The queen shook her head. “Vix, you will need that, trust me.”
“I don’t want it!”
“You’re too young to understand the importance, love.”
“I’m old enough to know this is wrong!” Vixie was crying in earnest now.
Lord James shook his head. “This generation of royal children doesn’t understand the obligation we have to the people. These kids have lived indulgent lives with no responsibilities, playing and doing circus tricks all day.”
Queen Leighlane glared. “Exercise and agility is nothing to frown upon.”
Lady Faith waved a dismissive hand at her husband. “They learn of hardship through their studies. No need for them to actuallyexperienceit.” At this, Lord James rolled hiseyes, and the arguing commenced.
Vixie’s wails became background noise to the entire family fighting, emotions rising along with their voices. Aerity’s queasy stomach continued to spin, making her dizzy. While the adults quarreled, Wyneth’s worried eyes met Aerity’s.
Am I selfish to want to refuse?Aerity silently asked. Wyneth tightened her grip on her cousin’s hand under the table, and Aerity knew that even though Wyneth would do anything to avenge Breckon’s death, she would not hold it against Aerity if she defied her father in this.
Lord James stood, his chair flying back, knocking over a water glass as he pointed at Lord Preston. Others rose to their feet as well. Their voices echoed in Aerity’s ears, the words mashing together without meaning, making her head pound.
Thirty men had been slaughtered this week. Thirty women were grieving for the men they loved, and one of those women was her cousin. Thirty mothers had to live with images of their sons’ strong bodies being ripped apart. Now her family was at odds.
Could this proclamation end their suffering?
She forced herself to sit straighter, grasping at fleeting strands of confidence.
“Father.” The single word was lost amid a myriad of loud voices. Frustration and desperation painted her loved ones’ faces. She yelled over them, “Father!”
The room silenced. All heads turned to her.
“I will do as I must.” Her words were strong, forceful, even though she felt nothing of the sort. She looked at her father’s red face. “I do not fault you for making this difficult decision. Send out your proclamation. Let the hunt begin as soon as possible.”
His eyes lit in pride and gratitude. When his chin trembled, the chin of a man who never backed down and never showed weakness, Princess Aerity had to release herself from Wyneth’s grip.
The truth of everything began to soak into her, like rain, each drop speaking to her. . . .
A stranger.
A hunter.
Your husband.
Overwhelmed, she turned and gathered her skirts, forcing her chin to remain up as she walked steadily from High Hall.
Chapter
6
Aerity did not want to speak to a soul. She sat on the edge of her bed, numb. For the first time in her life she felt an understanding of what it truly meant to be royal—a kinship with generations before her. When a soft knock sounded at her bedchamber door, she called, “Leave me be.”
The door opened a crack and Aerity saw a tangle of red curls around a tearstained face. Vixie. All at once, her sister’s offer to use her dowry and her cries on Aerity’s behalf was like a river of sentiment through her.
“Oh, Vixie, come here, love.”
Her sister came straight to her bed and climbed up into her arms, clinging to her. Aerity swallowed hard, trying to hold it together.
“I’m so mad at him, Aer.” Vixie pulled back, her pretty lips pursed. “I refuse to call him papa anymore.”
This wounded Aerity more than anything so far. She didn’t want this kind of divide in the family. Aerity rubbed Vixie’s arm. She understood her sister’s refusal to call him papa. Tonight, she’d felt like a king’s subject, not a king’s daughter, but she had to get past that feeling.
