“Very well then. I suppose all I need to do is show up and make my vows.” Draylon didn’t hide the bitterness in his tone. Father had dictated every other aspect of his life, so why not marriage?
Marriage. Spending his whole life with one person. Draylon shuddered. Spending life with a man who had every right to hate Draylon’s entire family and for whom Draylon could summon no trust.
“The prince will abdicate, and there will be a minor ceremony to prove the union's legitimacy, followed by a modest banquet. Remember that I have plans for your future husband to benefit the greater good.”
The greater good. Draylon nearly screamed. “King. He’s King Yarif, not a prince.”
Draylon would spend his life with a stranger he had no intention of knowing better. A scholarly type who’d likely cave to Father’s every whim—to keep his family safe. Yet, there was a fierceness…
On the other hand, Yarif also appeared ferociously loyal. If only Draylon could win that loyalty for himself. “Rings? Garments?”
“All provided.”
Meaning Draylon wouldn’t even get any choices. “How do we know he’ll agree?”
“If he values his family, he will.”
Which added one more reason for Yarif to hate Draylon. “I will do my duty to my emperor.”And hope I’m not stabbed on my wedding night.“What of succession? We’ll have no heirs.”
“We’ll make a decision when the time comes.”
Draylon knew when to admit defeat. For now. He bowed and turned to leave.
“One more thing, Commander.”
“Yes?” Judging by Father’s sly smile and use of rank, this couldn’t be good.
“I expect you to talk to him and gain his approval. Oh, and inform him he’ll be expected to learn Cormiran.”
So Father didn’t know about Prince Yarif’s language skills. Draylon recalled how Yarif clutched a hairpin with a wickedly pointed end, barely restrained fury in his eyes.
Damnation.
Draylon might wind up stabbedbeforehis wedding night.
Chapter Six
“Areyousureyou’llbe all right?” Yarif would rather stay with the children in their playroom, but he’d been summoned. Not invited. Summoned.
By an arrogant, uncivilized, sand-for-brains lowlander.
“We’re fine. Go eat.” Adrina patted Yarif’s side.
Adrina and Emile thought Yarif merely went to dinner. Yarif couldn’t trouble children with the truth: he’d likely learn his fate tonight.
And possibly theirs.
“You look pretty.” Adrina smoothed a hand over Yarif’s tunic.
Emile sulked, arms folded over his chest. “Men aren’t pretty.”
Ah, when the little one grew up…
Yarif crouched to be on their level. “She can call me pretty if she wants to. Thank you, Adrina.” He hugged them, holding on, reveling in the feel of them close to him, safe, warm, happy, and with a more trustworthy caregiver.
At last, Yarif could put off the inevitable no more. He rose, sniffing slightly. “You’ll be asleep when I return, but I’ll come to tell you goodnight if it’s not too late.”
The children hugged him one more time. They hadn’t yet shown an interest in talking about their father or mother to Yarif, but they’d had few day-to-day interactions with their parents.
