by Peak, Renna
The king takes his chair, and everyone else follows suit. I sink stiffly into my seat, still mostly terrified, and try to look like I have every right to be here. When I glance down the table at Nick’s cousins, Caspar gives me an encouraging nod. At least all the young folk seem to be on my side. That’s something, isn’t it?
Lord Frederick is a different story. He keeps glancing between the king and me with narrowed eyes, and his thin, wiry eyebrows are drawn together. He doesn’t know why the king invited me to stay, and that worries him. That worries him a lot, judging by the vein pulsing in his throat.
Maybe that’s it, I think, glancing back toward the king. Maybe this was just a power move. His Majesty is trying to put Lord Frederick off-balance. I’ve seen CEOs use similar tactics many, many times in boardrooms. If you make your opposition uncomfortable, or leave them confused and speculating about your motives, you’ve already given yourself the upper hand.
It’s actually kind of brilliant.
The king laces his fingers together, studying each person at the table in turn. His eyes reach me last, and he gives a small, almost imperceptible nod, but his expression gives nothing away.
“Lord Frederick,” he says finally, redirecting his gaze back to his cousin, “I understand you have some grievances you wish to air. But I have some grievances of my own to address first.”
Lord Frederick’s lips pinch together. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
“I sent my esteemed son to you as a sign of honor,” the king says, glancing deliberately toward Nick. “Because I care deeply about the relations of this family, and more importantly, this country. I believed that you would treat him as an extension of me, showing him the same dignity and respect you would show to me or to any other member of my family.”
Lord Frederick has gone decidedly pale, but his lips are still pinched together, and that spot in his throat seems to be throbbing a little faster now.
“But my son has not been a guest here alone,” the king goes on. “He brought his betrothed with him as well. Clara Weaver is a future member of this family, and as such, she is due the same honor and respect as my son, and as we’ve already established, my son is due the same honor and respect you would give me.”
Nick’s hand finds my leg beneath the table, squeezing my knee lightly. I can’t tell what he’s thinking from his touch alone, but I know what I am thinking: His Majesty is fucking brilliant.
“Suffice it to say, I’m rather surprised by some of the things I’ve learned since my arrival,” the king continues. “I learned that Clara Weaver, who should be treated with as much honor as my son, nearly drowned in the lake. At the hands of your sons, no less.”
I almost jump in to defend Nick’s cousins—whose eyes have all gone wide at the accusation—but the king charges on before I can say a word.
“I’ve also learned that she was kidnapped from these very grounds, that she nearly died at the hands of her attacker, and that her attacker escaped his confinement and is currently at large, posing a threat to both Clara, my son, and all of us who would defend them. Is this how you treat a member of my immediate family? Is this how you manage the estate left in your care?”
Lord Frederick is so white I’m surprised he’s still conscious. “Your Majesty, I—”
“You and your family were honored with this position because it was believed you were competent, honorable, and otherwise deserving of the role,” the king continues on as if his cousin had never spoken. “But how can I trust you to hold Wintervale when you can’t even keep people safe on your own grounds? How can you even speak of leading a secession when you can’t manage a simple estate? When you can’t ensure the safety of your own guests? You threaten me from a place of pride and vanity, stirring up ill will among the people here, when your own affairs aren’t even in order. If I were to give you Wintervale outright, you wouldn’t know what to do with it. You believe you wield power, but you are blinded by your own ego. Only a fool seeks power for the sake of power. A wise man takes care of the responsibilities thrust upon him before asking for more. So which are you, Cousin—a fool or a wise man?”
It takes every ounce of my willpower not to grin. The king is absolutely destroying Lord Frederick. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen someone so good at this.
Lord Frederick appears to be scrambling for a response. For once, his eagle-sharp eyes don’t seem to know where to land, and he swallows several times before he manages to speak.
“I assure you, Your Majesty, Wintervale is in good hands,” he says. “The incident with the escaped kidnapper is…unfortunate, but it’s being handled to the best of our ability, with all the resources that can be spared. You must understand, Your Majesty, that Wintervale sees relatively little crime. We pride ourselves on being a peaceful district, and the local police, for all their enthusiasm, have little experience with dangerous men of this nature. It wasn’t until the arrival of Ms. Weaver that—”
“I hope you don’t mean to blame Ms. Weaver for her own kidnapping,” the king says, his voice calm but hard as steel. “After all, as my son’s betrothed—”
“Oh, no, that was not my intention,” Lord Frederick says quickly. Then his eyes widen as he realizes he interrupted his king. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. Please, go on.”
“I intend to study the current state of Wintervale very closely over the next week,” the king continues. “To see for myself how you have handled this estate left so generously in your care. I wish to speak to the people in the town, as well as those under your employ—starting with your guards, who’ve allowed so many terrible things to happen to my son’s betrothed. I’d also like to speak with the men and women managing the estate’s finances, as well as those managing the affairs of Wintervale Town. Once I’m done with my assessment, then we may discuss how the Crown might better serve Wintervale and its inhabitants.” He rises from his chair.
Everyone else rises, too, including Lord Frederick and his sons.
“If, indeed, it is better for all involved to divorce Wintervale from the country of Montovia, then I will not oppose it,” the king says. “But I doubt very much that will be the case. And if I find the opposite to be true, then I will have to consider appointing someone more competent to the stewardship of this estate and region.”
He doesn’t wait for a response. He turns and strides from the room, and his sons move after him. I follow with Nick.
It’s not until we’re halfway down the hallway, well away from Lord Frederick, that I let myself smile.
“That was brilliant!” I say before I can stop myself.
Everyone turns and glances at me, including the king himself. I realize I’ve probably spoken out of turn.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” I say, trying to bob a curtsy as I walk. “I just can’t help it. That was amazing. I’d love to see you face down some of the arrogant CEOs I used to deal with.”
Nick squeezes my arm, silently urging me to stop speaking, but Prince Leo actually laughs.
“CEOs? Running a country is a little harder than running a company, don’t you think?” He grins. “Our father would chew them up.”
“Oh, I’m not denying that,” I say. “And yes, I imagine that running a country is quite a bit harder than running a company. But a lot of the skills are the same. His Majesty used some classic leadership power techniques back there. He—” I cut myself off when I remember that I’m still walking right next to the king, and that I probably shouldn’t be talking about him as if he weren’t here. That seems like a pretty obvious faux pas when dealing with royalty. “Forgive me, Your Majesty.”
“No,” he says in that emotionless voice, studying me from the side of his eye. “Please continue.”
Something about his tone makes me wary, but I can’t exactly refuse to go on now, can I?
“Well, I just mean that you knew exactly how to put him in his place,” I say. “You used me to throw him off-balance, then you immediately put him on the defensive. He can’t a
ttack you when he’s busy defending himself. And you pointed out true weaknesses in his leadership and character. Even if he denied the accusations out loud, you know he’s smart enough to recognize those personal flaws in himself. So not only was he forced to defend himself, but he was also forced to confront his own abilities. Even a seed of doubt is a very powerful tool.”
For a moment, no one speaks. The king seems to be considering my words, and I hold my breath, hoping I haven’t overstepped myself. Nick is still gripping my arm tightly.
And then, shockingly, the hint of a smile appears on the king’s lips. And in his eyes I see…respect.
“Your betrothed is very astute, Nicholas,” he says.
“Yes, she is,” Nick says, a hint of pride in his voice.
“Perhaps she should accompany us on our examination of the estate and town,” his father goes on.
That means going outside the manor, and I’m all for that. But I can tell Nick is going to object, so I jump in before he can say anything.
“Sure. I’d love to.”
Nicholas
My stomach is in a large knot. My father is not one to encourage this sort of talk—I’m certain he loves hearing compliments as much as the next person, but he usually cuts off such things before one can even begin.
Something is up—something is wrong.
But Clara cannot seem to see it. The way Andrew keeps lifting a brow, giving me a sidelong glance tells me he can sense the same thing. Leopold, as usual, is oblivious, and is almost encouraging her to continue.
My father stops walking, and we all halt in place. He turns to Clara, and I realize with a start that I’m likely holding her arm far too tightly. I release her, grasping my hands behind my back.
There’s a pause before my father begins to speak. “What do you propose we do first, Miss Weaver? Inspect the grounds or interview the citizens of Wintervale?”
She doesn’t even hesitate. “I think we should head into town.”
“Very well.” He makes a motion with his hand, and seemingly from nowhere several servants appear. “Ready the cars.” My father’s gaze narrows at me—almost imperceptibly. “Miss Weaver will ride with me.”
My mouth falls open, but I snap it closed before I can speak out of turn. I would never dream of contradicting my father, even though it’s clear he has something up his sleeve.
Before there is time for anyone to argue, we’re ushered to the waiting cars—my father and Clara in one, and my brothers and me in the other.
Barely a second passes before Andrew turns to me, cocking his head. “What in the hell is going on, Nicholas?”
“I only wish I knew,” I grumble, barely audible to either of them.
Andrew lets out a sigh. “He’s toying with her.”
“Obviously.” Leo grins, first at me, and then at Andrew. “But it’s sort of brilliant—”
“There’s nothing brilliant about it, Brother.” My gaze narrows. “He means to make a fool of her.” I shake my head. “But I cannot understand why.”
“Perhaps because she is an American.” Andrew’s shoulders rise into a slight shrug.
“You both married Americans. He never did such a thing to either of your wives.”
The look that passes between my older brothers tells me that there was likely much that went on before their weddings that I was not privy to. But it doesn’t excuse my father’s behavior now.
“You cannot honestly tell me that Father requested to have Eleanor or Victoria…advise him.”
“Not even remotely.” I can hear the amusement in Leo’s voice.
Andrew merely frowns. “Perhaps he means to make a mockery of her for other reasons than her nationality.” He shakes his head. “I truly have no idea.”
“Why should he make a mockery of her at all?” I look between the two of them. “Why can he not respect that she is the woman I chose to marry? Why put us through this—”
“Have either of you considered…” Leo’s expression turns to his standard grin again. “Perhaps—just perhaps—he really does seek her counsel on this matter?”
“Why would he?” Andrew’s brow draws together. “It isn’t as though she’s some expert on Wintervale. If anyone in the immediate family is, it would be Nicholas. God knows he spent enough time here as a boy. He might as well have been a ward of Lord Frederick’s.”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “That is more than a slight exaggeration, Andrew.”
He shrugs again. “But only barely. You spent more time here than any of the rest of us. We nearly had to pry you away most summers.”
“Even so, I was hardly a ward.” I frown at my eldest brother. “I found comfort here that I didn’t have at the palace. Forgive me, but you wouldn’t understand.”
“Hmph.” Andrew nearly rolls his eyes, and I can see how difficult it is for him to refrain.
“I think our brother was merely trying to point out that you know more about the people of Wintervale than your betrothed. And that you would be more honest about the true nature of what might be going on here than any of our cousins.”
“Not if the concern is that there is some new threat of secession. Before we arrived last week, I hadn’t been here in two years.” My brothers might not be completely knowledgeable about why I left the area in the first place, but they certainly know the gist.
Andrew’s brows draw together. “What did you say your betrothed did before she found you on your farm—?”
“Ranch,” I interrupt.
He makes a dismissive motion with his hand. “As though it makes a difference. She was some sort of businesswoman, you said?”
I give him a small shrug. “As far as I know, she worked as an advertising executive. But I could tell you little else.”
“Hm.” Andrew rubs at his chin for a moment. “What was the name of her company?”
My brow furrows. “I have no idea. Why would I know such a thing?”
“Uh, because you hired her to work for you?” Leo is almost laughing. “It’s not as though I’m exactly good at being responsible, but even I would have asked that much.”
My gut twists upon itself. Why wasn’t I responsible enough to look into exactly where it was that Clara worked before she came to my ranch? Perhaps this has all been a ruse—though I refuse to believe it.
Clara loves me, I tell myself. And I love her. There’s no way she would ever try and manipulate me to get to my family. No way…
“She wouldn’t.” Andrew seems to read my mind. “I’m sure there’s another explanation.”
“There must be,” I agree.
“Hm.” Leo looks like he’s about to die laughing. “Or maybe you fell—hard—into a trap, Brother.”
Clara
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any more awkward, I find myself essentially trapped in a car with the king of a small country. Who’s also my future father-in-law.
It could be worse, I guess. At least he’s not glaring at me or lecturing me like Lord Frederick. I wouldn’t blame him for that, especially after the way he found out about our engagement. Still, it’s hard not to be unsettled by the way he’s studying me across the car. His eyes are just as sharp and proud as Lord Frederick’s, but there’s a measured restraint there that makes him much more terrifying.
You’ve dealt with men like him before, I remind myself. And you already know he’s interested in what you have to say. If I keep pretending he’s just another CEO I need to impress, I’ll be okay.
I hope.
I fidget, fighting the urge to speak. I hate silence, and I always want to fill it up with babbling, but that can backfire in a situation like this. If I show that I’m uncomfortable or impatient, I give him all the power.
Finally, his mouth twitches in a faint smile.
“Tell me,” he says, “how you came to be kidnapped. This was a man from your past, I understand?”
I wasn’t expecting him to steer the conversation in this direction, but I try not to show it.
Clearly he’s after something, but I don’t know what.
“Yes, he’s my ex-fiancé,” I admit. No point in holding back—I suspect His Majesty knows most of the facts already. “He didn’t handle our breakup very well. I didn’t realize he’d followed me here until he grabbed me in the woods.”
The king’s eyes study me. “So you were engaged to another man before your betrothal to my son.” It’s not a question.
I nod. “But I called it off. I realized that things weren’t right.” I meet his gaze with as much confidence as I can. “The feelings I have for Nick far outshine anything I ever felt for Adam.”
“Mm.” His expression doesn’t change. “And you realized these feelings for my son when, exactly?”
It’s an odd question, and I’m not sure what he’s getting at.
“I realized it slowly,” I say finally. “Bit by bit. Isn’t that how these things usually work out? It wasn’t love at first sight or anything.” I smile at the memory. “In fact, I thought Nick was a big old grump when we first met. He can still be a grump sometimes, but he’s learning to loosen up a little.”
It’s not until I’m done speaking that I realize this frank appraisal of his son might not be what His Majesty was looking for.
“I think he’s wonderful, of course,” I quickly add. “I love him very much, Your Majesty.”
His expression doesn’t reveal whether he believes me or not.
“How long have you known my son?” he asks me after a moment.
“I…uh, well, I guess it’s been almost three months now.” I find myself smiling in spite of the awkwardness of the situation. “But it’s been a wonderful three months. The best of my life.” And the most exciting by far.
“How long before that were you with your ex-fiancé?” the king asks.
My smile drops as I start to realize what he’s getting at.