Glitter (Glitter Duology #1)(74)
“In exchange,” His Highness says, glaring pointedly at me, “in three weeks I’ll send you to join him, under the excuse that you need time out of the public eye to mourn your mother properly. Same agreement: full financial support in exchange for your votes always—always—in my corner.”
“Three weeks?” I echo, understanding now. “Our wedding is in fifteen days.”
“I always said there was more to you than a pretty face,” His Highness nearly coos, sounding much more himself now. “No, scratch that, I never said anything of the sort. You are, nonetheless, correct. We must still wed in order for you to gain control over the Queen’s shares.”
“Why not wed someone else? I happen to know someone who’d jump at the opportunity, with the added bonus that you’re already sleeping with her.”
His Highness leans almost languidly against the bedpost and shakes his head. “Lady Cyn? Might as well wed myself to a yapping dog.”
Though I wholeheartedly agree, I say nothing.
“Imagine, if you will,” he says at last, not losing an ounce of bravado, “my throwing you over on the very day of your mother’s untimely death, choosing Lady Cyn, and going forward with a wedding prepared for another woman. The board would think me barking mad, and half of my supporters would abandon me to obvious insanity. No, the time for substitutions is long past; it’s got to be you.”
I open my mouth, but he silences me.
“This isn’t the eighteenth century, Dani,” he says, back to that unnervingly calm voice again. “Marriage doesn’t last forever. I propose two years. Two years of a marriage that starts to crumble right from the beginning, when my distraught bride refuses to return from mourning and eventually wishes to abdicate her role as Queen entirely.” He gives a slight nod in my direction. “And during those years, I’ll enact a few exceptionally profitable policies I’ve been planning for years and win the board back. We divorce, and I continue with my original plan of marrying sometime in my late thirties for the sole purpose of reproducing.”
“Lucky girl,” I mutter.
“Indeed,” His Royal Highness snaps. “One who’ll undoubtedly recognize that fact in a way that you certainly never have.”
I raise an eyebrow.
He clenches his teeth. “I am the King, Danica. Everyone in this palace seems to understand that but you. Maybe if you gave my position the tiniest bit of respect, I wouldn’t have to shove my way about so much. In our relationship, I’m not your worst enemy; you are.”
I give him my back, my arms crossed over my chest, adrenaline and rage surging through me.
“It’s a generous offer, considering the turmoil you’ve brought into my life,” the King says softly. “In addition, I swear to lie stunningly about a consummation that I promise will never actually occur—so long as you agree to do the same.”
That addition catches me by surprise and makes his offer all the more tempting. If I got enough patches from Reginald to support my father for the rest of his probably short life, I’d be there to distribute them. Maybe wean him carefully off Reginald’s dangerously high dosage.
I’d still have to wed Justin. But with the promise of a divorce in just two years! Assuming he was inclined to keep his word. Which he might not be. I can’t forget that beneath all this corporate intrigue, I’m first and foremost a witness to murder—a loose end who hasn’t quite outlived her usefulness. So what happens when I do?
Still…something to consider. Very seriously consider.
I turn to face him again. “Might I bring my manservant?” I hate that my voice trembles.
“The one skulking in the hallway?”
At that I hear a soft shifting, and Saber comes around the corner. I don’t look, but judging by the expression on His Majesty’s face, a glaring war ensues.
“I suppose you’ll need someone to unlace your damned corsets,” His Highness accedes. “If it must be him, so be it.” He looks down at my father, who’s slumped even farther down in his chair, wearing the look of a guilty child as the King and I argue over his head. “Your father has already agreed. I was about to have paperwork drawn up when you interrupted us. He is going. The only question is whether you’ll follow. You and this dandy here.”
I feel Saber ruffle at being called a dandy, but his ego is hardly my first concern right now.
As the moment draws out, His Highness steps forward, looking, for the first time in months, entirely earnest. As though we were friends. Peers. “Come on, Dani,” he says softly. “Agree. We can put this whole miserable chapter of both our lives behind us for good. Neither of us wanted any of this to begin with, and now we can be free. Say yes.”
And for a fleeting heartbeat I think I can. I think I will.
But—
But in that moment I understand what’s at stake. Not the votes. Or rather, more than the votes. If I say yes now, His Highness gains control of my father, which means he maintains control of me. But if I say no, the King loses his control over far more than just my father—he loses control over his future.
And I take it.
Which wouldn’t be alluring in the least if it were simply control for the sake of control. But the King is a murderer! I could bring him down. If I decline his offer, finish raising the money I need, and leave the night before the wedding, everything His Majesty has worked for his entire life—most especially in the last two years—will be destroyed. But more than that, if he gets away with murder once, only to gain even more power, what’s to stop him from doing it again and again? Who would question him? But if he loses my votes at the last moment, he’ll lose the board, lose his throne, lose his power over me—over everyone. And I don’t see any way for him to get it back, ever.