Page 32 of Beacon

“You’re supposed to be on my side.”

I could only sigh, but even that wasn’t the response the prince hoped for.

“It’s not as if I haven’t made an effort.” His voice hitched defensively. “I conversed with her at dinner…sort of.” Guilt tugged on his frown before his stance once more became defensive. “But I deserve some credit; at least I haven’t outright ignored her like I’ve been tempted to do.”

If ignoring his intended was all that was required to navigate his unwanted arrangement, I wouldn’t be ensnared in this charade now.

Prince Owen’s complaining was interrupted by the timely arrival of Prince Ronan and Princess Seren. The crown prince helped his wife ease onto the settee before facing his brother with a stern frown. “You shouldn’t be sitting so far removed from your guests.” He kept his voice low enough so that his words wouldn’t drift to the others in the parlor.

The rebuke only soured Prince Owen’s already darkening mood. “Are you here to scold me too?”

“No, but I do want to warn you to exercise caution: it’s only the first day of the Lycerian royal family’s visit and already you’re neglecting your responsibility towards the princess. Bytamia can’t afford to make Lyceria their enemy.”

“I was prepared to do my duty, but unfortunately, there are no available seats near her,” Prince Owen said.

“That’s just an excuse,” Princess Seren said. “You don’t need to be sitting directly beside someone to engage them in conversation; if your effort was sincere, you wouldn’t be ignoring the princess. As a Bytamian prince, you need to do all in your power to maintain your family’s alliances. You’re behaving foolishly.”

Prince Owen bristled at her sharp words. “I already forced myself to converse with her all throughout dinner,” he grumbled.

Prince Ronan and Princess Seren exchanged a look that indicated they clearly shared my opinion that Prince Owen’s occasional comments about the weather and asking after the princess’s travels wasn’t nearly enough to be considered a “conversation.”

Prince Ronan glanced at me, and I couldn’t help but share an exasperated look at Prince Owen’s behavior. The crown prince gave a subtle nod in agreement.

Prince Owen noticed and his scowl only deepened. “It’s so easy for you to expect more from me when you’re not the one expected to marry her.”

Prince Ronan considered. “You make a valid point, and I’m not trying to pressure you into the union. I’m only asking you to exercise caution rather than make it obvious you have no interest in the match Father has been arranging.” Prince Owen opened his mouth to protest, but Prince Ronan talked over him. “I don’t agree that Father should have arranged it without your consent, but there’s nothing we can do about his manipulations now. We can only make the best of the situation, and the first step in doing so is not to do anything that would harm our relations with Lyceria.”

“Such a task is impossible,” Prince Owen protested. “It doesn’t matter how I go about it; even the most polite rejection would be viewed as an insult. I’m trapped.” He looked less grumpy now and more lost.

Prince Ronan hesitated. “If it comes to that, then you’ll likely have to heed Father’s wishes and make the best of the arrangement.”

Prince Owen’s bad temper flared once more. “Easy for you to advise such a thing, considering you got to choose your spouse. But unlike with your wife—whose intelligence and leadership qualities have always been well-known—there’s never been a single positive rumor about my own intended in all the years I’ve known her.” He gave his brother a challenging look, daring him to prove him wrong.

Prince Ronan seemed to have no response to that, though his wife did. “Don’t dismiss Princess Lavena entirely. I understand her attitude is…difficult, but through my own experiences I’ve come to understand there’s likely a reason for her behavior. I’m truly grateful I met a man who was willing to see beyond the mask I hid behind.”

She wove her hand with Prince Ronan’s, and they exchanged a tender smile.

Prince Owen sighed. “I don’t carewhyshe is the way she is, only that I don’t want to be the one to suffer for it.”

“It’s too early to determine whether or not that is where this arrangement will go,” Prince Ronan said. “Regardless of the outcome, you’re expected to conduct yourself with politeness and dignity.” His lecture finished and he helped his pregnant wife to her feet.

She wound her arm through his and glanced towards me with a wry smile. “Don’t let Owen do anything too foolish.” And with that the two departed to take seats closer to the others.

The moment they left, Prince Owen released a weary sigh and leaned his head back, looking as if he’d just endured an arduous battle rather than a brotherly exchange. I offered what support I could by giving his leg a gentle pat. He took up my hand, holding it comfortably, a friendly gesture given not for the sake of the charade but one that allowed us to rely on one another’s strength.

His reprieve was short-lived, for he was soon visited by another member of his family. At Prince Jaron’s approach I gave Prince Owen’s hand a gentle squeeze, and when that didn’t work, I nudged him instead. His eyes snapped open and immediately narrowed at his brother.

“Are you here to encourage me to do my blasted duty as well?”

Prince Jaron lifted his hands. “What an accusation. I’d never wish Princess Lavena on my worst enemy, let alone my brother.”

Prince Owen didn’t appear convinced. “Then why are you here if not for a lecture like the one I just endured from Ronan?”

“Lectures are the role of anolderbrother, but lucky for you I’m ayoungerone.” Prince Jaron glanced towards Prince Ronan and Princess Seren, who seemed to be making an effort to dispel Prince Owen’s rudeness by giving pointed attention to the princess themselves. Prince Jaron leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Are they really encouraging the match?”

“They’re more concerned about me not offending Lyceria with my blatant disinterest,” Prince Owen grumbled.

“I thought you’d made an admirable effort at dinner.”

---