A Royal Wedding(99)

Right now an uneasy truce prevailed, but it had only come about after a long, bloody war. Too many people had died. He thought, with a quick slice of pain, of his own mother, killed by an assassin’s bullet. The factions had fought each other to a standstill, and then it had taken a long, torturous struggle of negotiation to finally settle things, and that had only happened once Julienne’s parents, the King and Queen of the House of Emeraude, had agreed that she would marry Prince Alphonso when she reached twenty-one years. Their marriage would tie the houses of Emeraude and Diamante together for evermore, and help balance the struggle of power between the three houses.

It had to happen. If she didn’t follow through with the treaty’s promise, the country was very likely to go up in flames again. No one wanted that, and as one of the architects of the plan he couldn’t let it happen. In fact, it was up to him to make sure she followed through.

“Your parents gave all the consent that was needed,” he told her coolly. “The deal was sealed. There is no going back on our word.”

“I know all that,” she was saying, looking at him earnestly. “But I’ve thought it over and I think I can fight it in court.”

“In court?” He stopped pacing and stared at her, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Didn’t she realize that as far as this went he was pretty much all the “court” she was going to have at her disposal? How could he explain to her? She really didn’t have a choice.

“Yes,” she said emphatically. “I’m sure forcing me to marry is against my civil rights.”

“Really?” he said, still staring at her. “You think you have civil rights?”

She sat up straighter, looking shocked that he would even question that. “Of course. Everyone does. And making me marry someone just to hold a country together doesn’t make a lot of sense. I bet there’s not another girl in the world who is being expected to do that.”

Poor Julienne. He regarded her with a mixture of exasperation and a certain sad bemusement. How had she managed to make it this far without learning that being royal meant you weren’t like everyone else? That had its obvious advantages, but there was also a downside. She was stuck. She could twist and turn and try to think of every sort of angle, but there was no escape. She would feel a whole lot better about things once she accepted that and got on with her life. In a strange, convoluted way, her plight touched his heart. But there was nothing he could do to remedy it.

She looked so young, so innocent. The late-afternoon light shafting in through the huge picture window seemed to turn her skin a creamy gold.

“You’re probably right,” he told her, fighting off the impulse to reach out and cup her lovely flushed cheek in the palm of his hand. “You’re the only one.”

He saw the hope that flared in her eyes and he hated to douse it, but it had to be done. He knew it was asking a lot to rest all the culture and peace of one country on the shoulders of one tiny twenty-one-year-old girl. But what was right and what was fair just plain didn’t matter. That was the way it was. Her situation was her situation, and if she didn’t abide by the rules he’d set up a lot of people might die. It had happened before. It could happen again. They couldn’t risk it.

“You’re looking at this all wrong,” he told her helpfully. “You should be proud of the sacrifice you are making for your country.”

Her eyes clouded and she wrinkled her nose. “Sorry. Ask someone else, please.”

Was she going to cry? He tensed. If she started to cry it would be impossible to keep his distance and he knew it. But she looked up and smiled at him tremulously. And that was almost as bad.

He had to turn away and begin pacing again. When she sat there looking so adorable, everything in him seemed to yearn toward her. And so he paced, gritting his teeth and searching for strength.

He thought of the first time he’d seen her, when she was only fourteen years old. He’d spent a hard few days negotiating with her parents, the King and Queen, in order to convince them that the only way peace would be achieved would be for them to lock their daughter into a marriage contract that would cement the ties and keep the jealousies in check. With Emeraude and Diamante joined as one, the renegade House of Rubiat wouldn’t dare try another power-grab.

They’d invited him to share their dinner, and, though he usually didn’t like to socialize with negotiating partners, he’d liked the two of them well enough, and respected them enough, to make an impulse decision to eat with them. They’d been talking pleasantly when Julienne had come into the room.