CHAPTER ELEVEN Gareth stood at his open window, watching dawn break over his kingdom. His kingdom. It felt good to think the words. As of today, he would be King. Not his father, but he. Gareth MacGil. The eighth of the MacGils. The crown would sit on his head. It was a new era now. A new dynasty. His face would be on the coins, a statue of him would be placed outside the castle. In just weeks, his father’s name would be a memory, something relegated to the history books. Now it was his time to rise, his time to shine. It was the day he had looked forward to his entire life. In fact, Gareth had been up all night, unable to sleep, tossing and turning, pacing the floors, sweating, covered in cold chills. In the few moments he had slept, he had had fast and troubled dreams, had seen the fa