Page 43 of The Forgotten Queen
“None of that is true, as far as I know.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” she said.
King Marx turned around, leaning back against the ledge so he faced her. He crossed his legs out in front of him. “The way I see it, we have two choices.”
She met his gaze. “And what might those be?”
“We can resign to our fate. Go on as strangers who are married but who barely talk. Or we can right the wrong that has been done to us.”
“How would we right the wrong?” she asked.
“Do you want to be married to me?”
Her eyes dropped.
“Be honest.” A soft laugh puffed out of him. “I won’t be offended.”
She looked up, shaking her head.
“Good. I don’t want to be married to you either.” He grinned, provoking a shy smile out of her. “So let’s end this marriage.”
Sydria couldn’t believe what she’d heard. “You can end it just like that?” This was working out so much better than she’d anticipated.
“Not really.” He tilted his head back and forth. “Obviously, there is a lot going on behind my back that I don’t know about. We need to figure all of that out first.”
“But you’re the king, so youcanfigure it out, right?”
“I can’t do it alone. I’ll need your help.”
“My help?” Her hand went to her chest. “What could I do?”
“My father wants this marriage to work, and he won’t be satisfied until it does. So…” he dipped his head closer to hers, “you would need to go along with it, pretend like we’re happy and falling in love.” Her eyes widened, and he quickly added, “For now, just until my father is convinced. Meanwhile, we’ll figure out who you are and where you came from and why everyone wants this marriage.”
“I know where I came from. I’m from Northland.”
King Marx frowned. “That’s the thing—there has to be more to your background story than that. My father would never marry me off to a working-class girl from Northland. There would be no advantage to that.”
Sydria’s throat tightened. “I thought the same thing. Why me?” Her hands gripped the railing. She had very few things she knew about her life, and what she did know, King Marx challenged. “Everything is so confusing. I don’t know who is telling me the truth and who isn’t. And I can’t figure out why anybody would lie to me in the first place, so maybe they are telling me the truth and I’m just being dramatic.” She sighed. “I just want to knowwhoI am.”
His eyes softened. “You can trust me. I’ll help you find out the truth.”
He seemed so confident in his plan. “And then?”
“Once we know who you are and where you’re from, we can use that information to free ourselves from this marriage.”
“So you’ll help me figure it out?” She bit her lip, trying to find the caveat in his proposal. “And once you do, you’ll let me walk away?”
He nodded.
“And I can go back to where I’m from?”
“I’ll even provide the transporter to take you wherever you need to go.”
A self-conscious laugh escaped, and she turned her head away. “You really must not want to be married to me.”
He moved his head toward hers, catching her eye. “It’s not you. I just…” It was his turn to look away. “I just don’t think I’m suited for marriage.”
“Oh.”
