Chapter 28
The clink of silverware was the loudest sound at the table.
A lavish spread had been laid across the polished surface– steaming platters of roasted meats, glazed root vegetables soaked in honey, and overflowing bowls filled with in season fruits.
The chandelier overhead cast a warm glow over the room, but no one could mistake it for comfort.
At the head of the table, Azrien hungrily tore into a plump, bloodied steak.
Tension permeated the room, yet he remained untouched by it, wearing a grin carved too sharply to be genuine.
He leaned back with one hand lazily curled around the stem of a crystal goblet, eyes glittering with amusement as if privy to a joke only he understood.
His rare mood; jovial, almost indulgent, hung over the room like a trap waiting to spring.
Rain restlessly fixated on that energy, determined to decipher the reason behind it.
“Isn’t this nice?” Azrien said, voice smooth and edged with satisfaction. “A family meal. Together. Free from discord.”
Olivis nearly dropped her knife. She smiled a little too quickly, too tightly, then tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear as if it could hide the tension coiled in her shoulders.
Rain didn’t need to scan her to feel her anxiety; the constant side-glances she cast between him and her husband were more than telling.
A pit of dread had settled in Rain’s stomach, the unknown gnawing at him as the energy of each person only deepened his unease.
“It is lovely, dear,” Olivis murmured. Beside her, Navy banged her spoon against her bowl in delighted rebellion, blissfully unaware she sat in the eye of a storm.
“Bubbles, bubbles, bubblessss!” she giggled, bouncing as she used her power to conjure shimmering bubbles in her fruit drink. Olivis would usually scold her for using magic at the table, but not today. Today she was far too distracted to notice.
“Oh, to be three,” Azrien chuckled—an uncharacteristic sound. “I trust everyone is enjoying themselves?” he asked, lifting his goblet.
No one answered immediately.
Rain sat back, eyeing his father with caution. Snow sat stiffly beside him, her fork hovering mid-air. She had barely eaten, her attention fixed entirely on Azrien, searching his face for clues. For threat.
Rain finally met his father’s gaze, unblinking. “Why are you in such a good mood?”
Azrien’s smile widened, shark-like. “It is simply such a pleasure to sit and eat together in peace. Must there be more to it than that?”
Rain tilted his head, scanning his father’s energy again. Now that Azrien was talking, his guard had slipped. There it was; that familiar undercurrent of cruelty and calculation.
“Yes,” Rain answered boldly. “With you, there always is.”
A pause. The air thickened.
Azrien’s eyes narrowed as he took a slow gulp of wine. Snow’s hand came to rest on Rain’s sleeved forearm, a delicate plea for restraint. Azrien only laughed. He set his goblet down with a soft clink and turned his gaze toward his wife.
“Olive, would you do the honours?”
Olivis’s eyes widened, her expression flashing like a deer caught in headlights.
I’m not going to be happy about it. I don’t want to be here.
Don’t make me say it. Rain’s mind swirled with her frantic energy as he focused on her.
He pitied her for a moment before shifting his empathic attention back to his father.
A flicker of hesitation crossed her features.
She cleared her throat, smoothing invisible creases from the napkin on her lap. She didn’t look at Rain when she spoke.
“Rain, darling,” she began carefully, “considering the recent changes to your betrothal…”
Rain’s green eyes locked onto hers, his jaw tightening. Snow froze mid-breath.
“As the crowned prince of the Blue Kingdom, it is your duty…” Olivis faltered, her eyes pleading for him to understand, then pushed forward. “You are to be wed to Princess Candy of the Pink Kingdom.”
The words dropped into the room like a cold stone.
“What?!” Rain and Snow gasped in unison, whipping their heads toward their parents. Rain sat back, stunned. His fingers curled around the table’s edge, knuckles whitening.
“This union is your saving grace,” Azrien said with such joy that Navy cheered along with him. “You are to meet with the princess—”
“No.” Rain’s voice came low and immediate.
“You are to meet with the princess, here and then you are to travel to Rosamaris. You will aid Prince Floss, Candy’s twin brother, in mastering his empathic gift and prepare him to one day take his throne. In return, the Pink Kingdom has granted command of their armed forces—all of them—to you.”
A hollow silence followed.
Rain’s mind reeled. Another engagement. To a stranger. A flouncy princess named Candy, no less.
“Well, that’s not happening,” Rain said through gritted teeth. He seized his goblet and took a long, steadying drink.
Azrien leaned forward, his smile returning like a blade drawn from its sheath.
“Imagine it, son. A full Eastern army at your command. Troops who adore their princess, your wife, loyal to a cause we will write together. All you need to do is your duty. A strong allegiance that only marriage can forge.”
He sat back, shifting his expression into something resembling remorse; a calculated performance.
“I will be the first to apologise for pushing that Green girl upon you. I feel foolish for insisting you honour your betrothal to that promiscuous girl. I understand now why you were so resistant.” Azrien lifted his goblet again, peering over the rim as he sipped, his energy strangely warm toward Rain, as if he had rewritten his opinion of him overnight.
Rain’s mind raced. Another army at his command would benefit him but not Azrien.
“Queen Virginia is very impressed with you,” Azrien added. “Whatever did you say to win her over?”
Rain’s brow creased. “I don’t believe I said anything deserving of praise.”
“Well, whatever you said made quite the impression. They were practically begging for your hand,” Azrien said gleefully.
Olivis inhaled sharply, her eyes darting between father and son.
Nervously, she cut in. “They were very specific with their intentions; that they wish for this marriage to solidify your position within their court. You will hold commanding authority.” She fiddled with her fork, avoiding her husband’s eye.
“Everything Virginia said about her daughter… it sounds as though you and Candy are kindred spirits. I truly believe this is a worthy proposal.”
Snow snorted before she could stop herself, clapping a hand over her mouth.
“Pardon me,” she said, then glared at her parents. “You’re selling him off as a bargaining chip to the first offer you receive. It makes us appear desperate.”
Azrien’s gaze snapped to her, though the smile never left his face. “If that were the case, my dear, I’d have accepted their offer for you.”
Navy let out a little hum as a giant bubble popped, spraying droplets across her setting. Snow’s glare sharpened.
“And when I refuse to honour your negotiations?” Rain asked, pushing back from the table and rising with slow, controlled fury; already preparing to leave.
Azrien’s smile vanished; snuffed out like a candle.
“They have an army of six hundred thousand sitting comfortably within the Penadaja Mountains, and they are handing it over to you on a silver platter. All they ask is that you teach their son and marry their daughter. It is an outstanding offer even you can’t refuse.
” He laughed, but the sound was hollow, brittle.
“We would be unmatched in numbers, dominating both Eastern and Western territories. Finally, my heir will truly be the most powerful.”
Oh, if only he knew how right he was; though to his own detriment. This agreement would not benefit him in the slightest.
Rain didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t comprehend how delusional Azrien had become. Their ideologies had never aligned, and the king knew that. Azrien had to have something more to gain from this transaction.
“The Queen of Pink will return with the princess in two weeks’ time,” Olivis said, folding her hands tightly in her lap.
Her face remained composed, but her eyes flickered with sadness, resignation and something unspoken.
Rain saw it. He felt it. And he resented her for it.
He resented himself for wanting more from her when she simply wasn’t capable.
“You said you’ve already accepted the proposal. Is this an informal agreement, or has a treaty been signed?” Snow asked, cutting straight to the point. Cleverly working to save her brother from another arrangement.
“How is that of any importance to you?” Azrien snapped, his tone souring. Snow flinched; she was rarely the target of his sharp tongue. Rain placed a protective hand on her shoulder.
“I’m interested in the answer,” Rain interjected, redirecting the king’s attention to himself. “I’m wondering if you considered me in any of this, or if I’m still just a pawn for you to move across your board.”
“I figured you would prefer this option over the alternative,” Azrien said, dropping the last remnants of his pleasant facade. Olivis’s face hardened again, her clasp tightening beneath the table.
“And what is the alternative?” Rain asked drily.
Azrien’s wicked smile returned. “A counteroffer was made. Should you refuse, Snow is to marry the Pink Prince, where she will become Queen Consort of the Pink Kingdom. Not the most practical pairing, as they say the timid prince favours the company of males. Securing an heir will be challenging, but that is none of my concern. It doesn’t affect our royal line, does it?
The downside is that we lose the advantage of you having commanding authority.
They will only provide aid upon request. It is a shame.
Snow would have been the easier option.”
“Easier?” Snow stared at him, confusion and hurt twisting her features. Rain inched closer, protective instinct flaring.