by Sera Trevor
“What does he want?”
“He’s asking for the honor of my presence to discuss an important matter.”
Risyda snorted. “Perhaps he’s finally come to terms with the fact that you’re about to become king consort and wants to grovel.”
“Maybe,” he said faintly, but Minister Adwig did not seem like the grovelling type.
The valet cleared his throat. “If it is convenient for my lord, the minister suggests that you come with me.”
“Yes, of course,” he said. He wanted to get it over with.
Jasen followed the valet through the palace, all the way to the West Wing where the government officials had their cabinets. The valet knocked on one of the doors and was bade to enter.
The minster’s cabinet was small and more subdued than the rest of the palace, although the dark wood paneling was still elegant. The man himself sat at a surprisingly humble desk toward the back of the room. He was writing something when Jasen entered, leaving Jasen to stand in wait awkwardly for several moments.
At last, he lay down his quill and stood. “My lord,” he said with a bow. He gave a quick nod to the valet, who bowed and shut the door behind him. When they were alone, the minister gestured to a chair in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat.”
The minister considered him for a long moment before he spoke again. “I’m sure it will not surprise you that the matter of the king’s marriage has been on my mind. I imagine it’s been on your mind as well.”
Jasen swallowed. “It has.”
Jasen wished he would just come out with whatever he had to say, but the minister seemed in no particular rush. “I had just started in a position at the palace when the king was born. I have served faithfully for thirty years, first under King Rilvor’s parents, and then after their tragic deaths, under him. It was my privilege to assist King Rilvor in his ascent to the throne. It was a difficult transition, as I’m sure you can imagine, particularly since no one expected him to become king. The fact that he was barely more than a child at the time made it even more difficult. But despite all of the challenges that faced him, he has become a great king. It gives me great joy to serve under him.”
It was difficult to imagine anyone as sour-looking as Minister Adwig taking great joy in anything, but he seemed sincere. “I’m sure the king appreciates your service.”
The minister scoffed. “Certainly he does, but I know he also sees me as a troublesome old man. And it’s true—I am a troublesome old man, particularly when it comes to the stability of the kingdom. I am willing to make myself a nuisance to protect my king. Which brings me to the subject of his marriage. I have received word from him that he will return to the Draelands in a few days’ time. He has hinted that he has reached a decision as to his choice of spouse. Has he spoken to you about it?”
Jasen’s heart fluttered. “Not so directly, no.”
“But he has led you to believe that you will be his choice?”
There was little sense in denying it. “Yes.”
The minister sniffed. “Are your feelings for the king genuine?”
Jasen couldn’t find his voice, so he nodded.
“If that is true—if you truly care for the king—then you must refuse him.”
Jasen blinked. “Refuse him? Why?”
“Let me be blunt—the Allied Realms are at a crisis point. Magic has been steadily declining since the king took the throne. The current situation in Westrona shows exactly how strained the relationship between the monarch and the dragons has become. Nerves are frayed in every kingdom. For the good of the realms, his next spouse must be from a family with both strong magical connections and unquestionable pedigree. You have neither. Additionally, you are both male. That lacks the balance that the royal couple typically embody.”
Jasen had no argument—what he said was true. He felt ill.
“I know I sound harsh, but I am merely pointing out the reality of the situation. You have many virtues—your feelings for the king being among them. I am sympathetic to his feelings for you as well. Which is why I have a proposal for you. A compromise, if you will.”
“What do you mean?”
“We can make a place for you at Court permanently. You could live with the dignity befitting a young lord of your stature, as the king’s companion.”
Jasen’s cheeks flushed with equal parts anger and embarrassment. “You mean as his paramour.”
The minister shrugged. “Whatever title would suit you best. It’s true that it’s a position that has fallen out of fashion, but there was no shame in serving the monarch in such a manner in the past.”
Jasen wasn’t a proud man, but the thought of being the king’s glorified whore repulsed him. “And I suppose you’ll choose a bride for him.” He tried to keep his voice steady but wasn’t quite successful. “Do you think whoever it is will agree to this arrangement?”
“I am certain of it. There is an abundance of pragmatic young women from eligible families at Court this year.”
“And you think the king will agree?”
“As a matter of fact, I do not. Which is why you must convince him.”
“And why would I do that?”
The minister sat back in his chair, considering Jasen coolly. “Forgive me, but I must be blunt once again. I have been keeping an eye on you for some time now.”
Jasen choked back a gasp. “You’ve been spying on me?”
“I have been vetting you. The position of king consort is not one that can be left to something as flimsy as romantic feelings.”
“And what conclusion have you come to?”
“That your feelings for the king are genuine, but you have no interest in a position of power.”
The silence that followed was as heavy as a boulder. The minister steepled his fingers. “You are not a political opportunist, nor are you a parasite. That’s to your credit. But what you are, Lord Jasen, is naive. You cannot love Rilvor the man without taking on the responsibility of Rilvor the king.”
Jasen looked away. “I know that.”
“And yet it seems as if you were prepared to accept the king’s proposal, if he were to make it. Surely you must know that you are not suited for the position.”
“I think that’s for the king to decide.”
“Not entirely. The council of ministers must approve his choice as well. You will not have their support. And besides, the king does not have all of the necessary information to make his decision, does he?”
Jasen’s stomach dropped. “What do you mean?”
“I have spoken with Lord Bertio about your past affairs. I am puzzled that you were not more thoroughly vetted by our recruitment officials, but if what he says is true, you should not have been given a place in Court at all.”
Jasen stuttered for several moments, trying to form a response. “Why would trust his word over mine?”
“Do you deny the accusations?”
Jasen opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He stared hopelessly down at his lap, fighting tears.
“And it seems that this sort of behavior is not confined to your past.”
Jasen looked up at that, furrowing his brow in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“After Lord Bertio’s made his accusations, I questioned some of the servants. Several of them observed you meeting clandestinely with another consort—”
“Lady Risyda?” Jasen interrupted. “But we’re only friends! I have no interest in women—”
“—and a guard,” the minister continued, talking over him. “Which is more troublesome. I have a witness to lewd behavior between the two of you—in the middle of the day, no less—”
Jasen racked his brain, trying to think what on earth he could be referring to. It finally occurred to him—that day Larely had kissed him. “That was a misunderstanding! If you really have a witness, you’ll know that I pushed him away!”
“In that particular instance. Who is to say that there was not more between you when you had more privacy?”
>
“I’m to say!” Jasen shock was rapidly giving way to anger. “You said that you believed my feelings for the king are genuine! If you believe that, then surely you must know that I would never betray Rilvor like that!”
“Then why did you have the guard sent away?”
Jasen was plunged into confusion again. “Sent away? No! He left because of family business!”
“I have another servant who witnessed your good-bye. She said that it was less than proper.”
“I hugged him because he’s my friend! There was nothing improper about it!”
“Even if it were as innocent as you claim, a lord of true breeding would not be so familiar with servants—particularly not with the man in question. After I learned of the improper relationship between the two of you, I did some investigating. It seems that this Larely is from a notorious family of criminals—naturally he would have never been hired had we known.” The minister picked up a quill and began to write. “I will write an order to find him and bring him back to Strengsend, so that I can question him further—”
“No!” Jasen cried.
“—and I believe that I should bring in Lady Risyda as well. Her use of illicit substances and complicity in your affair with this guard makes her presence in Court questionable, at the very best.”
Jasen clamped his mouth shut, since all he seemed to be doing was making things worse for himself. But while he could stop himself from speaking, he couldn’t stop the tears that sprang from his eyes. He wiped them away furiously with his handkerchief and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He would not fall apart in front of this man.
The minister set down his quill. “Of course, if you refuse the king’s proposal, I won’t have any need to investigate any of this.”
So it was blackmail, then. “And what am I supposed to tell him?” Jasen’s voice shook, but didn’t crack.
“The truth—that you are unable to accept the responsibilities of the throne.” The minister peered at him. “Do I have your word that you will not accept his proposal?”
Jasen twisted the handkerchief, unable to reply.
The minister’s lips thinned. “The king won’t be returning for several more days, so you will have some time to think. Once you have gotten over your shock, I am certain that you will see the wisdom of my words. The fate of the Allied Realms lies in your hands—do not let your own selfish desires endanger it.”
He stood. Jasen got to his feet as well, albeit shakily. “Do you need assistance back to your room?”
Jasen shook his head. “I can find my own way.” He had no desire to walk with any valet, now that he knew they were spying on him.
He made his way back to his room as swiftly as he could, doing his best to hold himself together. The moment he was safely inside his own room, he fell to the floor, weeping. The cruelest thing of all was that Adwig was right—he wasn’t good enough. He couldn’t believe he’d deluded himself into believing otherwise.
Chapter 14
Jasen spent the rest of the morning hidden away. Risyda was on an outing with Lady Wessor and he didn’t want to disturb her. Besides, he wasn’t looking forward to telling her what had happened. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to tell her at all. She was certain to urge him to fight, to get the king on his side and push back against Adwig…but that kind of bold action was something more suited to a person like Risyda. Jasen wasn’t a fighter—he never had been.
His initial anger at Adwig’s accusations had dissolved. He was right—there was no way that Jasen could accept a proposal of marriage from Rilvor, and he was a fool for having other thought otherwise. The only question now was whether or not he would accept Adwig’s offer to become Rilvor’s paramour. But the more he thought about it, the less viable it seemed. It wasn’t just that it was an insult to his dignity—indeed, he had very little of that.
The real barrier was that he wasn’t sure Rilvor would agree to it. Rilvor had shown, time and again, that his attraction to Jasen was more than physical. He loved him—of that Jasen had no doubt. And because of his love, he would never accept Jasen being put in a position that degraded him.
But if Jasen couldn’t be king consort, and if Rilvor wouldn’t accept him as his paramour, where did that leave them?
A knock on the door startled him out of his contemplation. When he opened it, a valet presented him with an envelope. “I was told to wait for your answer, my lord,” he said.
Wearily, Jasen opened it. He wondered how all of the nobles who had been courting his favor would feel once they learned all their efforts were for naught. But the note wasn’t from a noble. It was from Lady Isalei. Jasen stomach churned. He wondered if Minister Adwig had let her in on his discoveries.
There was no sense in putting it off. He gathered himself as well as he could and followed the valet to Lady Isalei’s parlor. There was no tea set out this time, and her expression was grave.
Jasen bowed. “Good afternoon, my lady.”
“Good afternoon.” She gestured to the sofa. “Please, have a seat.”
Jasen did as she asked. She sat down not on the chair, but on the sofa beside him. She peered at him with concern in her eyes.
“I’m afraid I have some difficult news,” she said.
Jasen swallowed and braced himself. “Yes?”
She handed him an envelope. “This came for you only just now. I think you best read it.”
Jasen stared at the envelope in puzzlement. It wasn’t the fine, creamy stationary that was used for invitations and other correspondence within the palace. This envelope was dirty, and had clearly traveled some distance. It must be from his father. Jasen tore it open.
O my son, it began.
Your old dad is in some trouble. I am most horribly, most dreadfully ill—my quill shakes as I write this to you—O how it pains me to intrude upon you, but I must see you again, as I lie on what could be my deathbed! It is most selfish of me—hate me not for my mortal weakness! A carriage awaits you to bring you to me—I am at an inn not far from the palace. Please hurry, my son!
Jasen’s heart almost stopped—his father was dying? He read the note again. Why was his father at an inn outside the palace? Had he fallen ill while on the road? In a way, it was better, since he could get to him all the more quickly.
“You must go to him at once,” Lady Isalei said. “The king will understand.”
Jasen nodded vaguely. “Yes, of course.”
She grasped his hand. “Do please write as soon as you learn of his condition. We have many excellent healers who can be of service. Hopefully this illness will pass quickly, and you can return to Court.” She smiled. “And once things are settled between you and the king, I’m sure it would be no trouble to move your father in for a little while, until he recovers.”
So Adwig hadn’t spoken to her. At least he had been spared that awkward conversation. He smiled faintly. “Yes, of course.” He stood. “I should prepare to leave, then.”
Upon returning to his room, he was surprised to see Rotheld there waiting for him. He bowed when Jasen entered. "Lady Isalei has informed me of your immanent departure, my lord. I am sorry to hear of your father's illness."
“Thank you.”
“I have take the liberty of packing your trunk,” Rotheld continued. “And I have selected a traveling outfit for you.”
The outfit in question was another of the outfits that had been lent to him for his time as a consort. “I can’t wear that. It doesn’t belong to me.”
Rotheld frowned. “But surely you will be returning once your father has recovered.”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” He didn’t add that he wasn’t sure he’d be coming back. “I would prefer to wear something from my own wardrobe.”
“Very well.” Rotheld opened the trunk and retrieved the outfit that Jasen had been wearing when he first arrived. It looked so dull now in comparison with the fine clothes he’d grown accustomed to wearing. At least he wouldn’t have to wear
a corset.
Once he was changed, he wrote a quick note to Risyda, explaining his father’s illness. She and Lady Wessor were on an outing and he couldn’t wait to speak to her in person. He didn’t add anything about his meeting with Adwig. He wasn’t sure he would tell her at all—he didn’t want her to know that his friendship with her had been used as blackmail. If she found that out, no doubt she would do something stupid that would imperil her match with Lady Wessor, and he didn’t want that. He would talk to her only once everything had been settled with the king—whether Jasen became his paramour or returned to Grumhul for good. She’d be furious he made a decision without consulting her, but she’d forgive him in time.
He gave Rotheld the note to deliver and bade him farewell. It was difficult because he didn’t know if he would see him again, but he couldn’t let on that that was a possibility. Rotheld had helped him so much. He would miss him.
A valet arrived to carry Jasen’s trunk to the carriage. Jasen had hoped to avoid as many of the other consorts as possible, but unsurprisingly, the news of his father’s illness had already spread. He accepted the well wishes of several consorts as politely as possible while still hurrying along.
The carriage was waiting for him outside, as promised. He had hoped to see his servants Rodrad and Garyild again—their familiar faces would have been a welcome sight—but the coachman was unfamiliar to him.
The coachman opened the door as the valet secured his trunk. Jasen took one last look at the palace. It had seemed like an impossible dream when he had first arrived. Maybe that’s all it was, after all. He gathered himself and got inside. He didn’t look back again.
The coachman told Jasen that his father was staying at The Lucky Shrew, which was the same inn they had stayed at before making their final trek into the city months before. Other than that, the coachman could give him no further details. Different scenarios shuffled through Jasen’s mind, each worse than the last. He thought back to the last time he’d spoken with his father. They hadn’t parted on good terms, to say the least. Tears pricked Jasen’s eyes—he would never forgive himself if the last words between them had been in anger. He and his father didn’t have the best relationship, but he did love him, faults and all.