Protect the Prince (Crown of Shards #2)(59)

The king fell silent, and everyone turned their attention back to me, cataloguing and analyzing every slight rise and fall of my chest, every subtle shift of my body, and especially every faint expression that flickered across my face.

A hard truth punched me in the heart—that up until now, I had just been playing at being queen. Dealing with the nobles and their petty squabbles, weeding the turncoat guards out of Seven Spire, even surviving Maeven’s assassination attempt. Those trials had all just been practice for this moment, when my thoughts, words, and actions would truly shape what happened to my kingdom and to my people, perhaps for generations to come.

The crown of shards on my head had never felt heavier.

Still, I remained silent, desperately trying to think, even as my gaze moved from one person to the next, studying their reactions just as they were all still studying mine.

Stern, confident Heinrich. Sad, resigned Dominic and Gemma. Resolute Rhea. Sympathetic Dahlia. Smug, smiling Helene. Of course she would be happy about this. I couldn’t have a relationship with Sullivan if I was married to Dominic.

I looked past the table at my friends standing along the wall. Serilda, Cho, and Alvis all looked as shocked as I still felt, and Paloma had her hand on her mace, as though she was ready to grab it and beat down anyone who tried to stop me from leaving.

Xenia’s lips were puckered in thought, as were those of the ogre on her neck. She wasn’t surprised by the proposal, and she was probably already thinking about how my saying yes or no would affect everyone here, as well as in the kingdoms beyond.

And finally, there was Sullivan, who was still sitting right next to his father. I couldn’t tell exactly what he was thinking or feeling, since he was staring at the wall instead of looking at me, but a muscle tick-tick-ticked in his jaw like the second hand on a clock, and his hands clenched the arms of his chair, as if he needed something solid to hold on to in order to keep from unleashing the emotional volcano bubbling up inside him.

“I’ve heard about your problems with the Bellonan nobles,” Heinrich continued. “How they have been . . . less than pleased with your leadership. Marrying Dominic would go a long way toward earning the support of your own people.”

Yes, yes, it would. Fullman, Diante, and the other nobles might not have wanted me to come to Andvari, but even they would agree that my marrying the crown prince was a shrewd, advantageous move, especially given all the wealth and prosperity Dominic would bring to Bellona in the form of new trade agreements and the like. All that money would help soothe the nobles’ anger that I hadn’t married one of them and allay their doubts about their continued prosperity during my reign.

“Plus, we would present a fully united front to the Mortans,” Heinrich added. “Not only now, but for future generations to come.”

More shock scorched through me, but it was quickly drowned out by sick understanding. Heinrich was talking about whatever children I might have with Dominic.

I forced myself to study the crown prince. Dark brown hair. Blue eyes. Strong, muscled body. Dominic was a handsome man, and many women probably would have been thrilled to bed him, but the idea left me feeling cold and nauseated. He wasn’t the one I wanted.

He would never be the one I wanted.

Dominic managed to smile at me, but he must have sensed my disgust because the expression quickly faded away.

I turned my attention back to Heinrich. “Your proposal certainly would benefit us both.”

Like it or not, every word Heinrich had said was true. Marrying Dominic would solve several of my most immediate, pressing problems. It would appease the Bellonan nobles, help me secure the throne, and unite our kingdoms against the Mortans.

But I was a Bellonan, and I knew how to play the long game. So I could see how the marriage would benefit me now—and just how much more it would benefit Heinrich and Andvari in the long run.

Heinrich already had two heirs—Dominic and then Gemma. He would sacrifice Dominic to me and send his only living legitimate son to Bellona, but he would keep Gemma here at Glitnir and groom her to be queen of Andvari.

On the surface, it seemed like a simple trade—until you factored in whatever children Dominic and I might have. And those children, well, they could lead to other possibilities.

Very dark and deadly possibilities.

“Well?” Heinrich asked. “What do you say, Everleigh? Shall we unite our kingdoms in marriage?”

Despite all my misgivings, I still seriously, seriously considered it. Marrying Dominic might be distasteful, but so were lots of other things I’d done lately, and many more things I would do as queen.

For the first time since I’d taken the throne, I didn’t look to my friends for guidance, support, or approval. I was the queen, and this was my decision.

I was also very careful not to look at Sullivan again. My feelings for him couldn’t be a factor. Not in the slightest. This was about what was best for Bellona, not for my heart. For the first time, I got an inkling of what it really meant to be a Winter queen, and it wasn’t about magic at all. No, it was about making the hardest choices under the most difficult circumstances to achieve the greatest good.

I breathed in and out, trying to slow my pounding heart and calm my frayed nerves. The nobles’ floral perfumes and spicy colognes filled my nose, along with the lingering scents from dinner, but there was another, stronger aroma that surprised me. Sour, sweaty eagerness, mixed with a large dose of rotting desperation—and it was coming from the king.