“It’s fine.” He curtly nodded, then tacked on, “What would you like to talk about?”
“Well.” I blew out a long breath, while I pulled up everything, I already knew about it, which wasn’t much. We already discussed his boring books, and museums. He affirmed he doesn’t like the outdoors . . . I pulled my lips to one side, digging deep for a topic, but the only thing that keep reeling back was the question of “why.” Father would have said it was rude, but I wasn’t afraid of Father, so I pressed, “I know I already asked you why you chose me. I’m still a little curious as to why you would even want to agree to a partnership with my father. Aside from gaining a wife. I’m sure you can easily find someone without having to extendyour military. This war is brutal. Why are you even getting involved?”
He wasn’t one to fidget. He sat straight. Kept his gaze fixed and spoke directly. “This war needs to end. It’s been unfair from the start, as everyone knows your father never had the means to even come close to defending himself. It’s an attempt at a totalitarian takeover. They want to control his land, and because your father is weak, they think they can take it. It’s unjust. I’m not one to sit back and let unjust things just happen.”
I had never heard an explanation of the war from any viewpoint other than my father’s boastful side. Of course, my father never admitted he was weak. It was interesting to hear what others truly thought of him. Humbling.
I leaned to the side, shifting my weight as Weston sharply pulled the car over on the side of the road, parking. “We are here!” He announced, while pushing open his door. “Just wait one moment, and I’ll be back with your food.”
“Good.” King Aswell stated, shuffling in his seat as he appeared to be looking for something. From the front seat pocket, he pulled out another book. My eyes grew wide.This can’t happen again. Didn’t I already explain I wasn’t much of a reader?
“While we wait for his return, I wanted to show you one of my favorite poetry collections. Most of these are in French, but I’m actually quite fluent . . .” He kept talking, but my mind ran off, completely lost to this conversation.Help! He’s talking about his boring books again!I fought every urge I had to pound on the window and cry out. Somehow, I managed to maintain perfect princess etiquette and smile as we peered at the book together, each andeveryword-crusted page.
seven
Reeves
I didn’t even need to adjust my line of vision; I had honed a sixth sense of knowing she was there. Like an adamant stray cat, she kept coming back. Only today, I wasn’t so quick to push her away. Instead, I threw on a clean t-shirt and my jean jacket. Then I headed out the backdoor with extra pep in my stride. A smile that had been there most of the morning only inflated on my face as I hurried out. I didn’t want to seem too eager. As I approached her, I slowed, pretending to accidentally stumble across her.
“Hey, you!” I called out to her, not as forcefully as the last time I had done this. Today she wore a white sundress, and her hair was tied back. Her entire look was more casual than last night, but the mere sight of her sent an unfamiliar zing to my gut. She didn’t banter back as I had expected. Instead, she turned her chin away from me, hiding her eyes.
Was this a game?
She wouldn’t have come tomyfield if she didn’t want to see me. Right?
I’ll never understand women, but that won’t stop me from trying. “How are you?” I asked, in the friendliest tone I’d used since I had been discharged. This was the first time I wanted to have a conversation, and she wasn’t making it easy. “Are you still sad about what happened?”
“What happened?” She snapped out, still not looking my way.
I scratched an imaginary itch on my cheek. “Are you still getting married?”
“Yep.” She popped the p on the end of the word and then pursed her lips. The clouds had rolled in, shading what was usually the sunniest spot in the field, and she had her arms wrapped across her chest with obvious goosebumps dotting them.
I removed my jacket, wincing when I got a whiff. It could have benefitted from a good washing, but that didn’t stop me from draping it on her bare shoulders. Her lashes fluttered before she locked her gaze on me. “What was that for?”
Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I downplayed my gesture. “You looked cold.”
“I didn’t have time to grab a coat this morning.” She bristled with shallow breaths. “I was pushed out withthat man. When I returned home, I was too upset to face my Father to go inside and get one.”
“That man?” I hmphed, thinking that sounded good for me. There was no way she was getting married with that attitude.
“What am I supposed to call him?” she asked facetiously, her lip pouting out.
I swallowed back a laugh. Maybe I should have left her alone, but she was strangely adorable when she groused. “I think the proper term is fiancé.” I said it, both to tease her and to pry. I wasn’t in the position to ask about her status, but inside I was dying to know.
“Not yet.” She held up an interjecting finger. “I have six more days.”
“Is that so?” My heart ticked up a notch, sounding an alarm. “Then what?”
“I have to make my decision.” She snorted after her random response, before adding, “Even though the decision was already made, and not by me.”
I raised an inquiring brow. “Or?”
“Or I assume he gives up and goes home. He said he wasn’t going to wait forever. I’m not worth forever.” She sighed as if letting go of a fantasy. “It’s not a fairytale. I only get one week.”
“He can’t be that bad.” I wasn’t trying to talk her into liking him. It was my cunning way to get her to think about all his less attractive qualities. If I could only get her to stall for the week, that wouldn’t be too hard. Then he’d go home.
“He’s dreadfully boring,” she moaned without needing more coaxing. “Aside from the fact that I could go fishing with his nose.”
