by Renna Peak
“I suppose it is. But you need to find peace with each other and build upon that.”
“We are trying.” My voice is meek, and I barely recognize it. “I…I am trying.”
William looks into my eyes, and I still can’t read what’s there. It almost looks like resentment. “As am I.”
“Well, I suppose that is a place to start. And if I might be so bold as to give you another piece of advice…” She chuckles. “Oh, who am I kidding? We all know I’m going to say it regardless of whether you find my boldness impertinent or not.”
“I always appreciate every bit of advice you give me, Mother. As far as I know, you’ve never been wrong—”
“Unfortunately, that would not be an accurate statement.” She smiles at her son. “But here is my advice. Leave the politics to your fathers. It’s why they are kings. Perhaps one day, Justine, if you should become queen of Rosvalia—”
“That isn’t going to happen.” My face burns as I realize I’ve interrupted the queen.
Her smile widens. “Perhaps not. Or perhaps it will. One can never speculate on these things.”
“She’s right, you know.” William smiles over at me. “It’s only been a day, and I’m already tired of this charade. We should just go to my father and tell him what we think is going on. Maybe he’ll throw King Max and his bastard son out on their ears—”
“William.” The queen’s tone is curt, and there’s no mistaking the warning in her voice. “You’re speaking about your wife’s family.”
His cheeks turn a dark shade of crimson. “Apologies. To both of you.” He picks up his water and takes a long drink.
“I’ll speak to my father this morning.” I’m not really speaking to anyone at the table in particular. I still find myself staring at my plate. “I doubt he’ll reveal anything to me about his plans, especially now that Reginald is here. But I suppose it can’t hurt to try. And he does think we’re fighting now, so that should only help my cause.”
“I still fail to see how a parent would enjoy hearing of the suffering of their own child.” Queen Penelope’s head swings back and forth. “I could never revel in the unhappiness of any of my children.”
“That’s why they’re Rosvalians and we’re Montovians.” William winces as soon as the words fall from his mouth, and he covers it with another drink from his glass.
I won’t say that his barbs against my country don’t sting, but I know the reputation my country has—particularly in Montovia.
“It’s complicated.” I’m not sure why I’m bothering to explain. “It isn’t like my father wants me to suffer. But he does want my marriage to fail. In fact, he insisted that it fail. I just…” My voice trails off and I’m a little overcome with emotion.
“You just what, dear?” Penelope turns her attention to me. “I hope you’ll come to know that you may tell me anything. I don’t always have the sagest advice, but I’m always here to listen.”
I nod, looking at the woman. I wonder if maybe I was meant to be in this family—to finally have a mother who is willing to be a mother. “I suppose I didn’t expect to become as fond of William as I have. When my father explained the arrangement to me, I hated him for even suggesting it. I hated William, too, for making a deal without involving me in any of the discussions. But…but I didn’t expect I would come to care for him. And I never expected to fall in love with him.”
The color returns to William’s cheeks and he takes another long drink of water.
Penelope grins. “Well, it’s settled then. This charade ends today, one way or another.”
William
My heart is still warm as we leave my mother’s suite. The moment the doors close behind us, I grab Justine and pull her into my arms, dropping my face to hers. She returns my kiss, her arms wrapping around my waist.
The taste of her is pure bliss. I hear a growl build in my throat, and before I know it, I’ve pushed her up against the wall, wanting to inhale the very essence of her. Her body is soft and warm against me, and her hands cling to me as if she never wants to let me go. I don’t intend to let her go, either.
After a moment, though, she pushes gently against me.
“I need to go speak to my father,” she says breathlessly. “And find out what my brother is doing here. If I recall, you also have a date with your brother and his fiancée.”
“I do,” I say, brushing my nose against hers. “But I’d much rather spend all day with you.”
Her smiles widens. “Me too. But the sooner we get all of this settled, the sooner we can work on being a proper husband and wife.”
Hearing those words on her lips makes my chest swell. Husband and wife. For real, this time.
“Go on, then,” I say. “Before I lose all control and have you right up against this wall.”
She laughs and playfully bats my hand away. “Keep that hunger, Your Highness. I plan on taking full advantage of it later.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Princess. It will only grow while we’re apart.”
The smile she gives me lights up my entire being. I watch her walk away from me, and when she reaches the corner, she glances over her shoulder with a look that makes my cock throb in my pants.
That woman is going to be the death of me. And I’m going to relish every single moment of it.
Grinning, I make my way to the courtyard to meet Andrew and Victoria. They wish to show me some of the projects they have planned for the capital city—and to take me to my favorite restaurant in town for lunch. They’re already there waiting for me when I arrive. Victoria smiles when she sees me, but Andrew gives me one of his usual stern, worried looks.
“Hello,” I say cheerfully. “How are you both this beautiful morning?”
Andrew blinks in surprise, but Victoria’s face only brightens.
“Someone’s in a good mood today,” she says. “I take it you and Justine made up?”
“Something like that,” I reply. I turn to my brother. “Why so glum, Andrew?”
He straightens. “I’m happy to hear that you and your wife have reconciled,” he says. “That might keep things civil around here. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Reginald arrived this morning.”
My grin drops only a little. “I heard. But I’d like to forget about the bastard for a few hours, at least.”
“Good luck with that,” comes a voice from behind us.
I turn, my stomach dropping. Reginald is coming down the stairs, the usual smirk on his face. Just the sight of him makes my hands curl into fists, but I resist the automatic—and perfectly natural—urge to punch that look right off his face.
“Having fun without me?” he says when he reaches the bottom of the stairs. “Where are your manners? Isn’t it your job to make sure your guest is entertained?”
“We assumed you were recovering from your journey,” I say without missing a beat. “I know how taxing it must be, mooching off your richer neighbors.”
Rage flashes across Reginald’s face, but he quickly suppresses it. “You’re one to talk—when was the last time you did any real work, William? At least Andrew participates in his country’s governing—”
“I spent two weeks helping rebuild the bridge in your capital city,” I remind him. “I don’t recall seeing you out there, helping your people. Hell, I’d be surprised if you could even lift one of those beams—you’d probably be too afraid of getting a blister to even try.”
Reginald’s expression twists in anger again, but before I can throw another barb, I feel a hand on my arm—Andrew. I know my brother hates Reginald as much as I do, but he gives me another stern look before turning back to our archenemy.
“We welcome you to Montovia, Reginald,” Andrew says, his voice emotionless and even. “I hope your stay here is pleasant. If you need anything, please ask a member of the palace staff—they’re happy to assist any of our guests. In the meantime, we have some work to do in the city. If you’ll excuse us.”
We turn to go, but Reginald calls
after us. “William, be sure to tell that whore of a sister of mine that she’s thrown her last tantrum. I told Father that marrying her to one of you Montovian beasts would only make her more of an embarrassment, but he didn’t listen.”
I could hold back my temper when Reginald was only insulting me. Even when he was insulting Montovia or my family—the bad blood between our families is nothing new, and we’ve certainly thrown our fair share of jabs at Rosvalia. But insulting Justine, his sister…my wife…
I tear myself out of Andrew’s grip. Dimly, as if from far away, I’m aware of him calling my name—and Victoria, too—but I ignore it. Rage has completely taken over.
How dare he say such things? How dare he continue to abuse and insult his own sister, who’s done nothing to deserve such vile words?
Reginald must see the intention in my face, because his eyes widen. He turns, starts to run, but I’m already on him, grabbing him by the collar and throwing my fist at his face.
The next few minutes feel like a moment frozen in time—and at the same time, like they go by in a flash. Reginald punches me in the stomach, and I return a jab to his ribs. We’re on the ground, throwing fists and elbows, grabbing and kicking. My body hardly registers the pain of his hits.
“How dare you talk about Justine that way!” I hear myself shout. “Your own sister!”
“That whore will get what she deserves!” Reginald growls back. “Just like the last time!”
There are hands pulling at me—probably Andrew’s, but I ignore them as Reginald’s fist hits me in the side.
“We’re onto you, you bastard,” I say to Reginald, taking another swing at him. “You and your father! We’re not going to let you get away with it!”
There are more hands on me now, pulling me away. The Royal Guard has appeared, and it takes six of them to get me off of Reginald.
“You’re not going to get away with this!” I shout again as they drag me away.
There are just as many members of the Royal Guard on Reginald as there are on me. Reginald’s lip is split, and the side of his face is swelling up. I’m sure I look no better.
“Calm yourself, Brother,” Andrew tells me. “Don’t make this worse than it already is.”
“How can you stand by and do nothing?” I demand. “If you knew what he has planned—”
“Enough,” my brother says. His eyes are hard as he stares me down. “Don’t make me drag you before father.”
Reluctantly, I stop struggling against the guards holding me. After a moment, they release me. Looking over Andrew’s shoulder, I see that Reginald is being led inside.
Andrew says a few quiet words to the Royal Guards next to us, and they nod and retreat. When they’re a fair distance away, Andrew turns back to me.
“You should have let me kill him,” I grumble, still fuming. “It would’ve saved both our countries a lot of pain.”
Andrew’s gaze bores into me, and for a moment, he looks just like our father. It startles the fight right out of me.
“I understand why you responded the way you did to what he said about Justine,” he says in a measured voice. “Trust me, I know all too well.” His eyes flick to Victoria, then back to me. “But I think this is about something more than that. You said you weren’t going to let Reginald and his father ‘get away with it’. What exactly were you referring to?”
With a start, I realize that in my anger I revealed a lot more than I intended to. Glancing between my brother and Victoria—who looks as worried as I’ve ever seen her—I shake my head. I honestly don’t know much of anything about what King Maximilian and Reginald have planned.
“I was just upset,” I say.
“No, I think you know something,” Andrew says, his eyes hard. “And you’re going to tell us exactly what.”
Justine
I make my way to the suite where my father has been staying. It takes a few minutes, but it doesn’t seem like it’s been nearly long enough. I’m standing outside his door before I know it, and my heart speeds in my chest at the thought of having to knock.
My father and I have had a complicated relationship. Though I suppose now that I’m thinking of it, it hasn’t been very complicated at all. He has a very narrow view of the place of women, and I’ve suffered for it. That is all our relationship has been from the day I was born.
I stand at the door for what seems an eternity, terrified to do so much as knock. But I know I must—if I want to save my marriage to William, I have little choice but to stand up to my father. And I do want to save my marriage. I must.
Finally, I rap softly on the door. A muffled “yes” comes from the other side, and I open the door, peeking in before I enter.
My father is sitting on the sofa in the living room—his suite is much larger than mine, though mostly set up exactly the same. His gaze narrows when he realizes it’s me.
I curtsy, bowing my head. “Hello, Father.”
His response is little more than a growl. “What do you want?”
I force a smile as I straighten. “I…I thought we might speak. I…I haven’t seen you in some time.”
He makes a sound that could only be described as a snort. “You’ve been quite busy, Daughter.”
“Yes.” I try to keep the plastic smile on my lips. “With the conference and the cleanup from the storm—”
“That isn’t what I meant.” He grumbles something under his breath before he finally motions for me to take the seat across from him. “Sit. I thought you were one of the servants bringing my breakfast. I don’t know what takes these Montovians so long… You’d think they’d never had guests before.”
I say nothing as I take a seat in the chair opposite him.
“Have you eaten? If they ever show up, I’ll have them bring something for you.”
“I’m fine. I…I ate earlier.”
He rolls his eyes. “With your husband, I suppose? You’ve reconciled your little spat, then?”
“I…” I don’t want to reveal too much to him. I suppose it’s better if he thinks William and I are still fighting. “We’re trying.”
He sighs, sitting back in his chair before he folds his arms across his chest. “So I’ve heard.”
My heart is still hammering in my chest. Even though he’s never treated me well—some might even say he’s done horrible, treacherous things to me—he’s still my father. And part of me is having a great deal of difficulty showing him any amount of disrespect.
“We had an agreement, Justine.”
“We did. But—”
“There’s no but, Daughter. We had an agreement. And you are now in violation of that agreement.”
“I’m…in violation?”
“Never once did I say you could actually have a relationship with that Montovian piece of filth. Never once did I say you could care for him.”
My face feels like it’s caught fire. My mouth is opening and closing without making any sounds—I can’t seem to find my breath.
“Oh, you thought I wouldn’t know what the two of you have been up to?” He shakes his head. “You’ve gone soft—fallen in love with him. You’ve become one of them.” He sighs. “You underestimate my power, Daughter. And how far it reaches outside my country.”
It feels as though there’s something crushing my chest. I can’t seem to breathe, let alone speak.
And my father seems to appreciate my silence. “You’ve violated the terms of our agreement. And now I find myself here…” He waves with his arms. “Here, in this…this filthy excuse for a country…” He shakes his head. “You’ve become one of them,” he repeats. “You’ve chosen the enemy’s side. And you’ve left me little choice, Daughter.”
“Little…choice?” My voice is little more than a squeak—meek, like the little mouse I am around my father.
“Yes, Justine. Little choice.” There’s no mistaking the condescension in his voice. “I’m here in Montovia to clean up the mess you’ve made. Why did you think I was here?”
/> “I…I wasn’t sure. I’d hoped—”
“That I was here to kiss the boots of King Edmund? Ha.” He rolls his eyes again. “I’ll have the final laugh in what happens between Montovia and Rosvalia, I’ve no doubt of that. But no, today I’m here to negotiate with His Royal Majesty.” The way he says the title of King Edmund leaves no doubt of how little respect he has for the man.
“Oh. But Father—”
I’m interrupted with a pounding on the door, followed by its opening. My brother stumbles inside. It looks as though someone has given him a terrible beating, and it only takes a moment for the twisting in my stomach to tell me who it was.
Reginald points at me. “She… Her husband did this.” He motions to his face. “I think he’s broken my nose. And possibly a rib.” He grabs at his side, hunching over.
My father shakes his head. “And did you at least do as much to him?”
“Yes.” Reginald nods, clutching his stomach. “He got a much worse beating.”
My eyes widen, and it feels as though I’ve taken my own punch to the stomach. I should go to him—make sure William is all right—but I can hardly go off running to him now.
I press my lips together instead, folding my hands on my lap.
“You’ve heard the whore is in love with him, haven’t you? That she’s taken their side?” Reginald’s eyes are wild, and he must have lost some of his sense if he’s speaking to our father using such language. “You know…you know they’re…they’re—”
“In love. Yes, I’ve heard.” My father shoots me a look of disgust. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. I hope there won’t be any…unfortunate…details to clean up this time.”
“Father…” I’m not sure where my voice has suddenly come from, but I’ve heard enough. “I’m a married woman. I would hardly compare this to last time.”
He sneers at me for a long moment. “I should have taken the opportunity to have you sterilized when I had the chance.”