Chapter 17
Game of Thrones
“Just breathe,” I whisper to myself in the full length mirror. No one here is going to give me a pep talk but me… and I can do this… probably.
Tonight’s dinner is just a bit more formal than all the others.
We’re welcoming the most important players from around the world, or at least the ones we’re supposed to be the closest with.
Some are Rhys’s friends, like a sheik from the middle east and the American president—how weird that I voted for him in the last election when I thought I was American too—my uncle, and several others but not the full list of wedding guests.
In two days, we’ll have a reception here that everyone who’s anyone from around the world will attend if they’re able.
Or so Dahlia tells me. The thought makes my belly tumble around like I put it in a dryer.
Because of tonight’s importance, I’ve been told I need to look as perfect as possible because all eyes will be on me.
Why anyone would think that would make me do better, be better, I do not know.
If anything, it makes me so nervous that I’ll likely catch my heel on the carpet and face plant in front of some emperor or something equally intense. Or spill soup on my dress.
For that reason alone, I insisted on a darker color. Maeve was beside herself because I’m only to be a bride once.
Ha! I’ve been the bride at what feels like approximately eighty-seven royal wedding events already, with more to come.
Dahlia just laughed because she’s come to know me so well that she knows how frazzled I feel, even if no one else does.
But Maeve, and even Dahlia, can’t complain about this dress because it’s both elegant and understated, exactly how I hope they see me. I’m not a lot and pretending to be too much will feel fake, like a Halloween costume.
My dress has a high boatneck and is fitted to the waist where it gathers in thick pleats as it falls to the floor in tiers of fuchsia, teal, and white flowers. My dark hair is left to fall in a soft blow out and my eye makeup is in dark browns to highlight my dark eyes, but the rest is left soft.
Massive teardrop shaped aquamarines surrounded by diamonds hang from my ears and a matching bracelet of teardrop aquamarines suspended by four rows of diamonds is wrapped around my wrist.
I will never stop being shocked every time Maeve or Rhys hands me a velvet covered jewelry box. I’ve learned that if it comes from Maeve, it’s a loan from the royal vault, if it comes from Rhys, it’s a gift and is now part of my private collection.
Apparently, there is a vault somewhere of things that belonged to my mother during her tenure as the wife of the heir to the throne.
I want to see it, but also, I don’t. Material things, no matter how grand, will never bring them back to me.
But I do wish for more memories of them, along with the time that was stolen from us.
I slip my feet into the black velvet Aquazzura heels and look at the clock. I’m going to be late if I don’t leave right now. The reception and dinner are in the Finlay dining room. It’s fancier than the dining room used for everyday dinners but not as grand as the one used for state banquets.
I make my way through the suite with a quickness and head down the hall. If I’m late, Saoirse is sure to make my life more of a nightmare than it already is. Or worse, she’ll humiliate me in front of everyone at dinner.
Thankfully, when I make it to the lobby, no one is there yet, and I pull in a deep breath. The door to the sitting room that opens to the Finlay dining room is cracked and I wonder if anyone is inside yet. I start to push the door open when angry voices stop me in my tracks.
“It’s time you did your job,” a man snarls. “I’m tired of waiting for you to quit twiddling your thumbs.”
“I’ve been trying,” Saoirse replies.
“Well try harder!”
“Do you know how insulated she is?” she snaps.
“I don’t care. You were supposed to get rid of her.”
“I’ve been trying,” she insists. “Can’t you see that?”
“What I see is a whiny little girl who has been absolutely useless to me,” the man snaps. “She should have been dead weeks ago.”
Does he mean me? I always knew my accident was no accident at all, but to know that Rhys’s stepmother was behind it is terrifying. Will they try again?
“I was told that the accident would be fatal.”
“It was fatal, you simpleton! The driver died, not the girl. Do you even know how to carry anything out?”
“I married the king, I had his baby, I’ve done what you’ve asked of me,” she says quietly.
“Don’t get me started on that brat of yours,” he says. “You have a job to do and it’s time you did it.”
“Or what?” she asks.
“Or it’ll be time to find out what happens to people who I no longer need… or want.”
“What are you doing skulking about?” Lady Thomley asks quietly from behind me, making me jump.
“Shh,” I hissed. I can’t let the people in the sitting room know that I heard them. At least not yet.
Lady Thomley tips her head to the side and studies me before the others interrupt her inspection.
“I’d hate for something to happen to either you or your mutt,” the man threatens.
“But that’s your granddaughter,” Saoirse pleads.
“I would sell her in a heartbeat for the Serpents,” he says. “You should know that better than anyone.”
“But—”
“This wedding cannot take place.”
“We have to go,” Suzanne Thomley whispers. “Now.”
I just nod as she grabs me by the arm and leads me back out of the lobby and several feet down the hall before turning us around. “What are you doing?” I whisper.
“You were never there, and you heard nothing,” she says. “Do you understand me?”
“Yes.”
“I’m serious, Stella. I wasn’t kidding when I said they were dangerous.”
“I know that now,” I tell her. “They… they were talking about my car accident.”
“You have to leave,” she says. “You have to get out of here.”
“Don’t you think I’ve tried. Rhys won’t let me go,” I tell her. “He says he can protect me, but I don’t think he can.”
“Fuck,” she says. “We need time. We’re going to have to fake it until we make it as you Americans are so fond of saying.”
“What do you mean?”
“We pretend like nothing has changed,” she says. “You continue to be wary of Rhys but go through the wedding events, like tonight’s dinner and such, and I’ll continue to flirt unabashedly with your fiancé. Hopefully, we can figure out a plan from there.”
“But… why are you doing this?” I ask.
“Because I can’t stand by and watch you get yourself killed,” she says. “You’re in over your head and it’s much more than a handsome man with a big cock.”
“It is pretty big…” I mutter and she snaps her fingers.
“Now is not the time to get sidetracked.”
“All right, what do we do?” I ask.
“We head to dinner,” she answers, linking her arm through mine and leading me down the hall and back through the lobby. “It’s time to play the game of thrones… at least for a little bit.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know how.”
“That’s all right, darling,” she says as she places a fake smile on her face. “I do. Now smile.”
I try for a shaky smile that feels more like a grimace and force myself to relax into a face that won’t be so terrifying and seems a little more natural before replying, “Okay. I think I’m ready.”
“Good girl,” she replies but it doesn’t have my toes curling the way it does when Rhys says the same words. She pushes open the door to the now occupied sitting room and greets the room at large. “Well, now the party can begin. I’ve found the bride!”
My eyes scan the room and immediately find Rhys who looks as surprised at my entrance as I’m sure I do.
He raises his eyebrows and says, “And I’d thought you’d run, hen.”
“Your lovely bride would do no such thing,” Suzanne says.
“Aye. I think she’d do just that,” he says as he moves across the room to stand in front of me. He takes my hand in his, pulling me away from Lady Thomley. “But she also knows that I’ll chase her and catch her if she does.”
“Don’t hog the lovely girl,” the earl says to Rhys with a smile on his face. It doesn’t reach his eyes which gleam with a level of menace I’m not prepared for even though I just heard him talking about my death. “You’ll get her forever but she’s about to be my step-granddaughter-in-law.”
“Aye,” Rhys says through gritted teeth. “But as my wife, that trumps all so I think I’ll be keeping her to myself.”
“You’d both do well to remember that I can be an ally or an enemy,” the earl leans in, snarling low so that only we can hear him. “Besides, it’s polite to share.”
“I’m afraid my hospitality ends with you under my roof and not fucking my wife.”
“She’s not your wife yet,” he spits. “Besides, my daughter is queen.”
“Your daughter is the dowager queen—at my discretion—since the king is dead and I am the blood heir and king.”
“That could change in a heartbeat,” the earl says.
I wonder at whether he’s threatening Rhys and why that has anything to do with whose bed I’m in. This isn’t a nation, it’s bizarro Alice in Wonderland, and I want out.
“Shall we head into the dining room now?” Saoirse says to the room.
If anyone has noticed the tensions rising, they have the good manners to pretend that they didn’t.
Rhys loops my arm through his and leads me into the dining room where he ignores the place cards and seats me next to his spot at the head of the table.
“Really, Rhys?” Saoirse says with faux tenderness. She acts like a loving stepmother but my experiences with her say otherwise.
“Let me enjoy my wedding week,” he says, making my heart stutter. “Let me be madly in love with my bride before we have to get back to work.”
“Surely, you’ll take a honeymoon,” Suzanne chimes in.
“When we can fit it in,” he replies. “Running a country takes quite a bit of time. Perhaps after the coronation we’ll fit in a tour and find some time to spend together before silly season when parliament breaks.”
“Hmm…” the earl says with mock sadness in his voice. “How romantic.”