The Prince’s Heart

24. Chapter 24

Chapter twenty-four

M other’s eyebrows rise higher and higher as she reads the message once, then a second time. Glad to know I wasn’t the only one who did a double take . Some small part of me was hoping she’d tell me I’m overreacting, or that there’s some important factor that I missed, but based on her reaction I’m guessing that’s not the case.

After finishing, she wordlessly hands it back to me. I don’t need to read the message again, but I do anyway. King Darien, Please allow me to offer my condolences on the unfortunate deaths of your father and brother. They were both taken before their time, and all Zeteyon mourns with you. Still, just because we share your grief, it does not mean that we will blindly act against our own interests. To that end, I regret to inform you that I find your proposal to renew the alliance between our two nations to be most objectionable and, to be frank, mildly insulting. What you suggest would be highly detrimental to Zeteyon, and I cannot in good conscience agree to it. Therefore, I consider the alliance between our two nations to be ended. Zeikas, King of Zeteyon

Mother and I continue to sit in silence for a little while longer, until she finally says, “Are you certain this is real? Zeikas can be standoffish at times, but this is completely unlike him.”

I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had similar thoughts. “Joram said the messenger who delivered it bore papers with proper identification. Besides, the seal is correct, and that would be hard to fake. I suppose we have to accept that it’s real. Unless you think differently?”

She shakes her head, and any tiny hope I had clung to that this is a fake vanishes.

“I knew there was a chance Uncle Zeikas wouldn’t want to renew the alliance, but how was my letter insulting? I didn’t think there was anything objectionable in it, and neither did you.”

“Of course I didn’t. That’s because it was a perfectly reasonable request. I can’t imagine how he would find anything in it even remotely insulting.” She grimaces. “This just doesn’t seem like him. Perhaps I just don’t know my brother as well as I think I do.”

“You don’t really think that’s true, do you?”

Her eyes meet mine for a second before she looks down and sighs. “No, probably not. I suppose it’s possible that he’s gone a bit mad. Or maybe his response doesn’t reflect his true feelings—perhaps it was written by someone else, or perhaps he has some political reason for rejecting an alliance that we can’t even guess at. But in any event, it’s not good.”

Don’t I know it. “Should we write him another letter? Or maybe have our ambassador in Osella go see if they can placate him?”

“I doubt it would do any good. Once he’s made up his mind on something, he can be very difficult to sway. I may not know him as well as I used to, but I doubt that much, at least, has changed.” She pauses thoughtfully. “Although…”

I wait for her to continue, but when she doesn’t, I prod. “Yes?”

She thinks for a few seconds more before snapping back to reality. “Nothing. Just a silly idea.” She reaches out and puts her hand on my knee while her gaze meets mine. “Darien, you know what this means. If we don’t have the alliance with Zeteyon to fall back on, we’ll have to create another. And right now, the best option for that is…”

I taste ashes in my mouth. “I know. Jirena Sadai.”

“You don’t have to do anything just yet. There’s no reason to act rashly as long as Arbois is still interested. Besides, there’s still a chance, even if it’s a small one, that we’ll find out this letter is a hoax.” Her gaze, as cold as ice, holds mine fast. “But if it eventually comes to a point where you must choose between marrying Arbois or leaving Soeria vulnerable to attack, there is only one choice you can make. You cannot throw away the country’s security just so you can marry someone you love.”

“I understand.” This is why I never wanted to be king . “I just hope it never gets to that point.”

“I hope so as well, and I’m going to work my hardest to make sure it doesn’t. In the meantime, we’ll need to keep this between the two of us. We don’t want anyone to hear about this just yet, including the council. But I promise you I’ll do what I can to fix this situation.”

A few tears start to form in my eyes; I’m not sure whether they’re from gratitude for Mother’s words or sadness at the thought that I might actually have to marry Arbois. “Thank you, Mother,” I reply. “If we’re lucky, nobody will find out for a while, and we can keep delaying while we figure out what to do.”

I should have known better than to count on luck being on my side.

It starts, unsurprisingly, at a council meeting. By this point, I’ve accepted the fact that they’re boring, and made peace with it. Sometimes, I even appreciate it. When things get interesting, that usually means something bad has happened, and I do not need more bad things in my life right now.

This particular meeting, held three days after I received the disappointing response from Uncle Zeikas, starts off just as boring as the rest of them. Lord Boyhont gives the council an update on the ongoing repairs of the city walls. Count Haeron tells a rambling story that doesn’t seem to have a point. Or an ending, for that matter. Duchess Badami requests funds for a school to be built in her hometown of Elikot. That sort of thing.

But just as I’m starting to think I might get away with only a minor headache, Archduchess Rolsteg clears her throat. I can feel hair starting to rise on the back of my neck as she looks at me with a gleam in her eyes.

“Excuse me, Your Majesty,” she says, idly playing with her long, brown hair. “I recently heard news that I found very concerning, and I would like to present it to the rest of the council. Hopefully Your Majesty or another councilor can confirm that it is false.”

Does this have something to do with her and Arbois’s little chat ? I have no idea what she’s up to, but I’m sure it won’t be good. “Go ahead, Rolsteg. What is this news?”

She pauses for a bare second, and my heart starts to drop in anticipation. “What I heard, Your Majesty, is that our alliance with Zeteyon no longer exists.”

The reaction to her words is as if a bomb went off in the room. Everyone except Rolsteg and myself starts talking loudly, their voices clamoring to be heard immediately. I can’t make out what any one person is saying, and they all look either confused, frightened, or disbelieving. Meanwhile, Rolsteg herself does her best to adopt an innocent expression, but I know it’s fake. Even if she didn’t have anything to do with Father and Samis dying—which I seriously doubt by this point—she must have read the message I received from Zeikas. But how ?

Then it comes to me. I wonder if she’s been spying on our mail ? That would explain how she found out so quickly. The thought makes me even more furious than I already am, but I try my best to keep it contained. It won’t help if I accuse her of being up to no good here and now, without any definitive proof. Besides, I need to figure out how I’m going to respond to this.

It doesn’t take me long to realize that I can’t lie to the council—they’re going to find out the truth sooner or later, and if I lie or evade their questions, they won’t trust me later on. In the meantime, I just have to wait for them to calm down enough that I can regain control of this meeting.

It appears Countess Voeli is having similar thoughts, because once the room has quieted somewhat, she says, “Everyone, settle down!” Surprisingly, they actually do get quiet; I silently thank her for her intervention. “That would certainly be concerning,” she continues, “ if it’s true. It could just be a rumor, however. There’s no point in arguing until we have more information. Rolsteg, where did you hear of this?”

To her credit, Rolsteg doesn’t wither under Voeli’s unyielding stare. “I met with the Zeteyoni ambassador yesterday. He seemed surprised that I didn’t already know about it.”

Voeli nods, apparently satisfied, but I know that’s a blatant lie. Mother said Zeikas keeps him out of the loop, so he may not even know about the alliance being broken just yet. Besides, from what she told me, I doubt that an indolent fool like Tolren would deign to meet with Rolsteg even if he did know—it would be too much like work for him. I need to find out the truth and stop her before she manages to completely destroy my position.

All this goes through my head in a couple seconds while the rest of the council digests the new information. Then Rolsteg turns to me. “Perhaps Your Majesty could clear up the matter for the council?”

I take a moment before I answer, trying and failing to calm myself down a bit. This is very bad . “Unfortunately, what you heard is true,” I say through clenched teeth. “I recently received a message from my uncle, King Zeikas, informing me that the alliance between Soeria and Zeteyon is ended. I had hoped to convince him to reinstate it, but it doesn’t look likely.”

My words set off an even bigger bomb than Rolsteg’s did. Almost everyone in the room speaks, their voices mixing so their words are unintelligible, even as the fear and urgency in their tones remain.

I don’t say anything immediately, giving them a chance to get it all out. A headache born of anger and fear begins to pound in the back of my head as I listen to the councilors quibble. I wait for them to calm themselves, hoping to restore some semblance of order to this meeting before my head explodes.

But they show no signs of slowing down, and eventually I give in to my emotions. “Everyone, please!” I shout. “There will be order!”

I’m almost surprised when they heed my words, although it takes a bit for them to become fully silent; only once they do, I continue. “I know this is not ideal, but it is not the end of the world. Soeria is not at war. We will find new allies in due course.”

“We may not be at war now, Your Majesty, but we are certainly vulnerable.” Duke Arondel’s voice is as ponderous as ever, even as the corners of his mouth turn down in dismay. “Without the Zeteyoni supporting us, other nations may seek to take advantage of our vulnerability.”

Breathe, Darien . “I am aware of the consequences. I assure you that I am doing my best to ensure that Soeria continues to be protected from outside threats.”

Arondel opens his mouth to respond, but Duchess Badami breaks in before he can. “Your Majesty, it seems to me that we are overlooking an obvious solution to this problem,” she says. “Aren’t marriage negotiations still ongoing between yourself and Prince Arbois? Perhaps we can form an alliance with Jirena Sadai? They would be a far more formidable ally than Zeteyon, and we would be eliminating a threat on our northern border.”

To my horror, the confusion and dismay on the faces of the rest of the councilors is largely replaced by relief almost as soon as Badami finishes speaking.

“That sounds like an excellent solution,” Voeli says. “It’s lucky Prince Arbois is still in the palace. We should accelerate the negotiations immediately.”

Councilors are nodding, and my heart starts to race as I realize they might actually go along with this. “I’m afraid that a marriage between Arbois and myself is not an option,” I blurt out. “We’ll have to figure out some other way to find a new ally.”

I look at the rest of the council and see incredulous eyes staring back at me.

“Your Majesty, if I may ask,” Badami says carefully, “why do you say that marrying Arbois is not an option? He is here for the express purpose of forming a marriage contract with Your Majesty, is he not?”

“That’s … not exactly true. I mean, yes, that’s why he came in the first place. But recently I asked him if he would be willing to form an alliance that doesn’t involve a marriage between the two of us, and he agreed to consider the idea.”

Some of the councilors share charged looks with each other before turning back to me. “Your Majesty, please forgive me for being blunt,” Voeli says, a touch of steel in her tone. “But as I’m sure Your Majesty is aware, the truth is that Jirena Sadai is far more powerful than Soeria. Should there ever be open conflict between the two nations—which I most ardently hope does not occur in my lifetime—I am certain that we would put up a good fight, but I have no illusions that we would win. At least, not without heavy luck, and even heavier bloodshed.” She pauses and sighs, her eyes briefly darting to the ceiling before returning to mine. “What I’m trying to say, Your Majesty, is that it would be far better to have Jirena Sadai as our ally than our enemy, or even a potential enemy. We have little else to offer that is as valuable as Your Majesty’s hand.”

I take a deep breath before I respond; it’s not her fault everything is falling apart, after all . “I realize that. Perhaps I spoke rashly when I said that marrying him is not an option.” I didn’t, but I want to get them off my back. “I haven’t completely taken marriage off the table. If, for whatever reason, he decides that my terms are unreasonable, then we will resume our discussion of the topic.” They look slightly mollified, but still concerned. Fortunately, I have one more card I can play. Plus, maybe I can get a sense of how they’d react to me and Tag. “We can even kill two birds with one stone. If we can come to some agreement with Jirena Sadai as I’ve suggested, I would still be able to form another alliance by marrying a noble from some other nation. I’m sure I could find someone that would be acceptable to this Council. Someone like Tag Leara, perhaps. I know his family has connections to the royal family of Zeteyon.”

“You mean the son of the Viscountess Leara?” Arondel asks, grimacing. He waves a hand dismissively. “I think I speak for the council when I say that he is far too low-ranking to be an acceptable consort for Your Majesty. Surely, we can all agree that Your Majesty must marry someone of equal station—if not Arbois, then another prince, or perhaps an archduke?” His grimace fades, leaving behind a thoughtful expression. “However, I suppose Your Majesty’s proposal regarding Prince Arbois is a good one, assuming he is willing to go along with it. Of course, we must be careful not to try his patience too much, lest he get frustrated and leave before an agreement can be made, but I see no harm in giving Your Majesty a chance to form an alliance under the suggested terms, at least for the moment.”

Heads around the table nod at Arondel’s words. I should be happy that they’re not pressuring me to marry Arbois immediately, yet what I feel most is disappointment. “Thank you, Arondel,” I say, trying to keep my true emotions out of my voice. It was worth a shot. “Does anyone else have anything more to add?”

Nobody volunteers anything, so I stand, barely noticing when the rest of the Council rises too. I walk out of the room without a glance back, my mind whirling with thoughts of Arbois and Tag and alliances, with one thought predominating above all the others. I have to find a way to get them to accept Tag before it’s too late .