The Debutante (Season Series #2)

Chapter 45 (Andrew): The Ire of a King

For the first time in my life, I was not afraid of him.

My grandmother's ring was around Libby's finger and the promise it represented bolstered my courage. This time tomorrow morning, once I made my decision public, the rest of the court would bow down before her as their future queen. She would fidget and squirm and I would do my best not to grin like an idiot at her, eager to introduce the woman I loved to the rest of the world. Treaty be damned, I was going to marry her and no one else.

When I pushed the study door open, father's flinty stare met mine. I didn't hesitate as I took the seat opposite him, his fingers steepled as he surveyed me. We'd been through this routine so many times before that I knew what was expected of me. This time, however, the stakes were that much higher, so I willed my racing heart to calm itself.

"You've played this very well," father said finally, interrupting the ticking of the grandfather clock that had overtaken the silence between us.

"I haven't played anything," I replied. His head tipped ever so slightly and I steeled myself for the upcoming debate.

"I'm only using your analogy," he shrugged, "A pawn in my game, if I recall correctly. I daresay you ought to think a little more highly of yourself, you're at the very least a knight. Useful, but not as dangerous as you might think."

I felt my cheeks heat, but I held my tongue. If he drove me to lose my temper, I would lose the fight.

"At least I don't have to destroy everything in my path to get where I want to go," I said, playing along. He quirked an unamused eyebrow.

"Indeed," he said, dropping his steely gaze from mine to the papers set out before him, "Though whatever piece you consider yourself now is irrelevant. You know as well as anyone that you have always been destined to become king."

"I proposed to her," I said flatly. His eyes met mine once again, his brows crashing down in hostile disbelief. I forced myself not to squirm under his unblinking stare.

"Did you think I would take this lightly?" he demanded finally, leaning back in his chair to study me over steepled fingers once again.

"I love her and I'm marrying her. If you'd bothered to include me in any of your negotiations this wouldn't have hap-" I started.

"You are the crown prince! You do not have the luxury of marrying for love!" father roared, standing. He leaned over the desk, towering over me, but I refused to cower.

"Is that your threat, then? My crown?" I asked. His fingers curled into fists on the desk. I knew he hated the idea of Thomas as king more than Thomas himself did. To father, Thomas was no more than a troublesome and self-centered adolescent, more eager to rile our people rather than appease them. He didn't see the value in my brother's uncanny ability to bend people to his will, mostly because he considered Thomas a reckless force that could not be properly harnessed. What he failed to realize, however, was that Thomas' abilities didn't need harnessing, not if he cared about you.

"If it were, would you give up the girl?" he asked, seating himself as his jaw clenched in frustration.

"No," I replied instantly. I felt a fleeting hint of relief that I'd guessed his move before he'd made it, but what worried me more was that he was sitting down to negotiate despite his trump card being off the table.

"Then you leave me no choice," he said, looking to the door leading to his library, "Please come join us, Bishop Archibald."

As the Bishop of Highcastle took a wary step out of the shadowy library, my breath caught in my throat. Thomas was supposed to be announcing my engagement before him with the requisite three witnesses at this very moment. If he hadn't yet, then my ring and my promise meant nothing. I realized too late that I hadn't schooled my expression as the holy man took the seat beside me, resting a gnarled old hand on my shoulder in greeting. Bishop Archibald gave me a kind smile as he settled himself, hands clasped as he politely awaited the king's next words. Father had been watching me the whole time, finally leaning back in his chair in satisfaction.