Restoring Dermot

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Restoring Dermot Page 8

by Andrea Boyd


  I could not help but wonder what they did to the women once they began losing their faculties. I glanced sideways at him but knew better than to speak.

  “This kingdom needs a strong ruler. One that will work in harmony with our kinsmen. This prince your father has his mind set on is no man at all. A true leader would never abandon his homeland and people and then expect to be welcomed back with open arms. This man will not lead your people to victory. His family runs the rest of this country. He would side with them in every conflict.”

  Uncle Galik stopped talking suddenly and took another deep breath. There was some truth to the part about Rian abandoning Gilvary and his family, but he was only fifteen when he left Kearnley. And what conflict did my uncle imagine? There was no conflict to speak of in Kearnley, and it was more than likely because of the two brothers ruling two-thirds of the country.

  He reached out as if he was about to touch my hands but stopped short. “Daughter, you must accept my counsel. Allow me to find you a husband of honor. Your father cannot go on ruling as he has. He needs the help of a strong-minded man—not this prince.”

  Father’s personal servant, Brasil, came into the room at that very moment, saving me from having to give a reply. Even if I wanted to marry a man of his choosing, I could never defy my father in that manner.

  “Princess Adrika, the king would like to see you in his chambers.” Brasil waited at the door to escort me to my father’s room.

  As I stood to leave, Uncle Galik grabbed my arm. “Go, but think about what I have said.”

  I never thought the blue and purple of my parent’s suite suited my father, but it was his one concession to my mother. Most of the castle was decorated in the style of her homeland. When I entered the sitting room of his suite, Father was sitting in his overstuffed armchair. The lively paisley design covering the furniture contrasted with the dark look in his eyes as he glanced my way.

  Rian was pacing the floor behind him, his features just as stormy as the king’s. The prince whipped around at the sound of the door closing behind me and headed my way. He was stopped in his tracks when General Cormac’s staff smacked across his chest. The warrior said something to him that I could not hear. I continued into the room and curtsied before my father.

  “Have a seat.” He gestured to the end of the sofa next to him.

  I could not imagine what was going on here. Had Father, like my uncle, assumed we had spent the last hour entangled on the bed of his making? I was still confused and hurt that he would go to such lengths to begin with. When had his love for me died?

  “Daughter, you should be smiling. By tomorrow afternoon, you will be a bride. Prince Rian has asked for your hand in marriage.”

  Asked or was forced? I took a chance to glance over at Rian. He seemed to be trying to send a pleading message using only his eyes, but I was clueless as to what he was trying to convey.

  “Tomorrow? I . . .” There was no way I could be ready by the next day, but I was helpless to argue with him.

  “The decision has been made. I see no reason to wait. Prince Rian, come join us.”

  I did not look at Rian as he made his way over to sit beside me, even when he reached for my hand and held it on his knee. He squeezed my hand, but I could not respond. My limbs felt numb and tingly as I stared at the floor in front of me.

  “My family cannot make it here by tomorrow. They are not even aware that I am here in Dermot. Why are you insisting on such a speedy wedding?”

  “After you are wed, you will no longer be my prisoner. You may go visit your family any time you like. I see no reason to wait. The sooner you are wed, the sooner you can see your family.”

  Rian scooted a little closer to the edge of the seat. “I would think your daughter would deserve time to plan a wedding fit for princess. What about her family and friends? Should they not have an opportunity to attend?”

  “I will not provide such an extravagant wedding for a daughter that has been defiled.”

  I sucked in a breath and began to shiver. The more they talked, the more I felt the heat seep from my body. Rian must have felt it. He moved closer to me and rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb. Why was he not defending me against this accusation? We had not done anything wrong. Then it hit me. Rian had not defiled me, but someone else had. My stomach churned, making me wish I had not eaten.

  The two men sat staring at one another before Rian spoke up. “Let it be so. We will say our vows tomorrow. As you said, after that, I will no longer be your prisoner. I expect to be treated differently then. I expect both of us to be treated differently. My wife will no longer scrape and bow before you like one of the servants. We will be next in line for your throne, and you will treat us as such.”

  The room was deathly quiet. I took a chance to glance over at my father. He was glaring at Rian, his lips pressed tight. “After tomorrow, my daughter will be in your control. You can do with her as you like. After tomorrow, you will be crown prince of Dermot, but I will still be king. That is tomorrow. Today you are still my prisoner. “General, escort Prince Rian to his chambers. He can remain there until the evening meal. After that, he will be free to walk about the grounds as before.”

  I remained where I was, awaiting further instructions. Father waited several minutes after Rian left before he spoke. “You might as well leave too. I am sure you have plenty to do before the big day tomorrow.”

  I stood on wobbly legs and turned to go. “Daughter, are you not forgetting something? You do not belong to the prince as of yet.”

  “Sorry, Your Highness.” I turned and curtsied, hoping all the time that I would not fall over before I made it up again. I do not know what made me call him Your Highness. I was expected to “bow and scrape” as Rian had said, but I had always been allowed to call the king Father. He did not feel like my father at this moment. I wondered if he ever would again.

  Once I made it to my room, I sat down on the bed, my back against the oaken headboard. Why had Rian not made an attempt to escape from this place already? I hated that he was being forced into marrying me. Every conversation from the last hour and a half replayed over and over again in my mind. According to what was said in Father’s room, after tomorrow I would belong to Rian. He would rule over me in my father’s stead. Although, I doubted that was the way it would go. Father was still the king so I would have two rulers instead of one. The oppressive feeling of being caged in was almost unbearable.

  Damini stepped quietly into the room. She spared me a glance as she made her way over to my wardrobe and began shifting through the garments hanging there. “I am told your father has chosen a groom for you. Are you excited about the wedding tomorrow?”

  An unexpected sob escaped my throat. She came rushing toward me as I buried my face in my hands. The bed dipped as she sat down beside me and then pulled me into a hug. She did not say anything as she rubbed my back in soothing circles while I released my pent-up emotions.

  “I mean nothing to him.”

  “Surely the prince will come to love you in time.” Her whispered words were more like a prayer than a conviction.

  “I meant Father. It is as if whatever feelings he had for me died with my mother.”

  “I am sure . . . I am sure he loves you still, but losing Queen Babree was hard on him.” She did not sound sure. Nothing anyone could say would make me believe he had any tender feelings left for me. What did it matter anyway? I pulled away and wiped at the tears on my face.

  “Mini, what am I going to do about tomorrow? I am not ready for this. Nothing has been planned, I have nothing to wear. I suppose I will need to walk over to the chapel and let the vicar know. Father refuses to step foot in the church, and he will not allow the vicar to come here. I have no idea how this will all come together. Not to mention the fact that I must write my own vows for this loveless marriage. What am I going to say?”

  She reached for my hands that were still shaking. “Perhaps more has been planned than you realize. The king
has asked your uncle to perform the ceremony. In Cordelia, we do not make up our own vows. Everyone uses the same words, and they may be spoken in front of any man older than the groom. Your uncle will tell you what to say when the time comes. As for what you will be wearing, your father is having your mother’s wedding outfit prepared. He expects you to wear that.”

  I remembered her wedding dress. Mother would take it out occasionally to show it to me. I could still remember the feel of the ivory silk covered in golden beads and embroidery. She had told me the story of her wedding day many times. Always, she spoke of how happy she had been, while saying nothing of the fear she must have felt.

  Would this wedding be any different if she was still here? She had no more control over the happenings in her life than I had in mine. But maybe Father would not have the bitterness he carried now. And if she were still alive, I may not have been so vulnerable to Brett’s persuasion. There was no use lamenting my mistakes. I could do nothing to change the past now. The future was out of my hands as well.

  Eleven

  Rian

  I paced the floor of my bedchamber, trying to dispel my anger toward King Farris. My efforts were futile when they could in no way put a stop to my thoughts. How could he do this to her? He treated his daughter like a common harlot. She deserved to be courted and proposed to properly—not have her reputation sullied in exchange for him getting his way. One thing was certain, once she was my wife, the princess would never be treated this way again.

  The door of her room closed and then I heard murmurings of conversation. Leaning against the wall between our chambers, I closed my eyes in concentration as I tried to make out what was being said. It was of no use. The utterances coming from the room next door could not be deciphered. The image of her sitting stiffly on her father’s sofa played itself out behind my eyelids. She had been so pale. I rubbed my palms together, remembering how her hands had trembled.

  I wanted to go to her, to console her, and let her know things were not as I had planned them either. I wanted to give her assurance of a much better future. But one step away from my room would land me into trouble. Just outside my window, a guard stood sentry while another waited out in the hallway. I stepped over to pull the curtain closed. Normally, it would not matter, but I did not need further punishment standing in my way of being able to speak to the princess in the near future.

  With a sigh, I plopped down on my bed with my arm behind my head so I could stare up at the ceiling. Had proposing been the right thing to do? It had been a speedy decision on my part. It was not like me to be so impulsive. It had felt right at the time, and as I relaxed and thought it all through, it still felt right.

  My mind switched to thoughts of the better moments of this day—speaking with the vicar, my conversation with the princess, the kisses we had shared. I longed to relive that last part. I had asked if I could see her later that day, and she had said yes. Did she feel the same after our meeting with her malicious father?

  Her door opened and closed again. It felt like an eternity had passed. How much longer would I have to stay in this room? According to the clock on top of my wardrobe, it was five minutes until dinnertime. Royalty were expected to be seated at precisely six o’clock, and since I had been allowed to sit on the dais next to Adrika, I assumed I was expected to be there as well.

  Rising from my bed, I quickly checked my reflection in the mirror. I ran a brush through my hair, and then rushed out the door.

  I came up short as the warrior stepped in front of me. His face was an impenetrable mask. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To the dining hall for supper. Where else would I go at this time of day?”

  “The king said you were not to be released until six o’clock. You will not leave until then.”

  The king would likely be more upset over my tardiness, but I did not say anything more. Folding my arms across my chest, I leaned into the door frame and commenced to staring at the man in front of me. I had the ability to make people uncomfortable with just a look, and it was working now. He tried to stare back at me but soon began to fidget as he stole glances. I wondered if it had occurred to him that I would one day rule over him. He finally looked at his pocket watch, nodded and then stepped aside.

  Long strides brought me quickly to the dining hall. Such haste was not because I cared about the king’s irritation over my tardiness. My urgency was caused by my desire to see Adrika. We would be married by the next day, and I wanted things to be right between us. Entering through the door leading to the dais, I took my seat beside the princess.

  She may have been the only one in the room who had not turned to look at me when I entered. Scornful glares were aimed my way from many of those seated below us. No doubt the rumor of our unchaperoned meeting in the library had circulated the population within the castle.

  Surprisingly, Princess Adrika was still wearing the same clothes as before. For as long as I had known her, she had always changed into one of her beaded outfits for each meal. The only change was that her dark hair hung in waves down her back now. I had to fight the urge to rub the silky strands between my fingers.

  Then she turned slightly toward me without looking up at my face. It was enough for me to see that her lips were turned down at the corners and sadness was evident in her glassy eyes. I wanted to console her, but I would not do so here.

  “Princess, I wondered if you would take a walk with me after supper.”

  “If that is your wish, Your Highness.”

  I sighed as I pushed my food around on my plate. “I do not think your father would like you using Your Highness when addressing me. He would probably prefer you call me prisoner. That is what he does, is it not? Label everyone by their position in accordance to him.”

  It was true. I had never even heard him call the princess anything other than daughter. And the way he said it made her seem more like a possession than someone he cherished. Judging by the way he had treated her since my arrival, that was indeed how he saw her.

  She did not say anything, her stare remained fixed ahead with her lips pressed tight. I should not have spoken to her about her father, but I was so angry with him. I leaned forward and looked down the table. The king had the same smug look as before. Adrika’s uncle was leaning toward him with his lips moving rapidly, but of course, I could not make out what he was saying. He stopped speaking immediately and scowled when he saw me looking at him.

  Sitting upright, I looked at the princess again. She had stopped eating and was sitting there with her hands in her lap. Judging from the food on her plate, she had done little more than move its contents around with her fork.

  I ate a little more of my own food while chafing at having to sit there until the king declared the meal finished. Even in Gilvary, no one left the royal table until the king was done. My father had always preferred to linger at the table, but the meal was considered finished when he dropped his napkin on his plate. I had noticed that King Farris rose as soon as he was done.

  There would not be much daylight left for our walk as it was. We could certainly talk on the bench outside the princess’ bedchamber door, but I wanted her to see my face and know of my sincerity. She needed to understand that I had not intended for things to go the way they had in her father’s chambers. And I wanted to give her my betrothal ring.

  Reagan had allowed me to pick one from among the rings in our family vault on my thirteenth birthday. It was an honored tradition, marking me as a man who would one day be expected to choose a wife worthy of my kingdom. I had cherished the emerald ring, carrying it with me when I left Gilvary. It had been in my possession these last ten years, and I had never had a desire to place it on another woman’s hand—not even the one who had carried my child. I quickly pushed that thought aside.

  The sound of a chair scraping against the floor had me looking in the direction of the king once again. I stood only because Adrika did. She turned and curtsied as King Farris walked by with her uncle
in tow. Neither of them even looked our way. As soon as they were gone, I grabbed her hand and tugged her closer to me. I placed her hand in the crook of my arm and escorted her out.

  Once in the hallway, I made a point of turning in the opposite direction from the king. “That is the last time you will ever stand just for the sake of bowing down to the king. Neither of my brothers or even my father ever expected such an act from their families. You should be treated with the respect of a cherished daughter, and after we are married, it will be so.”

  She turned her head away from me and did not speak until we came to an outside door. “Where are we going?”

  “You agreed to go for a walk with me.”

  “But I am not dressed for such an outing.”

  Did she think we would be scaling the side of the mountain? A stroll is what I had in mind, but I would not argue with her. Besides, I had not considered the fact that neither of us were wearing our cloaks. I turned us back toward her chambers. When we arrived, I reminded her that it would be dark soon and told her that I would be waiting outside on her veranda.

  Entering through my own bedchamber, I retrieved my cloak and then made my way outside. No guard had been in sight since I had been released for supper, but without a doubt, they were still close by. I walked out to the trail and looked both ways, but no one was in view. Escape was no longer on my mind. I had just as much made a vow to marry the princess, and I would never willingly go back on my word. At the moment, privacy was my only concern.

  It did not take the princess as long as I expected. She had donned the same trousers, boots, and cloak she had been wearing the last time I had seen her on this trail. I took her free hand in mine and pulled it up to my lips. She did not even look up when I kissed the back of her fingers. No tell-tale blush colored her cheeks either. All I could see was a raw vulnerability and a resolve to endure her fate. I wanted to do something to change her mood but had no clue of how to do so.

 

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