AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Business, Clara. This is business.
“As I’ve said, the king has been in his seat for quite some time, and through the Betrothal Games, I hope to change that.”
There. That certainly steered the conversation back into calmer waters. No matter that there was a prickling urge to tell him more, to expand and compound on not just the role he’d volunteered for but the role she’d enact from him once he took the throne.
Gosh, she felt grimy, the kind of oiliness that didn’t just coat the skin but tainted everything it came into contact with, staining whatever good it touched just for the benefit of getting to touch it in the first place.
Guilt was funny like that.
“I need a monarch,” she breathed out, and dammit, she hated how strong the defeat came through in her statement, as if she’d lost before she’d even played her hand. But thankfully, her desperation, far more than her despair, was a damn good motivator. “The lycans need a ruler who will support them in how they wish to thrive, not trample them for refusing to fall in line. If you prosper in the games, my father will have no choice but to acknowledge you as the winner and next in line to the throne upon our mating. It is my hope that after we are married, you will see what must be done and rule in a just and fitting manner.”
“Whoa. Those are a lot of big heavy words you’re throwing at me, princess.”
“Lady. Or Clara, if you prefer,” she reminded him. Best get him in the habit of properly addressing her before they arrived.
The heat of his unexpected smile was enough to cause her cheeks to warm further.
“Oh, I didn’t forget. I just find it pleasing.”
She squirmed and pulled her cloak more tightly around her. “What is pleasing?”
“The way your color rises whenever my compliments land.”
“You didn’t offer me any compliments.”
“I didn’t need to.” He shrugged. “You seemed to like it just fine when I smiled at you, so I’ll make sure to do it more often. It’s always the simple things, am I right?”
“That is highly inappropriate,” she murmured.
“The jury’s still out on that one. Speaking of simple, though, there are two things that don’t make sense to me about this whole mating thing.”
Clara threw her shoulders back, attempting to shake off his, well, whatever his comments were. They certainly weren’t compliments. Jests at her expense, more like. “Yes?”
“What happens to your father in this little fairy tale?”
Ah, yes, that was the question, wasn’t it?
Careful, Clara. Tread lightly.
“It is true he will remain in rule even once we are mated, but it is my hope that, with you being in a position of power, perhaps you may make decisions or recommendations that would . . . ease his command. Take some of the governing weight off his shoulders or persuade him not to pursue such ruthless tactics. Or maybe?—”
“Why don’t I just kill him and leave your people to you?”
There wasn’t a force on earth that would have pried her feet from where they’d been glued to the ground. The whole of the forest could have split open, swallowed up every tree and root in sight, and Clara would have happily stood there soaking in this stranger’s words.
Words that had mimicked her own shameful thoughts time and time again for as long as she could remember.
“I-I cannot recommend . . . That is, it would never be possible . . . How could I . . .”
“You couldn’t, or you would have offed the male already instead of nearly running yourself into a watery grave.”
Clara swallowed down the hard truth, wishing again that her foolishness wasn’t painted so boldly in every one of her actions and words. Out of reflex, she reached for her people’s relic, needing to hold it tighter against her, to feel its connection to her goals anchored more deeply within her, but even that simple act of self-comfort didn’t escape the angel’s notice, so she quickly lowered her hand.
“Which brings me to my second question,” he added. “Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that the king was no longer in the picture.”
Only in her most private thoughts could she even bring herself to imagine such a future, and there they were, boldly discussing her father’s death as if it was no more significant than a routine summer thunderstorm. Just the idea set her skin to trembling and had that secret starved part inside her eyeing the temptation with rapt hunger.
“I get the patriarchal society bit, and the need for you to break out of whatever cage the asshole’s put you in?—”
