‘No one’s going to shout ‘Long live Radovid’, thought the prince (…) ‘No one’s even going to look at me. No one will raise a cry in honour of my mother. Nor mention my father; they won’t shout his glory. Today, on the day of triumph, on the day of reconciliation, of the alliance to which my father, after all, contributed. Which was why he was murdered.
He felt someone’s eyes on the nape of his neck. As delicate as something he didn’t know–or did, but only from his dreams. Something like the soft, hot caress of a woman’s lips. He turned his head. He saw the dark, bottomless eyes of Philippa Eilhart fixed on him.
Just you wait, thought the prince, looking away. Just you wait.
No one could have predicted then or guessed that this thirteen-year-old boy–now a person without any significance in a country ruled by the Regency Council and Dijkstra–would grow into a king. A king, who–after paying back all the insults borne by himself and his mother–would pass into history as Radovid V the Stern.
Lady of the Lake, Chapter 10.