She let out a short, high-pitched scream before stomping off then coming back, anger setting her off like a tea kettle. “But Valentina!”
“Again, we don’t know the situation with Ascor, as they haven’t said boo to us,” I said calmly. “But when they do say something, we can answer them honestly that Victor has paid for his actions by being thrown into exile. Valentina is a child,but she’s not innocent. She’s responsible for this mess too. I think we can use that to our advantage. If they really insist upon her marriage to restore her honor, then she can marry Victor. Frankly, they’re two peas in a pod. They shouldn’t have authority over other people anyway. It’ll lead to disastrous results.”
“I’ll handle Ascor,” James swore. “And it won’t end in a war. But if you want me to take the throne, you must leave it to me to manage. You must also leave Victor to me to manage. Either that or go into exile with him.”
Patrick seemed to realize this was the best offer he was going to get. “Then—”
Beatrice slapped her fan into her hand. “I refuse to go off into retirement with you! I won’t take Victor with me, either!”
Funny how they were perfectly willing to sacrifice someone else to protect their son but they wouldn’t do it themselves. They might love him, but they didn’t like him. That was almost worse, in a way, to be loved but not wanted. No wonder Victor was so screwed up.
“Then go somewhere else,” Patrick countered, wholly unbothered by this. “We can get divorced, if you wish.”
That made her pause, a thoughtful look stealing over her face. Almost as if the idea tempted her. “You mean that?”
“I do. All obligations on your end will cease the second you cede power to James. Victor can go back into exile where he should be. James might be right—putting him into exile might be enough to appease Ascor. No harm in trying, anyway. Either way, the fallout will not be our problem.” Patrick held her eyes like he knew he had her.
She licked her lips, the temptation obvious on her face.
Gods and goddesses above and below, had he really tipped the scales in our favor with divorce? I knew these two didn’t like each other, but I didn’t know the hatred ran so deep.
“Fine,” Beatrice finally acquiesced. She snapped her fan open, giving it a little victory wave. “Agreed. But I set the standard for my living arrangements after this.”
James quirked a brow like she amused him on some level. “Kentillie Castle, fully staffed, with a fifty thousand gold budget per month for the rest of your natural life.”
That must have been what she’d demanded in her last life, because it didn’t even take her two seconds to think it over. She thrust a hand at James. “Done.”
He shook upon it, sealing the deal. “As for you, Patrick—Catterborough Hold, also fully staffed, also with the same budget.”
“Ha!” He grimaced, but he also extended a hand. “Done. You do know us well.”
James gave a rueful huff. “Yes. That I do. Call for Gideon Galbraith.”
“Done.”
James seized my elbow and hauled me directly to the terrace, through the doors, then closed them hastily behind us. Privacy, of a sort, and very necessary.
I started apologizing before the doors even fully closed. “James, I’m so, so sorry—”
His hands, those large hands I loved, framed my face, stilling me. “Do not apologize. You struck precisely the right deal with them. Precisely the right compromise to meet all of our goals without sacrificing what’s truly important in the process.”
“I just feel bad that I didn’t run it past you first.”
“You judged every word that came out of your mouth by my expression. I knew what you were doing. I would have stopped you otherwise.”
I breathed easier. “Then this is truly fine?”
“I have faith it will be. In fact, it might well turn the tide. They are partially what made my reign so unbearable the firstround, having to argue with them constantly. It was only after I’d married that I was able to get rid of them. Which did help, but Valentina took their place, so I’d only traded one trouble for another. This? Where all four troublemakers are gone? This makes all the difference in the world. Under these circumstances, I’m willing to be king. Or, I should say, I’d rather be king under these circumstances than be thrust into exile, losing everything. Still, I think this is doable, and clearly Vuheia prompted you for a reason.”
He smacked a kiss on my mouth before leaning back, that unholy light of cunning in his eyes. “But it means I need to move several things up in the timeline. Frankly, I still don’t trust them to keep their word. I want to act and have things locked in before they second-guess themselves or try to maneuver around what they’ve promised. Beloved, this was not how I wanted to ask—in fact, I was going to propose at the ball—but will you marry me?”
I sucked in a startled breath, not sure I’d heard him right. Then I realized he was perfectly serious. Oh. Oh Nimus, I knew he wanted to marry me, but right now?
“Yes,” I said, helpless to say anything else. I loved him too much to say no. “But are you—mmph.”
I sank into the kiss, powerless to think when his lips moved across mine, lost in the wave of need and love. A short eternity later, while I scrambled to remember how to breathe, he finally lifted his head and grinned at me.
“Thank you,” he breathed across my mouth. “For trusting and loving me as you do. I truly wouldn’t make it without you. And I promise you a proper wedding ceremony later.”
