Page 62 of The Masked Princess

“Oh, I may?” Nelan threw his head back and laughed before pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. “Thank you, darling. I never took you as someone who had a sense of humor, but I don’t think I’ve laughed so hard in a very long time.”

“This isn’t a jest. My father, the King of Dovea, is dead, and as his only heir, the throne falls to me. My court is loyal, but a country without a ruler is like a boat without a rudder—directionless and at risk of capsizing at the first strong wind.”

“I know it is not a laughing matter, Princess. You must think me a fool—despite your posturing as if you’re already crowned, there has been no coronation. While you remain in Rhinnea, you are still Annalise, Princess of Dovea, and my betrothed.”

“Which brings me to my next point—my men and I will leave as soon as possible to return to Dovea to secure my throne. Once I have done so, we can further discuss a new treaty. The pass into Dovea is almost certainly blocked by bad weather, but we will charter a ship out of your northern port. Goddess willing, I hope to be in Dovea within a month.”

Nelan tutted his tongue and rolled a small stone ball back and forth on his desk. “No, you won’t. At least, not until we are wed. I understand you wish the best for your people, but I can’t have you gallivanting off and ruining all of my carefully laid plans. Once you and I are bound in the eyes of our peoples and the Goddess, then perhaps we can take a joint trip to Dovea, where we will both be crowned.”

Annalise’s heart felt as though it dropped through the floor, and the ground seemed to tilt under her feet. She grabbed the edge of his desk to steady herself. “What are you talking about?”

“Do you know why I sent my ambassadors to your father’s court to remind him of this betrothal?”

“It was part of the treaty; you didn’t want another war to break out between Rhinnea and Dovea when you were so newly ascended to the throne.” Even as she said the words, they rang hollow. It was something she’d long wondered about but never quite figured out—why would Dovea’s mortal enemy invoke a long-forgotten clause of a treaty decades in the past?

“You really think that I wanted to marry you, the whelp of that Dovean cur, just because of a clause or two on a treaty nearly older than the both of us? That I’d choose you, and thus peace, over marriage to a woman of my own court who could strengthen my position among the nobility, or a princess of a foreign court that would increase Rhinnea’s allies without allowing an enemy within? Do you really think so highly of your kingdom that you believe we’re scared of a war with you?” Nelan chuckled darkly. He continued to roll the ball on his desk back and forth without pause, as if they were discussing some childish game instead of matters of state that held thousands of lives in the balance.

“Dovea is strong. Our military⁠—”

“Your military is of as much concern to me at the moment as a kitchen maid’s love troubles,” Nelan snarled. The ball came to a stop, and he glared at her. “Sit down. I hear that you’ve spent the past few weeks studying Rhinnea’s history and trade, reading aloud to the men who guard your room as some kind of group history class. I hope you remember your lessons because you’re about to learn something new.”

Annalise considered disobeying his command, but her head felt as though it was filled with felted wool, and she elected to save her strength.

The ball on Nelan’s desk resumed its path, the rumble of its roll only making her head pound more. Nelan didn’t notice her discomfort or, if he did, didn’t care as he launched into his tale.

“There is a kingdom to the west of Rhinnea, called Praxis, that has long had its eye on our mountains, furs, and forests. There is a desert between us that takes several days to cross, but my father’s spies report that the Praxian king has his eye set toward expansion, and we have come across his notice. All things considered, a week’s journey across a desert is not so onerous a task when there lies a resource-rich jewel on the other end.”

“I am familiar with the Praxian kingdom, but haven’t heard news of any such endeavor,” Annalise said.

“Of course you haven’t. Dovea, Yblis, Lorvan, Vintreal—none of the soft kingdoms to the east of the mountains ever care about what we Rhinneans face. My country and its mountains are the shield that protects you from the rest of the world, and yet all we gain is your derision and scorn at our ruthlessness. Well, I say, no more. My father, Goddess rest his soul, was too weakened by illness to do anything, but I will not sit back and turn a blind eye to Praxis’s plans to take over my kingdom. That is the reason why, as soon as I was able, I sent an envoy to Dovea to remind your father of the treaty he signed. You see, darling—” the scorn in Nelan’s voice felt like a lash against Annalise’s exposed skin “—I don’t need your hand in marriage to keep the peace between Dovea and Rhinnea, I need it to protect my kingdom from the looming invasion.”

“As Queen of Dovea, I can send aid in the form of soldiers and supplies, and I’m sure that the other kingdoms will help as well if the threat is as great as you say. Let me go home, and I swear that you and your kingdom will not have to fight alone.”

“We won’t fight alone. With the Queen of Dovea as my wife, I have the upper hand in more ways than one. You see, Annalise, battle is the perfect proving ground for your curse. We already know that your blood is toxic, and with a little trial and error, I’m sure we can pin down how much it can be diluted before it loses its effectiveness. A rain of arrows that guarantees certain death with a single scratch is a very effective weapon indeed. Plus, I have no doubt that Dovea’s military will come to our aid if you remain on the battlefield… especially if the Dovean high general knows that it’s not just your life at stake, but also that of his son. Once we’ve used the Dovean military to soften the Praxian forces, my own men can deal the final blow.” Nelan’s tone remained measured and even, as if he were discussing the weather with an acquaintance.

Annalise drew back at the casual way Nelan talked about what was sure to be a bloodbath. “General Kierson is smarter than you give him credit for. He won’t let you use his son as a game piece, and Soren won’t allow it either.”

“Captain Kierson will do whatever it takes to keep you safe, and as hardened as your high general is, I doubt he would let his only child, the son of his beloved wife, come to harm. So you see, I simply cannot allow you to break our betrothal and leave.” He reached for her, and his face softened. “Don’t you see, Annalise? With our marriage, we will unite Rhinnea and Dovea and weather the storm that barrels our way. You’ve lived so long with this curse… wouldn’t you like to know if perhaps the Goddess gave it to you as a blessing in disguise?”

For a fleeting moment, Annalise allowed herself to wish she could believe him, that she could take the path of least resistance and do what the king wanted, as she had her entire life.

But no, curse or not, she was a queen, and she couldn’t run from her destiny any longer. She leaned away from Nelan’s grasp and shook her head. “Our marriage may unite the two countries, but for how long? Unless my curse is broken, I cannot bear your child, Nelan. When I pass, you will no longer have any claim to my kingdom, and after so many years of hostilities, I fear our people are like oil and water. As for my curse, if the Goddess wishes for it to be useful, she will have to show me in a way that doesn’t involve so much death.”

“That’s not how this works, my darling future wife.” The words dripped from his lips like poison, sending a chill down Annalise’s spine. Nelan’s smile was cold, his eyes like shards of ice in a frozen winter pool. “You see, once you and I are married, I’ll have some legitimacy as ruler of Dovea, and as long as I keep you alive just long enough for everyone to accept my rule, it doesn’t matter if you don’t bear me a child. Rebellion is so much easier to quash once people are used to a monarch, especially with a military weakened by a prolonged campaign. Your eventual death will be regrettable, yes, but a tragedy that everyone saw coming the moment your mother cursed you.

“In fact, depending on how everything shakes out, perhaps I’ll allow the war against Praxis to drag on. While you are away ‘commanding’ the front lines with your Dovean forces as any good queen who cares about her men would, I’ll remain behind to keep the home fires burning as a supportive husband and king to both Rhinnea and Dovea. When you’re tragically killed in battle just before we sign a peace treaty with Praxis, both of our countries will mourn. After a suitable time, I’ll be free to remarry, and my future whelps will inherit the throne of both kingdoms. Sure, the succession may be contentious, but with a united Rhinnean front and a little political maneuvering, it shouldn’t be too hard to squash your Dovean nobility.”

She’d heard enough. Annalise stood, her hands balled into fists. “I won’t let you. I refuse to marry you.”

“You don’t have a choice, my dear. By order of the peace treaty, we are married in all but ceremony, and your fool father didn’t think to leave an exit clause for you in case of his death.” Nelan took a sip from the ornate goblet on his desk. “Or maybe he didn’t want to. Now, what will you do, Princess? You can certainly try to defy me and arrange an escape, but the odds aren’t in your favor. The entire city is on alert. You might fight your way out if the rumors about the fearsome nature of your Dovean guards are to be believed, but at what cost? Will your soldiers protect your maids as they protect you? Will your devoted Captain Kierson sacrifice his life for your freedom?”

Annalise ground her teeth as she desperately tried to think of a way out of the situation.

“I’m waiting, Annalise.”

“I need more time. There have been many monumental changes today, and I need to reflect on them before the wedding,” she said, grasping at anything that might give her a chance to get out of the room and regroup without agreeing to anything.

“You see, that’s where you’re wrong. While there may have been some interesting developments, there is nothing you can do to change anything. You have no option except one: marry me. Although I must say that you’re adorable when you try to plot and plan.”