Protect the Prince (Crown of Shards #2)(8)



“How generous,” I murmured. “I’m quite happy with my current staff, but I’ll take your offer under advisement.”

His lips puckered again at my deflection, but his sour expression quickly melted into another smug smirk.

“Actually, that’s only part of my offer.” He paused for dramatic effect. “I think the best way to protect both you and Bellona is for my eldest son, Tolliver, to be your official consort.”

Loud gasps surged through the crowd, followed by furious whispers, and several nobles shot Fullman dirty looks, obviously wishing they had been as quick-thinking, brazen, and devious enough to offer up their own sons to wed and bed me.

I silently cursed my own foolishness. I still wasn’t used to being the center of attention, much less the target of everyone’s schemes, and I had miscalculated how aggressive Fullman would be. And now I had to deal with his ridiculous proposal, along with the fallout from it. With a few simple words, the pompous lord had just launched a dozen new plots against me. Now, every single noble would start calculating how they—or one of their relatives—could win my hand in marriage.

Fullman snapped his fingers, and a taller, thinner version of himself stepped out of the crowd. Tolliver tried to smile at me, but it came off as more of a leer, and his gaze was firmly fixed on my crown rather than on my face.

Several of the nobles frowned at Fullman, but no one objected to his proposal, given how rich and powerful he was and how easily he could turn his wrath on them. Even the nobles who were Fullman’s equals in power, land, men, and money kept quiet. They probably wanted to see what I would say to his offer before they made their own gambits.

I gritted my teeth and tamped down my anger. I hadn’t thought that things would deteriorate so quickly, but I should have known better. To everyone here, I was still just Everleigh, an orphan girl with no real magic, money, or power who had been a distant seventeenth in line for the throne. Despite the fact that I had survived the royal massacre and had killed Vasilia in front of them, the nobles still thought that I was weak. At Seven Spire, weakness bred treachery, and treachery bred death.

The only good thing about Fullman’s preposterous proposal was that it told me that he wasn’t the one who wanted me dead right here and now. No, he wanted me to marry his son and get his hands on the throne that way. And then he would probably have me assassinated.

Auster glared at Fullman, and the captain’s hand curled around his sword, as though he wanted to cut down the smug lord. I knew the feeling.

Serilda and Xenia were still standing next to Auster, and they both looked at me, wondering how I would handle this. Out of all the scenarios we had prepared for, this wasn’t one of them. I’d thought the nobles would wait at least another month before trying to secure my hand in marriage, but I should have known better about that too. These were turbulent times in Bellona, and everyone was scrambling to cement what wealth, magic, and power they already had, as well as claw for even more.

Fullman used my silence as an opportunity to keep talking. “It would be far better for you to marry a Bellonan, rather than an outsider. After all, Princess Vasilia consorted with Nox, that wretched Mortan lord, and look how badly he led her astray.”

Loud, mocking laughter erupted out of my lips. “Oh, please. No one ever led Vasilia astray. She decided to murder her mother all on her own. Nox and the Mortans were just a means to an end for her.”

Fullman winced for a second time, and he actually waited a few moments before trying again. “Yes, well, my point remains the same. We wouldn’t want any outsiders to unduly influence our court.”

Once again, he pointedly looked up at Sullivan. It seemed as though Fullman had heard the rumors that Sullivan and I were . . . whatever we were, and he wanted to cut off the other man from the throne. I could have told him that Sullivan had no interest in being my consort, but Fullman wouldn’t have believed me. To him, money and power were the most important things, instead of the principles that Sullivan believed in, principles that I found both admirable and frustrating.

The other nobles also stared at Sullivan. Once again, I could smell his peppery anger, but his face remained a perfect, blank mask. Sullivan understood how these courtly games worked, and he knew that you never let anyone see how much they hurt you.

Fullman jabbed his elbow into Tolliver’s side, forcing the younger man to smile at me again. Tolliver even batted his eyelashes, as though the mere sight of his supposed adoring gaze would be enough to make me swoon, stumble down off the dais, and throw myself into his thin arms.

Fullman must have sensed my disgust because he elbowed Tolliver again, and the younger man stopped his ridiculous attempt at flirting. They both stared at me, clearly expecting an answer, as did everyone else. The other nobles, my friends, the guards. Even the servants stopped passing out food and drinks to see how I would handle this.

“You’re moving rather quickly, Fullman,” I drawled. “I’ve only been on the throne three months, and you’re already planning my wedding. Tell me, do you have my children’s names picked out as well?”

Loud, mocking snickers rang out at my scornful words. I could trade barbs with the best of the nobles, something that everyone was going to realize soon enough.

An angry flush stained Fullman’s cheeks, but he wet his lips and kept going. “Of course not. But Tolliver has long admired you. The two of you grew up together. Don’t you remember?”

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