“Father—” Aden started to speak, but the king cut him off.
“You can tell your king that his aid is not wanted here.”
Meena noticed the front line of soldiers on the back wall around the dais step forward in formation. They placed a hand on their sword hilts. Behind them, every other soldier in the second row lifted a crossbow. The soldiers who had moved were strategically placed behind the dais, and it appeared her father either hadn’t noticed or chose not to notice.
The four guards stationed around the dais had definitely noticed, and they grasped their own sword handles, ready to take defense.
“Father.” Meena jumped up, ignoring the part of her mind that told her to keep her mouth closed. The only thing she could do was stall for time before her father declared war on Chendas, sacrificing his life in the process.
“Philomena.” He never used her full name.
“Father.” She did not falter as she walked toward him across the line of her seated brothers. “I think you should try the sweetmeats before you completely reject King Gareth’s kind apology.”
Meena recognized the shock on her father’s face as it mirrored the shock she felt in her own mind. She silently begged him to join her on this surprise adventure. If she had enough time, she could think of something.
“They really are exquisite.” Her mouth continued to blabber about the ridiculous candies as her mind furiously looked for a way to get Sol out of the country as soon as possible with suspicion. Preferably in a way that did not involve the death of anyone in her family. “Like something from a feast, or a wedding even.”
Smiling at Younn, she swooped down to pick up another sweet from the tray.
“Imagine these at a wedding. Our cook could never hope to compete with something this elegant.”
She heard the restless sound of the soldiers shuffling their feet. She was running out of time.
“Philomena, you should not have come here,” King Frederich stepped forward, reaching out toward her. “She is beside herself. Erich, take her to her room.”
“Wait,” Meena held up her hand, forcing her body to calm itself so she would be taken seriously. “Do you think King Gareth would be kind enough to send us more of these sweetmeats in time for my wedding next week? Surely as a token of his continued goodwill, the king would personally see to our wedding trip down south.”
The room fell completely silent.
Meena’s mouth went dry. She was saying her thoughts faster than she could think them and she wanted to burst into laughter at the controlled shock on her parent’s faces. She couldn’t believe she’d shared her silliest dream out loud. Of course she had imagined having an exciting romance with the heroic stranger who wanted to save their kingdoms, but now she had proposed it in front of a room full of threatening soldiers and her entire family.
King Frederich dropped to his chair as though his legs could no longer support him. His expression remained as passive as ever, of course, but Meena could see a thousand thoughts running through his eyes. And every muscle on his face appeared to be straining in an effort to not raise his eyebrow at her.
“The Princess is getting married?” The councilor also leaned forward, his smile still disgustingly wide. “This is the first we have heard of it.”
Meena felt her face flushing under her father’s intense stare, but she played it off as embarrassment in front of the councilor. “Well, that’s because it only just happened last night.” She smiled and fluttered her eyelashes. Her thumb started tapping out a furious beat against her thigh and she clutched her hands together to stop the frantic motion. But the nervous energy merely transferred to her foot, which began drawing circles on the stone floor at her feet.
“And who is the honorable choice of King Frederich’s only daughter?” the councilor asked.
At that, King Frederich’s eyebrows really did go up. “Pray, enlighten the room, Meena, and share your good news.”
Meena opened her mouth. Now that she needed it most, her ever-present voice seemed to have betrayed her. She swallowed, glancing quickly around the room with her eyes only, her head was still bowed toward the ground as she couldn’t trust her expression.
Every eye in the room was trained on her. Even the grim soldiers lining the room looked very invested in the conversation. A small smile flitted at her lips as she realized how ridiculous the situation was. Fortunately, happiness was the best emotion to show for an announcement of marriage, so she embraced the smile as she lifted her head. “Yesterday evening—” Her voice was strong and clear. “—with my father’s permission, of course.” She nodded toward her father, but blinked at the right moment so she wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him. “Lord Sol-ah-no and I pledged ourselves to be wed.” She stumbled over Sol’s name, realizing too late that she shouldn’t share his identity. Hopefully no one would notice the slip.
She shot her father a quick glance, though, hoping that he had picked up on her slip.
“Lord Solano?” Younn looked confused.
“From Allys,” Meena glibly supplied, as though everyone should know Lord Solano.
“Solano Gilart.” Erich added. “Son of Lord Gilart. Cousin to the King of Allys.”
“Indeed.” The councilor recovered himself quickly. “Lord Gilart has so many sons, one forgets... often stumbles over their names.”
“An understandable mistake.” King Frederich nodded graciously at the Younn.
Meena exhaled a small sigh of relief. Her father had turned back to their guest and was backing up her claim.
