Page 13 of Earth Dragon
“I do.”
“You’re ready to deceive your father in this way to get his crown?”
“No,” he disagreed. “Not to get his crown. He’s gotten it in his head that a queen by my side will make me not merely bear the crown but wear it as well. I know he’s thinking that it will make the task of rule seem less arduous when shared with someone else.”
“And you don’t agree?”
“The task of rule will be mine and mine alone, no matter what,” he said.
“And do you not want it?” she couldn’t resist prodding.
“What I want,” he artfully avoided answering the question, “is a way into a mating bond where I’m not actually bound. Neither of us will be constrained.”
“And I may take lovers?”
“Yes,” he said mildly. “As long as they’re vetted and approved by me.”
She crinkled her nose, but felt it was only fair.
He was watching her, patient in ways she wouldn’t have anticipated. Not with the reception he granted her. The trouble was that she knew him, she had spent time with him. He was not a bad man. He would not take advantage of her, even though she supposed that was exactly what he was doing.
But he was giving her a choice.
“So, we slowly fall in love in front of your father?” she asked.
“That would be the idea,” he nodded. “I’ll tell him we spoke tonight. I’ll tell him I realized my error of letting my emotions run away with me and that I’ll try to put more of an effort in. He’ll be pleased that we’re reconciling.”
“And you believe he’ll be so blinded by his own wishes for you that he’ll simply accept the premise that you’ve forgiven me all of my trespasses and wish to bind yourself to me within the span of…?”
“A month.”
“Really?” She raised her eyebrows. “That’s rather fast.”
“Do you need more time to get everything in order for the grand finale of your little scheme?”
She felt herself bristle, her inner dragon growling in soft defiance. “If you truly believe I would do that to you, why would you tell me of the trial in the first place? Why not simply marry some simpering woman who would be more than happy to obey your every whim and keep me locked up and out of the way until the moment of transference is completed?”
“There will be no moment of transference,” he murmured.
She stared at him, expecting him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she bit her tongue to keep herself from pushing for an answer to what exactly that comment meant. Had he already connected with the earthmagic, as Malcolm had connected to the watermagic? Well-known fear rose within her like an anxious fog at the fury that would take over her father if he learned that he had been thwarted. That his last chance at success had come and gone without him even knowing it.
Ewan has told you nothing of what has happened, she told herself.Father cannot take it out on you.
Also, her father was not there. He was nowhere near. But in her experience, he would find a way to make sure that she paid for any perceived slight or failure, no matter what the true circumstances were. And no matter if the fault was all his own.
She could feel how rigid she had grown, her stare lingering. She forced herself to look away but noticed that Ewan had noticed. What must he be thinking? Would he assume that her demeanor was due to the shock of the scheme having been overthrown?
“Good,” she managed. “Then that axe is taken away from this agreement, is it not? For both of us. I can let go of my worry that my scheming will leave me a head shorter, and you may stop thinking that there is any threat to your person on my part. Should I agree to this, however, then it is purely for the transactional nature of it and you have no cause to believe it is for any other reason. A sliver of freedom, a hint of a social status that should serve to protect me from being assassinated… Yes, I accept the prospect and do so with gratitude.”
“Gratitude?” he asked, his mouth quirking in a smile that settled in his eyes and warmed her from her toes to the roots of her hair.
“You know what I mean,” she said.
“You will not be able to wear grey as my queen,” he remarked.
“I know,” she said, wondering if he could hear the acknowledgment in her tone. She would not wish to wear grey. She wouldn’t insist on it. She wanted to dress herself in the colors of his kingdom and make sure he did not see cause to regret asking for her aid. Couldn’t there be some morsel of faith in him, some lasting impression of her that had brought him to her rooms, rather than simple convenience?
It would be such a relief, if she could reach through, make him see.
