Page 98 of The Forgotten Queen
King McKane raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
Sydria turned her focus to Marx. He wasn’t looking at her, creating the perfect opportunity for her to study him. He was dressed in dark pants and a cream button-up shirt, but of course, the top two buttons were left undone. His sleeves were rolled up casually, exposing the veins on his forearms. Blonde hair swept perfectly away from his face, and his jaw had a trace of light stubble running across it. His tone was deep and confident. It was hisbusiness voice,and it made Sydria’s heart unravel.
She had thought the surfing version of Marx was attractive—okay, shestillthought that side of him was attractive—but this other side, the version of him where he commanded a room, added another layer to his sexiness.
He was the chocolate cake they’d eaten at dinner last night—a Cristole delicacy—layered with cream filling, moist cake, chocolate mousse. No layer was better than the other, but all of them combined…well, that made the most perfect dessert Sydria had ever tasted.
“Let’s start with High Ruler Bromley and work our way around the table,” Marx said, nodding at the older man, and then he sat down, giving Bromley his own time to speak.
Marx’s hand rested on top of hers, but his focus remained with the High Ruler. Sydria’s eyes drifted to their joined hands. The movement was intentional, but would anyone in the room take her seriously if she was cuddling in the corner? She pretended to shift in her chair, moving her hands to her lap. It didn’t take long before Marx’s fingers found hers under the table, and she fell victim to his touch. Sydria curbed her smile, trying to focus on what Bromley said. Each High Ruler around the table took a turn, sharing information they’d gathered from their province.
When everyone had spoken, Marx turned to her. “Sydria?”
Her eyes grew. “What?”
“Do you have anything to add?”
“I only planned on being a spectator, not an active participant in the meeting.”
“I’m sure you have an opinion.”
“I just moved to Cristole.”
“So?”
She glanced around the room, unsure if she should speak her mind, but the feelings inside her grew stronger, giving her confidence she hadn’t known she had.
She lifted her chin. “I think if you want to create job security here within your own kingdom…withinourkingdom,” she corrected herself, “then we need to stop purchasing so many items from other kingdoms. Obviously, there will be some situations where trade is necessary, when we can’t manufacture what we need. But in most cases, we can. For example, I believe it was High Ruler Pearson who mentioned that we’re sending money over to the kingdom of Appa for timber.”
High Ruler Pearson nodded. “Yes, a very large sum.”
“As I understand it, the climate in northern Cristole would be perfect for tree farms,” Sydria continued. “If we could find space within a northern province to start growing our own trees for timber, it would provide jobs for our people, and it would keep the money of Cristole inside our own kingdom.”
Her eyes moved to Marx, and he smiled—the big grin, the grin that he usually only reserved for when they were alone. But in a way, it felt like they were alone, like the whole room had disappeared and only he saw her—the real her, even if she didn’t see it yet.
“You’re incredible,” he said, shaking his head, then he turned to the rest of the room. “Isn’t Queen Sydria incredible?”
The room seemed to nod and smile in unison, but all Sydria could feel was the thrill of his compliment.
“High Ruler Pearson, since you’re over a northern province, I want you to make this project happen,” Marx said. “Find the acreage.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Pearson agreed. “I’ll look into our land options and get back to you—”
“No, don’t get back to me.” Marx looked at Sydria. “Report back to the queen. It was her idea. She’ll be in charge of the project from here on out.”
High Ruler Pearson nodded. “I look forward to working with you, Your Majesty.”
“What other ideas for job security do we have?” Marx asked the group.
But Sydria was stuck on chocolate cake, on the layers and layers of hidden sweetness that made her feel like she couldn’t live without it.
Marx
“You wanted to talk to me,”Kase said, popping his head into Marx’s office later that afternoon. “What did I do?” he asked as if he were in trouble.
But it was Marx who was in trouble. Every second he spent with Sydria, he became more invested. She was attractive even at meetings about job security. He needed to find out who she was. He didn’t know what was brewing between them, but he couldn’t go on like this with so many unanswered questions.
“Do you have any new information about Sydria, her uncle, or Otis Sutton?”
