Page 24 of The Rejected King
It was a logical, sound plan. That’s what Emree would keep telling herself. Real life and real love wasn’t like what she read about in books. There were steps that needed to be taken, plans to be made, and things to accomplish before love could take its course.
She smiled back at Portlend. At least they were together again. Nottogethertogether, but it would have to be good enough for now.
10
Emree
Morning sunlight spilled across the wood floor in King Davin’s office as Emree waited for their Promenade meeting to start. It had been a few days since she had even seen the king, but there was nothing new to discuss with him. The recent headlines from the newswriters were still the same; the briefing hadn’t done much to improve the public’s opinion.
WILL KING DAVIN TAKE THE PROMENADE SERIOUSLY?
CAN WE TRUST THE KING TO FIND ENDERLIN A WORTHY QUEEN?
WHAT’S MORE IMPORTANT TO THE KING...TRANSPORTERS OR THE PROMENADE?
Emree needed to come up with a better plan to help the king’s image. In the last few days, she’d spent most of her time organizing details of the Promenade, things like what girls would be attending the event, what rooms they would stay in, and what activities they would do with the king. Emree worked all day, stopping only to eat and to sleep. She had fallen into a good routine of eating dinner with Officer Millar every night. It was usually brief, but she liked the simple friendship forming between them, especially since they would be spending a lot of time together during Promenade week.
She hadn’t seen Portlend since they had talked outside his building a few days before. Each night, Emree had wanted to walk over to where he stayed, but she had always talked herself out of it. She didn’t want to bother him. He was busy. When things calmed down for him, he would come find her.
Emree looked down at the book in her lap; it was the latest book that the king had left for her to read,And Then There Were None, by Agatha Christie. She thought about reading while she waited but she didn’t want to go too fast. Usually, Emree had no control when it came to books. If they were good, she would stay up all night and finish them. She had to mentally tell herself to slow down with the king’s recommendations. She didn’t want to fly through the books and annoy him by constantly begging for a new book each day. Instead, she opened the book and read the note the king had left for her inside—the note Emree now used as her bookmark.
What did you mean when you said that I was a ‘somewhat normal leader?’ And it may surprise you, but I did notice the love story, and I’m a fan of Peeta. Unfortunately, I do not have the sequel to The Hunger Games. I’m not sure it made it past Desolation. I guess we’ll never know if Katniss ends up with Gale or Peeta or if she dies in the quarter quell. For now, enjoy this murder mystery book. It’s sure to surprise you.
Emree smiled as she traced the king’s handwriting. Then she snapped the book shut. Samson, the royal secretary, had said the king would be a few minutes late to their meeting. Emree didn’t think King Davin would mind if she took a look around. He would’ve had her wait in the foyer by his secretary if he was concerned about her being alone in his office. She left her book on the chair and walked toward the bookshelves.
Her fingers slid across the shelves then dropped as she walked around the king’s desk. Something on the back credenza caught her eye—something that she didn’t recognize. It was a small, white, dome-shaped ball with a cracked black screen on the front. Emree assumed it was a pre-Desolation artifact. Connected to the back of the ball was a white cord that had been severed somehow in all the catastrophes of Desolation. Across the top, Emree read the wordsAmazon Echo XIV.
She glanced over her shoulder before gently picking up the artifact. She had never seen anything like it and wondered what it could have been used for in pre-Desolation times. She had read about how the old civilization had been littered with technology that made life easier but, at the same time, disconnected society. The early Council of Essentials had deemed frivolous technology unessential to survival. Emree assumed that whatever thisEcho XIVwas, it would have been considered unessential to survival these days. She turned the item around in her hands, examining it. Voices in the foyer startled her, and she accidentally dropped the ball. Panic ripped through her as the valuable relic crashed to the ground and rolled under the king’s desk. She dropped to her hands and knees, straining to reach under the desk to grab it, but the ball had rolled to the back panel that covered the front of the desk, forcing her to crawl all the way under.
The voices got louder, and a rush of footsteps moved into the room.
Why, Emree? Why? Why did you have to pick up the artifact?
She froze, recognizing the queen mother’s voice. “Davin, you’ve known for years this would happen. Why are you suddenly against the idea of marrying Patrice Kenson?”
Emree felt the impulse to jump up and say, ‘Surprise!’ but she was entirely under the desk; if she popped up, she would hit her head. Plus, despite all the alarms going off in her head, Emree wanted to hear the king’s answer. She recognized the name from her list of girls coming to the Promenade: Patrice Kenson, twenty-three years old, the daughter of High Ruler Barry Kenson, from the province of Dakotaland. Emree wasn’t some kind of stalker. She had basically memorized the names of all sixty girls on the list from her efforts to figure out the Promenade schedule. But this was the first time Emree had heard that one of the women was already considered a front runner for the king’s heart.
Emree’s stomach cramped.
“Because it’s not my idea,” the king said, irritation dripping from every word. “It’s your dream that I marry Patrice.”
Emree was sure that at any minute, King Davin would come around to sit in his chair and discover her, but then he stopped at the side of his chair. She could see his legs and shoes facing toward the door. He had excellent taste in shoes, and the tailored cut of his navy slacks did wonderful things to his muscular legs and backside.
Had she just checked out the king’s butt? Emree rolled her eyes. What was wrong with her?
Queen Arillia sighed deeply like her son was taking years off her life. “Don’t pretend you haven’t had a crush on Patrice since you were fifteen years old.”
Davin threw his hands out to the side. “I had barely gone through puberty, and Patrice was...well—”
“Stop!” The queen mother laughed. “I have no desire to hear about the fifteen-year-old pubescent version of my son and his love life.”
Emree smiled, loving this inside glimpse of the king’s relationship with his mother.
“However,” she continued, “I am interested in your love life now, and whether you like it or not, Patrice will be at the Promenade in two days and let me tell you, she is more beautiful than she was when you were teenagers.”
Davin placed his hands on his hips. “I know, Mom. I saw her two years ago at Dad’s funeral.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
