“I agree wholeheartedly. I’d hoped to wait a few days to talk to you, but in light of my father’s death, I must return to Cormira immediately. Since you insist on getting down to business, we’re here to discuss your future.”
“My… future.” Oh, dear.
“Yes. My father forced you into a marriage you didn’t want and used your brother and sister as leverage to ensure your compliance. You didn’t deserve such treatment.” Avestan quietly regarded Yarif for a moment, then gave a decisive nod. What kind of internal dialog had he just held, and what had he agreed with himself on? “I also don’t want my brother to live out his years with a consort who’d rather be anywhere than at Dray’s side.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’m offering you a choice. By your own admission, you have no desire to be king. I'll annul your marriage if you also have no desire to be king consort.”
“You can do that?”
Avestan scowled. Oh, no. Did he think the quick answer indicated Yarif’s choice? “I am emperor. I can do many things.”
“In that case, what would happen to the children and me?”
“One of my brother’s many titles is Duke of Havenwood, a small but profitable estate in the south along the border with Draige. He’ll surrender the title and lands to you. With your management skills, I’ve no doubt you’ll thrive there, and you’ll be near your mother’s family in Draige. I can have the papers drawn up tomorrow. Let me fetch a secretary.” Avestan began to rise.
Yarif threw up a staying hand. “Wait! What if that’s not what I want?”
Avestan reseated himself. “Is there another place you’d like? I understand you hold a few minor titles of your own.”
Was Avestan saying such things because he wanted Draylon out of the marriage? Yarif had half a mind to stick his head out of the door and demand direct answers. “What if I don’t want an annulment?”
Avestan stared at Yarif for several long moments. “Then you would continue as king consort of Renvalle. If you’re amenable, and Draylon agrees, you can name one of the twins as successor.”
“Either one?” Dare Yarif hope?
“Yes. I hope Delletina will soon be part of the empire, and they’re not the only monarchy to name both sons and daughters as heirs.”
Could things really fall into place so easily? Well, not precisely easily, based on all Yarif had endured. “What of Draylon? What does he want?”
Avestan rolled his shoulders. “Mostly to please his emperor. And I want for him to remain here. Oh, and also to please his king consort. Offering up the dukedom to make amends for Father and to give you a choice was Draylon’s idea, but I know he hoped you’d turn it down.”
Yarif relaxed, letting out tension with a heavy exhale. “I stated in my vows that I came of my own free will. I haven’t changed my mind.”
“I’m delighted to hear it. I’ll be leaving shortly for Cormira, hopefully to not be too far behind the news of our emperor’s demise. I expect you and my brother at Father’s state funeral and my coronation. After that, you’ll both act as emissaries to Delletina.” Avestan winked. “When visiting, take Commander Rufe with you.”
“CommanderRufe?” Better than Commander Illa.
“Yes. I went to his room personally to bestow the promotion. I think he’ll be useful in diplomacy with King Niam.”
“Why do you say that?”
Avestan smirked. “Because our dearest Commander Rufe had to climb over King Niam to get out of bed.”
Yarif found himself on horseback three days later, riding incognito beside Draylon on their way to the capital. Occasionally he glanced over to see Draylon smiling.
“What?” Draylon’s brow furrowed.
“You kept me.”
Draylon let out an inelegant snort. “Of course I kept you. You’re my husband. You could have taken the annulment.”
“Did you want me to?”
“No!”
Yarif’s horse started at the sudden shout.
