“Evelyn is not well suited to be a queen,” King Tristan interrupted. “She’s not prepared for it. We planned for Hannah in the first place because she is the better option.”
Evelyn’s heart stopped.
Did my own father really tell the lords of Gryon that I shouldn’t be a queen? Did my father tell Leo not to marry me?
The room fell quiet again.
Leo! For fuck’s sake, say something! Tell my father he’s wrong! Tell them you care about me! Tell them you don’t want to marry Hannah!
Lord Grégory broke the silence. “Okay. Princess Hannah, then.”
“That simplifies things,” Lord Stuart said. “We can’t keep wasting time.”
“Alexander, are you ready to propose?” Lord Robert asked.
Several heartbeats passed with no response.
No. No. He isn’t ready. Just say no, Leo. Tell them no. Tell them the truth. Tell them to fuck off. Tell them?—
“Yes,” Leo said.
Evelyn’s knees buckled, but a pair of arms wrapped around her before she could collapse to the floor.
Leo agreed to marry Hannah.
Evelyn allowed herself to be carried down the hallway and brought into an empty office. The door clicked shut and Damien appeared in front of her.
“He’s going to marry Hannah!” Evelyn cried.
Damien waved a hand at the door, putting up a sound shield. “Yes.”
“He can’t! He doesn’t love her!”
“It isn’t about love, Princess.”
“You knew this was going to happen!”
“I didn’t know your father was going to toss you in the fire like that.”
She doubled over like the memory was a stomach cramp. “Leo didn’t even say anything.”
“Yeah, he’s going to fucking hear about that later.”
Evelyn straightened. “What do I do now?”
Damien stepped closer to her. “Do you trust me?”
“Why?”
“Because I know you would rather throw fireballs at everyone in that room than take the advice I’m going to give you.”
That option does have some appeal.
“Yes,” Evelyn said. “I trust you.”
“Thenkeep quiet.”
“What do you mean?”
