“Why moot?” Nando asked.
Maxim hissed out an irritated sigh and pinned his brother with a glare. “I should have left you in the brothel.”
Nando gave him a beatific grin. “Yes, you should have. My goddesses miss me, I have no doubt.”
“Your goddesses are servicing other patrons,” he pointed out.
Nando sighed dramatically. “I could bring them back to Varros with me.”
“Try it, and I’ll throw you overboard,” Maxim warned.
His brother grumbled something unintelligible.
Maxim made a shoving gesture. “Splash.”
“You love me too much to kill me,” Nando said confidently.
Maxim raised a brow, impassive. “Believe what you wish.”
His brother snorted. “I suppose I don’t need to bring all five. I might settle for three.”
“You might settle at the bottom of the sea.”
Nando sighed. “Someone is feeling murderous today.”
Yes, he damned well was. Maxim inserted a finger between his cravat and his throat, attempting to make the blasted knot loosen. To no avail. He was going to choke before he reached his prospective bride’s side.
“I’m feeling like a man about to announce his impending doom,” he muttered.
Because, as his irritating brother had announced, he didn’t want to marry Princess Anastasia. But wants and needs were two different beasts entirely. And kings could not choose wants when needs were far more important to the future of the kingdom.
“You’re the King of Varros. Can you not choose the woman who will be your queen?”
Only reckless, aimless, lighthearted Nando would view his circumstances in such a way.
Maxim gave his cravat another vicious tug. “Ihavechosen her. That is why we are announcing the betrothal today.”
But he couldn’t lie to himself. Nando’s question returned to him.If you could marry Lady Tansy instead of Princess Anastasia, would you do it?
Yes. If he had the power to choose a bride, he would choose Tansy.
His prim spitfire who secretly read wicked books and defied him at every turn. Ye gods, how he had missed her these last few days. It had required all the resolve he possessed to keep his distance and relegate himself to tersely worded missives and reports from the guards he had sent to the town house. He had hoped the time and distance would make the unsettling feelings inside him relent.
They hadn’t.
“And after the betrothal is announced, how soon are we to return to Varros?” Nando asked, frowning. “I find I’ve rather begun to like it here in England.”
“As soon as possible. Felix is making the arrangements. I need to have Princess Anastasia and Lady Tansy far from Gustavson’s guards before we send our men to Boritanian shores to unite with the rebel forces.”
“That’s wise of you,” Nando said solemnly, his customary humor absent.
Maxim had entrusted his brother with the full details of his plan of battle. It hadn’t occurred to him, until their clash at the brothel, that Nando secretly longed for a more meaningful role in the monarchy. He had always assumed his younger brother was content to indulge in women and drink, freed of the shackles of responsibility.
“Thank you,” he said simply. “The safety of the women is of utmost importance. There’s also the matter of Princess Anastasia’s two sisters, who remain in the August Palace in Boritania.”
He had yet to settle upon a means of freeing them from their uncle’s tyrannical rule. It was a matter he intended to discuss with Prince Theodoric forthwith.
“Do you think Gustavson will harm them?” Nando asked shrewdly.
