Edwin
A full hour went past with no sign of James, so I went looking for him. The worry clenched tight in my chest, tugging painfully, and I wanted to know what had happened. I also feared what his absence meant. Perhaps Queen Beatrice had gained some leverage against him we didn’t know about? Either way, I needed answers.
While I searched, my thoughts raced. What would I do? What would I do if I was sent away and he was forced into another political marriage?
James swore he would never let himself be manipulated into one, and I believed he meant it. But he’d not wanted a political marriage the first time and it’d still happened. The truth of the matter was, James was too good of a man. If push came to shove, if his own desires were pitted against a greater good, he’d sacrifice himself.
I wasn’t merely guessing, either. Everything he’d told me about our first life, all the notes he’d shown me in his notebook, painted a clear picture. James had known the many projectshe’d started—the veterans’ hospital, the housing laws, and more—depended on him being here to maintain them. They were too raw, too new, in their infantile states. If the main organizer bowed out at this stage, the projects would come to an abrupt end, and a lot of people would be left suffering as a result. No one could refute that sad truth.
It was one of the reasons James had acquiesced in the first life. Why he’d taken the throne despite not wanting it.
I had a gut feeling he’d be forced to make the same decision again. I selfishly wanted him on the throne because I knew he’d be stunningly good at ruling. He was already half running the country, despite the short time he’d been here. James got things done, which was why more and more people ignored the king and came to James—because they wanted results, not promises.
I also selfishly didn’t want him married to anyone but me. We hadn’t talked about marriage yet, but I knew it was coming. James was not at all shy about his feelings for me. Just the idea of some woman sinking her claws into him made my skin crawl.
So I had to ask myself, what would I do if James was once again offered the throne and a political marriage?
The only thing I could do.
After searching half the palace, I finally found him in the training yard. James was clearly not in a good mood. He’d stripped off his suit coat and shirt, both of them carelessly tossed over a nearby bench, and was currently destroying one of the training posts with a sword. There wasn’t much left. Pieces of the post had been carved out in a ruthless, hacking fashion and were now so much kindling on the ground.
My heart leapt into my throat because this meant things had gone very poorly. Or he was still pissed off. I dearly hoped for the latter.
Like usual when I showed up, James immediately seemed to realize. I never could sneak up on him. I’d swear he hada magical alert bell on his person if I didn’t know better, he was so accurate. Really, those war-trained instincts kept track of everything around him. He stopped destroying the poor post and turned to look at me, breathing a touch hard.
“Edwin. Sorry, I had to calm my temper down first.”
This might be good…? “Did you overturn my transfer, then?”
“Yes. I did, don’t worry. She’s also quite clear on what will happen if she tries to send you away from me again.”
Relief made my knees go weak. Not just the idea of having to pack, sell my house, and move to the opposite side of the country—which was all a factor, as I detested moving—but being so far from him. That stressed me the most.
If today had done nothing else, it had shown me that my feelings for this man clearly ran much deeper than I’d thought. My panic and concern were like eels inside my gut, churning and twisting, even after he’d reassured me the situation was taken care of. All I could think was, what of next time? Queen Beatrice clearly had an agenda, and she wouldn’t stop until she got James to do what she wanted. So what if she managed to win the next round?
I didn’t want to lose this man.
No, I couldn’t bear to lose him. I refused, utterly.
James caught my hand and squeezed lightly, a comforting gesture. He tried to smile, but it never reached his eyes. “I promise you, this has been taken care of.”
The distress must have been clearly seen on my face, but I’d long since lost the ability to hide my emotions from James. “I think we both know this was nothing more than an opening salvo.”
James winced and didn’t disagree.
“What did she hope to do, precisely? Simply get rid of me before you grew too attached?"
“No, she also wanted me to marry Helena.”
I—she—what?! “Your sibling.”
“Cousin by blood, no less, although that doesn’t matter to royalty as much, I guess.” James blew out a blustering sigh and slid the sword back into its sheath. “I think her plan was to nullify the adoption so it was more aboveboard when she married us off together. I utterly refused. Told her if she tried it again, I’d walk.”
“James, I do not want you walking.”
“I know I have a lot of people depending on me here. I realize that.”
“That’s part of it. Plus, I shudder to think of what would happen when you leave, because you have a lot, personally, you must do here still.”
