As he changed his clothes in preparation for dinner, Theo’s mind was on the king’s strange manner regarding the wedding date. He knew he hadn’t imagined it. A lifetime of learning to suppress his own reactions had made him good at reading those of others.
When he emerged from his room a short time later, a servant was waiting to show him to the dining hall. They made their way down a wide and pleasant corridor, lined with portraits of austere-looking individuals in the fashions of bygone times.
Theo felt a tiny surge of disappointment, swiftly pushed down, when the servant ushered him into a large and elaborately presented dining hall. Not that there was anything wrong with the space—the enormous wooden table, polished until it gleamed like marble—was imposing, and the spread laid out upon it even more so. Elegant crystal chandeliers bathed the room in soft light, and two large fireplaces kept the chill of the early evening at bay.
No, his disappointment was at the number of people in the room. Some thirty people stood as he entered—it was a court event, then, not the private meal with the royal family that he’d hoped for. He should have guessed as much. He knew from his training with a cultural advisor before he left Siqual how elaborate Torrenese royal betrothal ceremonies were. He’d caught a glimpse of the preparations just outside the city as he’d approached. Most of the court would gather for it, and much of the city’s population would crowd in to watch what they could.
It wasn’t the form he would choose for his betrothal, but he’d been thoroughly prepared, and understood his role in it all. He was to carry Princess Elowen off to Siqual once they were married, after all. It wasn’t so much to ask that before she embraced the ways of his own kingdom for the rest of her life, he submit to the traditions of hers in the betrothal process.
The king and queen were absent from the dining hall, but their places were easily located, the king’s at the head of the long table, and the queen’s to his left. Prince Patrick occupied the seat to his absent father’s right hand. Theo’s eyes scanned the rest of the group, pausing on the golden-haired figure seated beside the queen’s empty chair. He was heartened by the vacant seat on Elowen’s other side. At least he would be able to talk to her.
There was another empty seat on Prince Patrick’s other side, but as Theo had hoped, the servant directed him to sit beside the princess. He strode down the room, perfectly composed as he felt the gaze of many pairs of eyes.
“It seems rumor didn’t lie on this occasion, Princess. Stiffwasthe word, wasn’t it?”
By no flicker of his expression did Theo betray that he’d heard the carrying whisper from the young man seated on the other side of the empty chair beside Prince Patrick. But Princess Elowen wasn’t similarly successful in hiding her reaction. Color flooded her cheeks, and Theo’s heart sank.
He reached his chair, and with a rustle of fabrics, the other guests resumed their seats as well. There was no time for greetings, however, because a moment later, they were all rising again as King Ronan and Queen Lisbeth were announced. Another middle-aged man in an immaculately tailored jacket walked alongside the king. Watching the trio, Theo saw at a glance that this was someone important, who enjoyed the confidence of the monarchs.
The man was introduced as the Duke of Nirocha, supporting Theo’s assessment. By the time the necessary formalities were complete, and the servants began ladling soup into everyone’s bowls, Princess Elowen’s flush from the earlier whisper had long subsided. But she still seemed hesitant to meet Theo’s eye.
Theo felt his frustration rise. This wasn’t the beginning he wanted with his future wife. He wanted her to like him. He wanted to make a good impression.
It doesn’t matter what I want. The rebuke came swiftly to his mind. It wasn’t his desires that mattered, but his duty, and duty required him to show a strong and confident front. It was Siqual’s honor on the line, so he would ignore both the insult from the young nobleman, and the implication that Theo’s betrothed had discussed him—evidently negatively—with another man.
What had he expected, after all? He knew his reputation for being stiff and uninteresting. It would be childish to let it trouble him. The opinions of idle gossipers didn’t matter. He knew the truth—that unemotional steadiness was better for a kingdom than volatile charm.
Marriage alliances with powerful neighbors were also good for kingdoms, so there he was. His eyes strayed to Princess Elowen, his thoughts wandering for a moment as he took in the graceful line of her neck where she bent her head toward her mother, listening to a quiet comment from the queen.
Unemotional steadiness, Theo reminded himself, looking away before she caught him staring. His eyes fell instead on the young man seated across from the princess, the one who’d made the snide comment. The duke had been placed between him and the prince, and Theo realized that the duke’s narrow face bore a strong resemblance to the younger man.
Theo was surprised to find the stranger watching him unashamedly, the hint of a challenge in his eyes. Theo held his gaze, in no hurry to break the silent exchange.
“Prince Theodore, allow me to introduce you to both the Duke of Nirocha and his son, Lord Bertrand, Viscount of Linner,” Prince Patrick interjected helpfully.
The duke said all the appropriate things before the king claimed his attention from Prince Patrick’s other side.
“I’ve been eager to meet you, Your Highness.” There was a satisfied glint in the young viscount’s eye that sent a frisson of irritation over Theo. “My family is honored to add our welcome to that of Their Majesties.”
It was an irreproachable speech as far as the words went. But Theo was no fool, and he could read more than was said in plain words. If the mocking aside hadn’t already done so, the tone of the viscount’s welcome would certainly have marked him an enemy.
“Thank you for your welcome, Lord Bertrand,” he said mildly. “I look forward to better making your acquaintance.”
He meant it. He may not be staying long in Toledda, but he didn’t intend to waste that time. He wanted to learn as much as he could about his future father-in-law’s court—the unfriendly as well as the benign.
“Prince Theodore.”
A much more pleasant voice brought Theo’s attention to the princess beside him. Princess Elowen had an air of determination, and he got the sense she was eager to prevent further discussion between Theo and Lord Bertrand. That suspicion did nothing to decrease Theo’s dislike of the man.
“I’d also like to introduce you to Lady Sophia.” Elowen indicated the young woman seated beside Lord Bertrand, with a riot of dark curls tastefully arranged on her head. “She’s Lord Bertrand’s sister, and my dearest friend.”
“It’s my pleasure to meet you, Lady Sophia,” Theo said, trying to insert more warmth into his words this time.
He doubted either Lady Sophia or Princess Elowen could hear it. Friendliness to strangers didn’t come naturally to him at the best of times—stiffas he was—and he wasn’t thrilled to know that the viscount’s family was so closely intertwined with the princess. But good manners prompted him to engage the other young woman in polite conversation for a few minutes. It wasn’t her fault that her brother showed signs of being combative, after all. Her demeanor certainly held no veiled hostility. She gave a general impression of sweet timidity, her dark eyes kind but her expression uncertain as she responded to Theo’s conversation, her gaze flicking repeatedly to her brother.
She was wasting her effort. To all appearances, Lord Bertrand was paying no attention to his sister’s conversation with the prince. He was leaning forward on one casual elbow, his eyes fixed on Princess Elowen as he took advantage of Theo’s distraction to draw her into conversation.
When Theo looked over to find the nobleman’s eyes resting on him, a slight smirk on his face, he felt nothing but disdain. Did this fool think Theo was going to compete with him? He was betrothed to Princess Elowen, he had no need to prove anything to anyone.
