Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I nsomnia was nothing new for me, but it took on a whole new meaning that night.
Over and over, my conversation with Rowan had echoed in my head. No amount of push-ups or whiskey could suppress the image of her pale-green eyes boring into mine, lips pursed in resignation.
I just wanted to know where we stood , and now I do .
I doubt that very much, Lemmikki.
Not that I knew, either. Things were never as simple with us as standing on solid, definable ground.
And now…
I had already made my decision when you came in .
The clock in the hall chimed, the signal that it was time to head to the Council Room. At least we had mercifully been spared a family breakfast this morning, considering the events of yesterday.
The entirety of my kingdom would have died at the idea of wasting food, but I wasn’t sure I could stomach a single bite when I pictured Korhonan’s smug face in the Council Room this morning, let alone for the entire week I would need to stay for negotiations.
If she chose him.
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to ease the ache that had settled into my skull.
What was I supposed to do when Theo was professing his love for me and offering an alliance I needed?
She had spoken in the past tense. Needed . Not need .
What did she need now? And what would she do to get it?
Though perhaps the bigger question was how far I was willing to go. By the time I made it to the Council Room, I still hadn’t decided whether I would rather let her marry Korhonan or start a war with the single, biggest threat to my people.
Rowan strode into the Council Room on time for a rare change, arriving barely a minute after I had, and stranger still, before Korhonan.
She was wearing a gown the same spring-green shade as her eyes. Outside of a small section around her jade-encrusted tiara, her curls were loose today, tumbling down her shoulders with the same flagrant disregard for ceremony as the princess to which they belonged.
I couldn’t help but be reminded of the first time I had truly seen her, all vibrant colors standing stark against the black backdrop of the Summit tent. She had felt like life , and I had wondered how much of that was only the contrast with the death that surrounded us.
But it never changed. Whether she was silent in my rooms or blazing across a battlefield or dancing in a ballroom of her own people, my entire being was inexplicably drawn to the singular point that was my lemmikki.
As she took her seat, I tried to picture the next week while she hung on Korhonan’s arm. The lifetime of Summits and clan events where I would watch her as she bore a series of Elk heirs, wondering if they had inherited her vibrancy or if they were stodgy and uptight like their father.
I saw her walking down an aisle in a navy-blue gown at the ceremony I would be forced to attend, and bile rose in my throat.
My lemmikki or my clan.
Was it ever really a choice at all?
Would it matter when I had given my word in this very room?
Rowan settled across from me, her features carved into a wary sort of resolve. Only the hint of shadows under her eyes betrayed that at least she had grappled with the decision she claimed to have made so easily.
Then again, maybe it had only been her wound that kept her awake, though she wasn’t showing any outward signs of pain this morning.
Avani sat next to her, in the seat usually reserved for Korhonan. Her expression was as impervious as ever, but for the barest tilt to the corner of her lips.
I studied her, wondering why she came today when she had been noticeably absent the rest of the week. And why Korhonan had chosen to sit out his moment of victory.
“Should we wait for Lord Theodore to begin?” The queen’s tone was hesitant.
I wasn’t the only one caught off guard by the change, then.
“No.” Rowan’s voice was clipped, her gaze sweeping over my features with open scrutiny. “That won’t be necessary. I informed him of my decision last night.”
Of course she had. Storms forbid she informed me also and spared us both whatever the hell this morning’s meeting accomplished. I couldn’t fathom what purpose she had for forcing this news on me in the Council Room, in front of an audience, but I shored up my expression before I could give them a hint of a reaction.
“I’ve taken all the factors into consideration and have decided that for the sake of our people, the people of Socair, and the general promotion of peace, the most advantageous alliance is one with…” Rowan paused long enough for my mind to process the improbability of her words, the intentionality of her phrasing.
An alliance with Elk would hardly promote peace when she knew how I felt about it, let alone serve the people of Socair once Iiro got the throne. However she felt about me or Korhonan, she was no fan of the Duke of Elk.
An ember of hope sparked to life in my chest, even as I told myself it wasn’t possible. Hadn’t she all but said she had chosen Korhonan?
I just wanted to know where we stood.
Why would that have mattered if she was going to choose him all along?
An eternity passed in the heartbeat before she took a breath and met my eyes squarely, her chin rising in a familiar challenge.
“Bear.” The single syllable fell like an anvil in the silent room. I was sure there were glances being exchanged, reactions being processed, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Rowan’s features.
Korhonan’s absence took on a whole new meaning now.
I informed him of my decision last night.
She had sent him home before she ever even saw me. There had been condescension in her features when she told me she had already made her decision, like it should have been obvious.
For the reasons she had just listed? Or for the same reason I would have staked my clan on keeping her out of Korhonan’s hands? And his bed.
My heart beat furiously in my chest, like it was still half convinced that she would take the words back in the next breath. Instead, she doubled down.
“So,” she went on, “I accept Lord Evander’s proposal, assuming he is still amenable to that.”
A weight lifted from my chest. Whatever else we were or would be to each other, she wasn’t marrying Korhonan—or anyone else. She would belong to me now under the laws of both her kingdom and mine.
And though her words were outwardly formal, there was a taunt as well. Another challenge I couldn’t help but rise to.
These games were easy. I could play them in my sleep, as long as I knew she was still mine.
Amenable is not the word I would use, Lemmikki.
A smirk tugged at my features, fighting past the questions still racing through my mind.
“If you’re willing to make sacrifices for the sake of your people, then I could hardly refuse to do the same,” I told her in a casual tone, though my pulse still raced just a little too quickly.
“Have you decided whether you will return to Lochlann, then?” Laird MacBay asked her.
She raised her eyebrows at me, daring me to answer. Something in the expression made me wonder if she had ever really planned to stay here, but if she expected me to beg her to return to danger, she could think again. Especially after her very vocal feelings on my protection the night before.
I returned her expression with a challenge of my own.
If she wanted to live in Socair, she could damned well admit that in front of her council.
She clenched her jaw, giving me a false saccharine smile. “As much as I would love to make that decision, I’m afraid I couldn’t possibly know my own mind well enough to know what to do. Thank the stars I have a big, strong, Socairan man in the room to tell me what’s best, though. Lord Evander?”
Oliver barely suppressed a laugh, while the king sighed quietly. I refrained from pointing out that she was here, alive and well, because of the decisions she resented so much.
“Ordinarily, I would be happy to oblige your...needs.” I let that dangle in the air, taking more than a little pleasure at the flush that rose in her cheeks. “But I couldn’t possibly think of making this decision for you, even if I did know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was making the right one.”
Her eyes glinted, the blush in her cheeks deepening as she sucked in a breath to respond.
Queen Charlotte’s voice rang out first, though, sounding more like an exasperated parent than a queen.
“It doesn’t have to be decided today,” she placated. “Let’s just get through announcing it at the festival tomorrow first.”
Oliver cleared his throat. “You will need to put on a convincing show for the people, though. They are most certainly going to balk at this arrangement, and we need their support for this alliance.”
“That won’t be a problem,” I assured him, my eyes never leaving Rowan’s. “We’re both good at pretending.”
Wasn’t that what she had told me at the cabin? It hadn’t felt true then, and I wasn’t sure it did now, either.
“Are we?” she fired back, just as I had then.
Was she wondering the same thing I had been?
Are we pretending? Are we good at it?
If we were putting on a pretense, I wasn’t sure I knew what the truth was. Maybe she didn’t either. Maybe that had always been our problem.