“Of course.” He dipped his head, bringing his lips down and pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of my head. “Goodnight.”
I forced a tight-lipped smile, feeling awkward that I couldn’t be more affectionate, and spun on my heel. I prayed he didn’t catch the glisten of tears in the corners of my eyes as I hurried back to my room where I cried most of the night.
When I got up the next day, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Maybe I’d cried all my tears? I sure didn’t get any sleep, but it was as if a security blanket had wrapped me tightly, taming my fears. The war was going to end. I could start my day with a clear head.
I slipped into a beige dress. One with flowy bell sleeves that cinched into a high waist. Beige felt safe for today. It wasn’t an overly optimistic color, but it was not grieving like black. Just beige. It fit my mood perfectly.
As I descended the stairs on my way to breakfast, the scent of bacon grease met my nose, making my stomach rumble. I never ate a bite for dinner last night, and my appetite was piqued. It had been a long time since my father had a hog butchered. He was obviously celebrating. This was a good thing, me getting married. Positive things could happen now. My hand glided over the smooth railing as I quickened my descent down the grand staircase. I was ready for things to get better.
The memory of Jon kissing my head last night pulled to the front of my mind. It was a simple gesture, but the sweetness wasn’t lost. I understood how awkward this had to be for him. Perhaps, I’d been too hard on him?
As I passed by the front room, I peeked out the window and noticed that, once again, Weston was not at his post. He rarely took a vacation, but when he did, someone else was dutifully assigned to my watch. Nobody had said anything.
Has Father fired him to save money? He cut Margarette’s hours . . .
Shaking my head, I pushed the thought out of my mind, though there remained a niggling in the back of my brain. It would make sense when I left the palace, Weston’s job wouldn’t be needed since he was my personal guard.Will Father let him go?That would be awful for him, because he helped to provide for his single mother and little sister.
Father would never do that.
But a week ago, I would never have thought my father would sell my field, or force me into a marriage. Getting rid of my guard was logical at this point, especially since something wasn’t adding up.
For the last three days, I’d been parading around without any security, and no one had said anything . . . Why would that be unless they were trying not to draw attention to his absence? A cold wave of fear washed over me, and suddenly it all made sense.Father let Weston go.Anger bubbled in my stomach. I was one of the few people who really understood how much he needed his job. Plus, he had been the most loyal friend I’d ever had.
How dare Father do this!
Forgetting all my ladylike manners, I stormed through the hall to Father’s study, making as much noise as possible. I found the door open, and he was inside, alone. I charged to the center of the room, planted my feet, and steeled my gaze on his. “Father, where is Weston?”
He didn’t flinch, or even raise his gaze. He simply scrolled up on his tablet as he read the morning news. “Why do you ask?”
“You know why I ask.” I narrowed my gaze, chewing on my lip as I studied him. His lack of rebuttal confirmed what I had presumed. “You laid him off because I’m leaving the palace. You are trying to save money at his expense, aren’t you?”
“No.” He raised his gaze to me, parting his lips, but I wouldn’t let him speak.
“Don’t cover it up,” I bit out. “I’ve never been allowed anywhere without a guard, and for the past three days, nobody has said boo about me running all over without one. Considering we’ve never had higher security alerts, something is wrong. What is going on?” Sharply parking my hand on my hip, I was ready for answers. I’d never spoken to my father this way, but I had reached my limit.
“He didn’t want you to worry.” Father crossed his hands in front of him, leaning forward, which was out of character for him.
“Worry about where he will get his next meal from, since you laid him off?” I spit back haughtily.
“Honey,” Father’s voice lowered, so much so, I had to watch his lips to make out the words. “Weston volunteered to fight on the frontline.”
A sarcastic laugh stumbled in my throat. He was joking. He had to be. Weston wasn’t a fighter. Father didn’t laugh. He didn’t even crack a dimple. Suddenly, I felt as if I had been thrown into a brick wall. I reached for the nearest chair, stumbling forward. Images of sweet Weston fighting flashed in my mind. Instantly nauseous and heartsick, I fell on my knees before I made it to the chair. I wailed as if I had been stabbed in the chest. “Why!”
Father pushed back his chair, rounded the desk, and got on a knee. Placing one hand on my back, he held it firmly in silence. I couldn’t stomach his muteness.
His silence was a lie!
He didn’t have to tell me the frontline was running on barebones. I didn’t need to hear it; frankly I couldn’t stomach it.
“He had wanted to volunteer for a while, but he couldn’t leave you. Since he knew you’d be taken care of by King Aswell, he felt it was his duty.”
“You’re a liar,” I growled through gritted teeth from my place on the floor. “You promised me this war wouldendif I agreed to this marriage. You didn’t have to let Weston go. King Aswell had backup.” My breath was failing. I struggled to push out the following words, taking long breaths between each one, “You did this to me as punishment.”
Father’s eyes were dark and unflinching. “He asked to go.”
“You’re the king. He is your soldier. You own him.” My voice was down to a whisper, barely making an appearance at all. I had to speak my peace, or I knew I’d regret it. Someone had to stand up to Father. “Last night, I pledged my future to a man I can’t stand so this country can prosper, and you lied to me.”
“He asked to go,” Father echoed with a piercing stare.
