The Blood Spell (Ravenspire, #4)(63)
“It does, but there could be any number of legitimate reasons for it.” The queen leaned forward and tapped the parchment sheets beside Kellan. “Now, let’s discuss your betrothal options.”
Starlight filtered in through the windows and candle lamps glowed soft against the walls by the time Kellan and his mother were finished discussing each family’s strengths. Six of the nine head families had daughters or nieces who were close enough to Kellan’s age to be in the running for the betrothal, though the Barbier family was out of the running since the current queen had come from them. The other three had vested interests in the betrothal based on their own alliances.
The Chauveaus owned the largest business empire, with significant holdings and contacts in the kingdoms of Akram, Súndraille, and Ravenspire, which could only help to strengthen the throne’s relationships with those realms. Plus they had enough wealth to help award contracts to some of the families who’d lost out on the betrothal, which would alleviate the pressure on the royal coffers.
The Perrins had decent holdings and a reputation for excelling at military strategy. Most of Balavata’s head generals had come from the Perrin family, and having a strong alliance with those who ran the military was a smart move for a king worried about a revolt. The queen had heard rumors that the Faure family, which had no one close to betrothal age, was whispering about ousting the Renards and putting the Faures on the throne instead. Those rumors had strengthened in the wake of Kellan’s dismissal of Georgiana from his council. Kellan couldn’t afford to overlook strong ties to Balavata’s army.
The Roches and the Gaillards were both solid leaders in commerce and law and would be able to deepen the crown’s interests in both arenas. And the Evrards’ oldest son had recently married into the royal family in Loch Talam far to the north, where Balavata had few diplomatic or commercial ties.
“Now that we have the pros in place, let’s look at the cons,” the queen said while the faint tolling of cathedral bells from every quarter drifted through the wind, their sonorous chimes proclaiming the tenth hour.
Kellan looked longingly out the window. It was a clear summer night. Perfect for slipping out of his bedroom window, scaling the wall, and heading to the sea for some dangerous nighttime cliff diving.
His pulse kicked up at the thought, and the numb corner of his heart warmed. He could chase death one more time. Look it in the face and dare it to take him like it should’ve done years ago. And then he could beat it and return to the shore remembering what it was like to feel fully alive. If he was lucky, the risk would chase his longing for Blue into the background of his mind as well.
“Don’t even think about sneaking out tonight,” his mother said calmly.
He wrenched his gaze from the window and stared at her. “I wasn’t . . . That’s not . . . How did you—”
“How long have I been your mother, Kellan?”
He squinted. “Is that a trick question?”
“Don’t be cheeky. I’ve known you for nearly nineteen years. Do you really think I’m not aware of how often my son ditches his guards and disappears to do stars knows what for hours at a time?” She sat up straighter, an edge to her voice. “Don’t tell me you’re sneaking out to see a girl.”
“What? No! I just—”
“Is it Blue?”
“Mother.”
“If you’re sneaking out to spend time with Blue and the head families find out—”
“I’m not sneaking out to see a girl. Blue or otherwise.” He enunciated each word with exquisite precision. “I just go swimming.”
She sat back. “Swimming?”
He nodded.
Something flickered in her eyes, and Kellan looked away as she said softly, “Are you swimming because you love it? Or because it’s where you feel closest to your father?”
He shrugged.
She reached across the distance between them and wrapped one cool hand around his. “Be careful, Kellan. That’s all I ask. I know you need moments of freedom from the pressures of being the crown prince, but I don’t want to get a message that my son has disappeared beneath the water and isn’t coming back.”
He nodded but couldn’t trust himself to speak around the sudden tightness in his throat.
“Why don’t we resume this discussion another night?” she asked, and her voice sounded suspiciously shaky at the edges.
He risked a quick glance at her and grimaced at the tears shining in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Her smile wobbled but remained intact. “Crying over their children’s hearts is what mothers do.”
He stood, pulled her from the settee, and wrapped her in his arms. She hugged him fiercely and laughed. “You grew taller than me this past year. We’re going to have to have the tailor look at your dancing clothes to make sure your suit fits for the ball.”
He stepped back and smiled, but whatever he was going to say in response was cut off by a knock at the door.
“Enter,” the queen said.
A page hurried in, handed the queen a folded parchment with the yellow wax seal of the magistrate in the Evrard quarter, bowed, and then exited. The queen moved to her desk, slit the wax seal open with a small knife, and then read the message.
A thick sense of foreboding settled over Kellan as his mother’s shoulders slumped briefly before straightening into her regal, queen-in-charge stance.