Page 85 of Beacon

My heart fluttered in nervous excitement, a feeling that only grew when he took my hand to lead me into the palace. We slowed at the sound of raised voices coming from within His Majesty’s study. Owen raised his eyebrows in silent question, a look that quickly turned mischievous.

“Shall we eavesdrop?”

Though the idea made me anxious, I allowed him to tug me along as he crept closer to the closed door, a proximity that was entirely unnecessary considering the voices had been loud enough to reach us even at the end of the corridor.

“I cannot believe that after years of positive relations between our countries, Lyceria would be so ill-treated. The king will not be pleased.” The angry voice belonged to the Queen of Lyceria, though I thought I detected a quaver in it. Was she trying not to cry? “For us to come to an understanding, only to arrive after such a long journey to discover my daughter’s intended courting apeasant?”

We both stilled. After exchanging an apprehensive look, Owen made to back away, as if desperate to shield me from the uncomfortable conversation…only to freeze upon hearing the queen’s next words.

“I don’t want your claims that Owen did his duty by courting Lavena. After weeks of half-hearted courtship from the prince during which he devoted most of his attention to someone else, to discover now that it was all a ruse! Lyceria has never been so humiliated.” Her voice was most definitely shaking now.

Owen’s breath caught. “How…how did she—”

“I assure you, I had no knowledge of my son’s duplicity.” The king sounded more grave than I’d ever heard him. “He was raised with an expectation to perform the duties required of him. I fully expected him to honor the agreement I made on his behalf, especially considering he fully understands the benefits such an alliance would bring.”

“I cannot agree with such a claim,” the Lycerian Queen protested. “Not when I’ve seen little encouragement from the Bytamian throne for the match we’ve spent months arranging.”

The king sighed wearily. “When we began our negotiations, I was unaware of his arrangement with Miss Marisa. Upon learning of it, I wanted to value the promise I thought he’d made with her. I place great value in love, and because he’s not due to inherit the crown, I was willing to allow him the opportunity to make his own choice, trusting that the relations our kingdom forged upon my own marriage would hold even if we made no match now.”

“An assumption made in poor judgment,” the queen said. “Such a decision reflects how little Bytamia values their commitments and their relationships with other kingdoms.”

“Bytamia values all our relations,” the king said seriously. “I viewed Princess Lavena and Owen’s marriage as a way to strengthen the connection our kingdoms already share rather than as a means to forge a new one, and in that, I mistakenly placed less value upon our agreement than I should have. But since there is no promise between Owen and Miss Marisa, I see no reason not to sign a contract of marriage between him and Lavena…if that is still agreeable to you.”

A tense silence followed, and Owen’s hand tightened around mine as we waited with bated breath for the queen’s response.

“Despite my personal feelings towards Prince Owen’s treatment of my daughter, Lyceria still desires the benefits the union will bring to both our kingdoms. Thus I agree to the contract of marriage.”

My heart sank at the words. I was losing Owen, even after everything, our love all for naught if, despite our initial scheme, Owen became trapped in the fate he feared: a marriage to a princess he didn’t love.

I scarcely heard His Majesty’s orders to an attending servant to retrieve his son or notice as the door opened to reveal us standing in the hallway. The king’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Your timing is impeccable, Son; I just sent for you. Please, come in.”

Face pale, Owen obeyed with a look he was ascending the scaffold for his execution rather than entering his father’s study. He shakily perched on the edge of the seat beside the Queen of Lyceria, keeping hold of my hand, as if he needed my strength for whatever was to come.

The king sighed as his eyes narrowed at our intertwined hands. “I’ve been informed of the true nature of your relationship with Miss Marisa, making your holding her hand in an effort to continue to pretend unnecessary.”

Despite the accusation, Owen didn’t relinquish his hold on me. I expected him to defend our relationship considering how it’d begun was no longer what it was…but instead his shoulders slumped in defeat. “How did you learn of it?”

“Damon. The topic of you and Miss Marisa came up as I was pondering what to do about the situation with Lyceria. During the discussion, he stated his observations that your relationship was merely a charade, as is his usual manner. He did not inform me out of spite for you or Miss Marisa; he simply wanted to assure me that an alliance with Lyceria and all the benefits that would come from it was still possible, for with his logical mind he always expresses things as they are.”

This was an aspect of the prince’s personality I hadn’t known, neither had I realized he’d paid enough attention to us to come to such a conclusion that we’d initially been pretending.

Owen didn’t seem surprised by the revelation. “I see.” His shoulders slumped further, as if his sense of defeat had grown too heavy to continue to bear.

The king frowned. “Indeed.” His expression grew more serious. “We’ll discuss your ill-treatment of Miss Marisa at another time. For now we must rectify the consequences resulting from your deceit. Considering you’re not truly in another relationship and have had this past month to court Princess Lavena, I see no reason not to sign a contract for your marriage.”

My heart constricted at the words even as my hold on Owen tightened, a futile gesture to keep him despite the king’s attempts to tear him away. His Majesty’s words caused Owen to gather some of his faltered resolve. He straightened. “Father—”

“There is no reason for you to protest,” the king continued in a tone that left no room for argument. “The alliance will be of great benefit to both our kingdoms. I have it prepared and expect you to sign it.” He extended a quill.

Time seemed to still as Owen stared at it. “Father, I—”

But once more, his words faltered before he lowered his eyes and fell silent. Never had a silence ever been so painful. It seemed to reach inside me and rob me of the hope I’d worked so hard to rebuild.

It was as if time had rewound to the day that now felt so long ago when I’d first dined at the palace and become entangled in our fake relationship. Owen had been unable to stand up to the king then too, having lost the voice with which to defend himself the moment he’d needed it. Back then, he’d had less reason to fight, but I’d hoped, after everything, that now…

Feeling dejected, I tried to release his hand, but he maintained a tight grip on me.

“Owen?” The king waited with the quill extended, the contract requiring Owen’s signature laid out before us on the desk. Owen finally looked up, not at his father but at me. For a long moment he stared in soft, desperate yearning before turning to face his father. I gave him a reassuring smile in hopes the gesture would provide him with the strength he needed.

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