The Empty Throne

How do you find the strength to save your kingdom when you’ve lost everything?

Anya has failed in her mission to bring Prince Zabriel back to the Faerie realm of Chrior so that he can ascend his rightful throne. Instead, Zabriel, her prince, cousin and dear friend, is standing trial for crimes committed under the false name William Wolfram Pyrite. Worst of all, the last possible heir to the Faerie throne is Illumina—the cousin Anya suspects of the foulest betrayal possible.

In a desperate last attempt to put things right, Anya must partner with the unlikeliest of allies and venture into ever more dangerous situations if there is to be any hope of peace for her people.

Praise for The Queen’s Choice, book one in the Heirs of Chrior trilogy

“Kluver has captured the complex and ever-shifting

emotions of a teenage girl and constructed an engaging, densely plotted political thriller, complete with a cliff-hanger ending that will make readers eager for the sequel.” —Booklist

“Rich details, emotionally deep characters,

and original plot elements will attract new and old fans of the fae subgenre.” —School Library Journal

Books by Cayla Kluver from MiraInk

Heirs of Chrior

(in reading order)

The Queen’s Choice

The Empty Throne

The Legacy Trilogy

(in reading order)

Legacy

Allegiance Sacrifice

For Mom. You know why.

About the Author

Cayla Kluver is the author of the Legacy trilogy (which includes Legacy, Allegiance and Sacrifice), and The Queen’s Choice, book one of the Heirs of Chrior trilogy, as well as numerous rambling blog posts on her website and a handful of Tweets. She has cats, dogs and horses, watches more crime shows than is probably healthy, and loves Robert Louis Stevenson and the Beatles. Visit Cayla at www.caylakluver.com, friend her on Facebook and follow @CaylaKL on Twitter.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Title Page

Praise

Booklist

Dedication

About the Author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Copyright

Chapter One

THE LOVELY PALE COLOR OF CHEESE

I paced the floor of my room, tired and on edge, playing the memory of my mutilation over and over again in my head. Despite the fact I had spent the night in a fine inn in southern Tairmor, I hadn’t slept at all. The charcoal drawing I had discovered in my cousin Illumina’s notebook of the vicious attack that had cost me my wings had thrown me into turmoil. And the nightmarish image my mind had conjured of her as the woman who had stroked my hair where I lay bleeding on the ground had sent panic shooting through my veins. But in the light of day, my actual memory failed to provide any clarity about the woman, and my heart refused to consider any such possibility. Yet, in the deepest recesses of my brain, doubt ate away at me.

“Anya? Anya, are you awake?”

It wasn’t the words, but the insistent knocking upon the door that pulled me from my circular thoughts. I frowned, not wanting to see anyone. My vision was blurred, my head ached, and nausea roiled my stomach. I wasn’t even close to ready to face the world.

“Anya, I have to talk to you. It’s important.”

This time I recognized the voice. It was Officer Tom Matlock, the young man with whom I had spent the previous evening. After escorting me to the room he had gallantly rented for me, he had promised to return midmorning to check on me, and it was he who now stood in the second-floor hallway wearing out his knuckles upon my door.

“Coming!”

I tugged at my tunic to straighten it and ran a hand through my hair, my face flushing at the thought of the kiss he and I had exchanged but a few hours ago. The caress of his hands, the pressure of his lips against mine, and the strength and safety I had felt in his embrace had almost led me to invite him to stay the night. I shook myself like a dog expelling water from its coat—this was a moment I should not be reliving, especially since Davic, my promised, waited to receive word from me in the Faerie Realm.

I crossed the floor to grant Tom entrance, but before I could even say hello, he pushed past me across the threshold. I stared aghast at him, for his actions were at odds with the gentlemanly manner I had come to expect. With a backward sweep of his leg, he kicked the door shut. The motion was enough to send my overworked sense of danger through the roof.

“What’s wrong?” I demanded, shifting away from him. When my calves bumped into the bed, I sank down upon it, though he didn’t seem to notice—his own agitation had spurred him to pace the floor almost literally in my footsteps.

“You asked me last night if you’d earned a wanted poster. Why did you want to know? And don’t tell me it’s because of the escape you and Shea made from Tairmor, the one I aided. Nothing further came from that. No, something happened while you were in Sheness. You have to tell me what it was.”