. Her father is dead, but using my power as king, I posthumously declare him a nobleman of Carthya. She is a nobleman’s daughter and will be treated as such.”

Imogen shook her head. “No, don’t. I can’t repay this.”

I turned to her and lowered my voice. “Imogen, you owe me nothing. You are free, and I wish you well in life.” I gave her hand to Kerwyn. “Will you see that she is given a comfortable room and dressed to fit her title? She may stay as long as she wishes, and at whatever point she asks it, see that she is provided a way home.”

She smiled through her tears and bowed to me. “Thank you … King Jaron.”

I smiled back at her. “Thank you, Imogen. I wouldn’t have survived these past two weeks except for you.”

Kerwyn led her away, but when he looked back at me, I could almost see a new weight fall upon his shoulders. Difficult times were ahead, for Carthya and for me. But even pending war should never ruin a good party. With a smile on my face, I turned to the group and said, “Carthyans, tonight I am home again. Let it be a celebration. Tonight we dance!”

Jeff, you are my best friend and true companion. I thank you for sharing each day of your life with me. My thanks also to Ron Peters. Without your encouragement, friendship, and sharp critiquing eye, I might have given up a long time ago. And to the late Tom Horner, who saw details others overlooked. I miss our association. Finally, I wish to thank Ammi-Joan Paquette and Lisa Sandell, for your invaluable roles in bringing
The False Prince
to life. It is an honor to be associated with each of you, and I look forward to many great years ahead.

J
ENNIFER
A. N
IELSEN
collects old books, loves good theater, and thinks that a quiet afternoon in the mountains is a nearly perfect moment.

A major influence for this story came from the music of Eddie Vedder and one of his greatest songs, “Guaranteed.” From his line “I knew all the rules, but the rules did not know me,” Sage was born. Sage’s personality is his own, but Jennifer did borrow two of his traits from a couple of students she once taught in a high school debate class. One of them was popular, brilliant, and relentlessly mischievous. He could steal the watch off a person’s wrist without their knowing and would return it to them later, usually to their embarrassment. The other student had a broad spectrum of impressive talents, not the least of which was his ability to roll a coin over his knuckles. If he had wanted to, he’d have made a fine pickpocket. As it was, he went on to become a lawyer. Go figure.

Jennifer lives in northern Utah with her husband, their three children, and a perpetually muddy dog.

Copyright © 2012 by Jennifer A. Nielsen
Map by Kayley LeFaiver
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc.,
Publishers since 1920.
SCHOLASTIC
,
SCHOLASTIC PRESS
, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Nielsen, Jennifer A.
The false prince / by Jennifer A. Nielsen.
p. cm. — (The ascendance trilogy; bk. 1)
Summary: In the country of Carthya, a devious nobleman engages four orphans in a brutal competition to be selected to impersonate the king’s long-missing son in an effort to avoid a civil war.
ISBN 978-0-545-28413-4
[1. Impersonation — Fiction. 2. Princes — Fiction. 3. Orphans — Fiction. 4. Courts and courtiers — Fiction. 5. Secrets — Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.N5672Fal 2012

[Fic] — dc22
2011006692

First edition, April 2012

Jacket art © 2012 by Tim O’Brien
Jacket design by Christopher Stengel

e-ISBN 978-0-545-39249-5

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

BOOK: The False Prince
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