Glitter (Glitter Duology #1)(82)
“Leave us,” I say with a wave of my hand.
I’m certain Mateus looks to his sovereign before obeying, but I don’t turn to check. The door clicks shut behind me and I approach the King’s desk. There I stand, my hands loosely clasped in front of me.
His Highness is almost ready to retire. He’s removed both his jacket and waistcoat, and his long hair is tied back and away from his face—but his tablet is still out, and he’s scribbling at it furiously with a stylus. Drafting legislation, perhaps, or approving purchase orders. When it comes to profits, political influence, and power, you can use any one to buy another; the King, scarcely older than me, has all three. It’s too much for any one person. Lets him get away with murder.
With a sigh, His Majesty taps his stylus a few more times, then leans back, unfastening one more button on his linen shirt. “Yes, my love?” His tone is so sharp it could almost erase the reasonable pseudo-friend of this morning.
I refuse to cringe. “I’ve reconsidered,” I say flat out. “I’ve come here to accept the offer you made to me earlier today. I was”—I swallow hard as the dream of his ruination drains away—“I was emotional and irrational. Understandably so, I think. Your offer was exceedingly generous, and a few hours of contemplation have shown me the wisdom of accepting it.”
An oily smile crosses His Majesty’s face, and I hurry to continue lest I lose control of this situation entirely.
“I do have a few requirements. With my mother so very sadly deceased, I feel it would be in exceedingly poor taste not to have my father in attendance at my wedding. Therefore, I propose he remain here until we both leave together, a few days after the wedding. Well, all three of us. I shall still require my secretary to continue to manage my affairs.” I can’t quite hold his gaze as I add that last bit.
It’s the most important part.
I have to take him with me. I have to find a way. If I take the King’s offer, I won’t have to pay for my escape, so I’ll have my Glitter profits. Much as the thought sickens me, if I have to buy Saber from Reginald to free him, I will. It’s a temporary solution—I’ll never know peace while the King knows my whereabouts, but Saber’s freedom is more important.
His Highness leans back in his chair, looking thoroughly amused. It unnerves me and I continue talking, doing my best to keep my words from unraveling into rambling. But I have to get it all out while I still have the courage.
“For the sake of appearances, my father and I should both be present at the board meeting following the wedding—I’ll make sure my father behaves himself—and then there’ll be no question of tampering or undue influence. It’s in both of our interests. We can leave for Languedoc-Roussillon directly following the vote. That very night, if it pleases you.” My votes. My father’s votes. I’m selling them to him. All hope of revenge—of justice for Sierra Jamison—gone. A deal with the devil seems more palatable.
But I’ll be with Saber. Somehow. I’ll free him. I’ll find a way to free myself after that.
His Highness doesn’t speak for a long time. He’s getting what he wants—he should be gloating. But he merely sits, a smirk on his face, looking relaxed. Looking satisfied.
“Really?” he finally says.
“Indeed.”
Then, like a snake springing from a coil, His Majesty lets his chair tilt forward and rises from his seat. “I don’t think that’s the way things are going to happen at all.”
Icy fear freezes in my chest as His Highness makes his way around the desk and stalks behind me, running one fingertip along the skin just above my off-the-shoulder gown, producing an insuppressible shiver.
“You see, you’re not the only one who’s had a few hours to reconsider, love. I did a fair amount of ruminating on my hasty offering as well.” He continues to circle and gestures casually with one hand as a sense of foreboding washes over me. “The offer itself wasn’t a bad one, per se. But your reaction to it changed a lot of things in my mind.”
“My reaction?” I say, my face as emotionless as a piece of white parchment.
“I offered you freedom—you instantly rebelled. Everything in my offer hinges upon your voting the way I ask. If I can’t control you when you’re standing right in front of me, how can I ever expect to maintain my influence over your votes from seven hundred kilometers away?”
“But I’m cooperating.”
“You’re cooperating now.” He’s standing at my left shoulder, and he lifts an errant lock of hair, leans down to bring it to his nose. “Your little rebellion was infuriating, yes, but also arousing.”
“Don’t forget about the video,” I say casually, though terror is clawing at my self-control.
“That video never even reached M.A.R.I.E.,” the King says in tones of mock condolence. “Your mother made several encrypted copies on storage devices she mailed to coconspirators with fairly explicit instructions. Sadly, none seem to have reached their intended destinations.”
“You missed one,” I snap, refusing to lose the upper hand. For all I know, he’s bluffing too. “Don’t underestimate—”
“Enough.” The King grabs my arm, spins me around, and pushes me against his desk so quickly that I’m pinned before it even occurs to me to resist. And in that moment, I know I’ve lost. I’ve lost for me, I’ve lost for my father, I’ve lost for Saber. A squeak escapes my mouth, but His Highness covers it with one hand and places the other firmly behind my back. Planting himself between my knees, he pulls me tight against him, and I feel tears start to prick my eyes.