“Father, she’s here,” Nickolas whispered, and King Andreas raised his eyes from the table. His gaze stopped on the young woman that had just entered the hall, slowly making her way toward them. Andreas gestured for his advisors to leave and turned toward his son, trying to read his expression. The boy, for his thirteen winters of age, seemed to understand his two sisters much better than their own father. Now he was stepping from one foot to the other, biting the inside of his lip like he was nervous.
Andreas still felt relief every time he looked at Nickolas, proud of the man he was quickly becoming. He loved his daughters dearly, but before his son came into the world, he was afraid that his bad fortune would leave him with no male heir. He had almost come to terms with that thought and even started devising a plan that would allow Isabelle to somehow inherit the throne, but even then his closest advisors warned him it would be an uphill battle.
While he wanted to believe that Anamir was a place of progress and nurture where skill and spirit were more valuable than gender and pedigree, he still had a lot of advisers who were heads of strong noble families, but were firmly living in the past and tightly holding on to outdated traditions and silly prejudice. There had been only a few female rulers in the past, all temporary regents with little to no real power, and the time was such that Andreas thought it unwise to push the idea forward.
So he waited and prayed. And a couple of winters after Elaine’s birth, he was rewarded with a son. But the joy he felt that day was quickly dulled by the loss of his beloved wife, who died a few days after the poor boy’s life began.
This was also the last day he saw Isabelle weep. A few days after her mother’s death, her attitude suddenly changed from that of a happy, carefree five-winters-old child to a person with singular determination and goals, and no matter how much her nannies tried to make her play with other noble children and do things outside of her studies, she would dismiss them and grab a book instead.
“She seems in good spirits. That means she doesn’t know yet,” Nickolas mumbled again, plastering a smile on his face as his older sister joined them.
Andreas followed his example, watching the beautiful young woman slide by the table to greet them. She moved gracefully, her careful expression as calculating as ever. She looked so much like her mother that it was uncanny. But unlike Alyssa’s quiet power and withdrawn personality, Isabelle always had something to say and liked to involve herself in things that were better left alone. And she did that so well, it made people uncomfortable.
If he had to be honest, Andreas would have preferred not to give her the news himself. For all her good qualities, she possessed one more dangerous than most — she was stubborn to a fault, relentless in her endeavors to do things in what she thought was the right way. A precious gift for a ruler, but a dangerous one for a woman of her standing.
“You’ve asked for me, father,” she said with a polite smile. Her lustrous red hair, the same as her late mother’s, was falling freely over her shoulders, framing her delicate face. Her blue eyes watched the two of them with sharp intelligence, barely hidden behind a set of long, thick eyelashes. Even without makeup, beautiful dresses, and expensive jewelry, she could make men turn heads after her — just like her mother did when he first met her. If it wasn’t for her engagement to Prince Reuben, Andreas feared he’d be spending half of his days writing rejections for her marriage proposals. She curtsied, and her eyes rose to look back at the two men. “What is on your mind? You both look troubled.”
“Have you spoken to Elaine?” Nickolas asked, and his sister’s attention switched to him. Nickolas met her gaze for a moment, then he looked down at the table.
“I have not,” she replied slowly, her thin eyebrow arching. “Why?” She approached the table, eyes falling on the piece of paper with Roder’s seal broken in half. Nickolas tried to grab it first, but she was faster, sending him a suspicious look before lowering her eyes to the paper. Her trained smile faded almost immediately, and when she finished reading, the parchment slipped through her fingers, slowly descending toward the marble floor. She seemed at a loss for words for a moment, then, to the king’s surprise, she turned to her brother first.
“Did you know?” she asked with such coldness that Andreas could swear he saw Nickolas shiver. The boy opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He sent a pleading look to his father, but then quickly turned back to his sister as she spoke again. “How could you keep this from me?”
Nickolas took a deep breath to compose himself, then raised his chin stubbornly.
“I’ve been asked to keep it a secret, Isabelle. And you know I can keep a secret when I am asked to,” he replied with a shaky voice, his tone full of warning. Her expression remained calm and painfully controlled, her polite smile returning.
“Nickolas...” she said gently, but he just continued to stare at her with his lips pursed. Isabelle turned toward the king who watched them curiously, a deep sadness seizing his heart as he thought of all the things his children were bound to go through, all the hardships and losses they were fated to endure. He had often considered sending them all away, somewhere where nobody would find them, but he knew that would be selfish, ending in an even bigger catastrophe. He also knew Alyssa wouldn’t want that, despite how much she loved each of them.
Their blood was destined for so much more.
“Father…”
He raised his hand, silencing her at once. His good spirits had left him with the arrival of all those dark thoughts, and he was not willing to even let her try to argue against his decision. He was the king; he did not need her approval. She didn’t even know half of the reasons behind his actions.
“I don’t want to hear it,” he said sharply.
“I beg of you, father, this betrothal is absurd! It makes no sense to align Anamir with a country that has nothing to offer! I can give you a list of potential candidates. For the love of the Gods, even Nickolas can tell this match makes no sense! You...”
Andreas took a step toward her, placing his hands on her shoulders. Her words ceased, but there was still anger in her eyes. Andreas loved this quality of hers, her willingness to protect the ones she loved, no matter the cost. He loved her kind, caring heart, but she would soon learn that in order to be a good ruler, one had to carve their heart out and lock it away safely, never to be used in matters of the state.
She had to learn to never show her thoughts and opinions, and make her moves in the shadows. The freedom she had in Anamir, both in words and actions, was going to vanish once she was wed. Not because she was going to part with it willingly, but because she would have no choice but to adapt to her new surroundings. And her future father-in-law was going to take immense pleasure in bending her under his will.
“My decision is final, and it is not up for discussion.” Isabelle opened her mouth, but he raised a finger and she quickly closed it. “If you want to accompany Elaine on her journey to Roder, you will do well not to show your discontent. Fail to convince me or her that you think this marriage is anything less than a blessing, and that you will not even attend her wedding. I’m sure your sister will have something to say on the subject and I’m sure you will convince her to leave behind her childishness and act like a woman who is about to become a queen. Do we have an understanding?”
She gave him a stiff nod, lips sealed together. Andreas held back a sigh.
“Go,” he finally said, and she turned, leaving them without so much as a word. Andreas glanced at his son, who was just scratching the back of his head. “That went well,” Andreas said, but Nickolas didn’t even smile, a thoughtful expression on his youthful face.
“I thought I was concerned about her reaction,” the boy sighed, still looking after her. “Now I am more concerned about the lack of such. She gave up too easily.” He glanced toward his father, who was just thinking the same.
“Maybe she realized I am the king and arguing with me is pointless.” Andreas shrugged, smiling at his son. He sincerely doubted that was the case, even as he said it. And he doubted his threat would be enough to keep her from interfering and he very well expected her to try something in Roder — not in an obvious, blatant way, but in one that would leave the others thinking they had come up with the idea first. That’s how she usually acted when she was not allowed to openly oppose his orders. But it didn’t matter, none of it mattered, because that’s how it was supposed to be.
“You’re the king and your word is law, father,” Nickolas said, but Andreas could feel the ‘but’ coming even before his son finished the sentence, “but this is Isabelle we’re talking about. I think she’ll try to do something. Not here, because you’ll stop her from going, but maybe in Roder.” Nickolas met his father’s eyes and Andreas smiled with pride. His heart felt lighter, thinking that no matter what happened to him, his kingdom would fall into good hands. “I just hope they will both forgive me for not telling them.”
“They will, my boy,” Andreas said, squeezing his shoulder. “They are your blood. You’re the future king of Anamir. Their loyalty will lie with you first, then with their husbands.”