So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)(134)

“Is he even human?” Brigitta cried. Dear goddesses, she had thought she could do this. She loved Rupert so much, she’d thought she could sacrifice herself to save his innocent younger brother.

Wrong man. Wrong man. “I can’t do it! I won’t!” She picked up her skirt and ran for the door.

The guards moved to stop her, but she knocked them aside. “I’m going to see the king! If you touch me, I’ll tell my brother that you molested me.”

The guards gulped and stepped back.

“Where is His Majesty?” she asked them.

“The Great Hall,” one of the guards mumbled.

She ran down the hallway and into the grand foyer, then up the steps to the Great Hall. The afternoon sun gleamed through the long windows, making the numerous mirrors sparkle as they reflected the gilt-covered walls and ceiling. Gold everywhere, from the countless wall sconces to the golden throne on the dais.

This was where the wedding would take place. Five-foot-tall golden vases held huge arrangements of white roses and gold-plated ferns.

“More flowers!” Gunther demanded, and the servants scurried from the room. He spotted Brigitta in the doorway and motioned to her. “Come in. We can practice our grand entrance.”

She rushed toward him. “I need to talk to you—”

“I like the gown.” He lowered his voice. “Do you know if you’re pregnant yet?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Please, don’t make me go through with the wedding tomorrow.”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “You agreed.”

“I was forced! Do you remember the nun who came with me? Sister Fallyn? Mador is holding her hostage. He threatened to kill her if I don’t marry him.”

Gunther gave her an annoyed look. “Then marry him.”

“You would have me marry a man who could kill a nun?”

Gunther shrugged. “He knows how to get the results he wants. That’s an admirable trait.”

Brigitta groaned with frustration. “He’s not even Mador. He’s an imposter who—”

“Enough! I’m sick of hearing that ridiculous excuse.”

“Your Majesty!” Lord Argus ran into the Great Hall, then stopped with a grimace. “I-I have bad—”

“Out with it!” Gunther yelled.

Lord Argus inclined his head. “The people of Lourdon are in the streets, demanding that you … abdicate.”

“What?” Gunther stalked toward his chief counsel. “Where would they get such a stupid idea?”

“It’s because of these notices, Your Majesty.” Lord Argus lifted a sheet of paper. “They’re being spread all over Lourdon and in every village across the coun—”

“Let me see.” Gunther ripped the paper from Lord Argus’s hand. His face grew pale as he read it. “Is—is this true?”

Lord Argus winced. “I don’t know, Your Majesty.”

Gunther’s hand shook. “It can’t be true!” He turned toward Brigitta, his face flushing a mottled red. “Did you know about this? Have you been conspiring with him?”

“I don’t know what that is,” she replied.

Gunther shoved the paper in her face and shouted, “Did you know?”

She quickly read the notice.

Seven is the true hero of the competition for the princess Brigitta.

Seven is Rupert, who stole Gunther’s gold so he can return it to you, the people.

Seven is the lost Prince Ulfrid, who will rescue you from Gunther’s tyranny and bring you peace and prosperity.

Gunther crumpled the paper in his fist and threw it across the room. “Is it true? Seven is Rupert and the lost prince?”

Brigitta nodded. “It’s true.”

Gunther raised his fists in the air with a growl of frustration. “You conspired with the enemy!”

“We are the enemy,” Brigitta said. “Our family murdered his and stole the crown. It belongs to him.”

“No!” Gunther grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “You fool! The crown belongs to the one with enough balls to take it.”

“Your Majesty!” A soldier ran into the room. “Admiral Helgar has just arrived. Th-the royal navy has been destroyed and taken over by the pirate Rupert.”

Gunther flinched.

“Then I guess the crown will be his,” Brigitta whispered. “’Cause he certainly has the balls to take it.”

“No!” Gunther shouted.

“Let me marry him,” Brigitta insisted. “It will unite the north and south. The kings will come from the House of Trepurin and the House of Grian. Your bloodline will continue to rule.”

“The Trepurins are the enemy!” Gunther stormed across the room toward the dais. “Get General Mador in here. Now!”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Lord Argus dispatched a guard to fetch the new general.

“The Trepurins ruled this country for four hundred years,” Brigitta said.

“Stop it!” Gunther hissed at her. “You’re a traitor.”

“I simply want to return our country to the rightful king. Rupert will take good care of our people. You can’t trust Mador to do that. We don’t even know who he is!”