The head maid was waiting in my office, trembling as she always did in my presence.
“Do you have everything ready for Ivetta?” I asked coolly.
“Y-y-yes, y-y-your highness,” she stammered.
Whether she had the good sense not to ask why Ivetta didn’t take up residence in her new quarters last night, or whether she was too afraid to say anything more than was absolutely necessary, I didn’t know. And I didn’t care.
“Good. I expect you to treat her with respect going forward. Do you understand?”
She paled at my words. Clearly, she hadn’t thought about what would happen if word of her mistreatment of Ivetta got back to me.
“Do you understand?” I repeated.
“Y-y-yes, y-y-your highness.”
“Consider this your only warning. Go.”
The woman practically fled from my presence. I chuckled to myself and headed for the front gate. It wouldn’t take long to hail a carriage, but I didn’t want Ivetta having to wait for any length of time. I arranged for the carriage to be stationed at the ready for us, and I returned to my room.
Ivetta was still sitting at the desk, the food largely untouched.
“That’s all?” I asked, frowning.
“I’m sorry, Prince Chevalier, I’m just not hungry,” she said quietly.
I sighed. This was hitting her a lot harder than I’d expected.
“I’ve got a carriage ready for us.”
“That won’t be necessary, your highness.”
And, yet, still too stubborn for her own good, too concerned with inconveniencing others.
“Yes, it is,” I said firmly.
I waited a moment, but she didn’t move. Had she even heard me? The way she was staring into nothingness, I wasn’t so sure. I gently took her arm and pulled her to her feet. She could stand, at least, and although she didn’t say anything, she seemed like she was more aware. I walked her to the carriage and helped her in, taking the seat beside her.
“Prince Chevalier, I appreciate everything you’ve done, but you really don’t need to come with me.”
“I will decide what I do and do not need to do.”
Especially since she was barely functional.
We rode in silence until the carriage came to a halt at her house. She didn’t look at me at all the entire journey. She either looked out the window or down at her hands. I wanted to put my arm around her, to run my fingers through her damp hair, to tell her everything would be okay, but I wasn’t sure she could handle that. She was uncomfortable enough just sitting next to me.
I couldn’t fix this for her.
The carriage came to a stop, and I stepped out and turned back to help her. There were no cobblestone roads here, just dirt. No stone or brickwork on the houses, not even any houses, really; just little shacks on the edge of the village, planks of wood on all four sides. Some of the roofs were only covered by thatched straw. She took my hand and stepped out of the carriage, staring at the shack behind me. The one with the foul smell coming from it. But of course it had a foul smell. Her mother had been bedridden for the past week or so. She’d probably had a bucket or container of some sort near the bed for easy access. And Ivetta hadn’t even slept or changed clothes the night her mother had died. If she couldn’t take care of herself, she certainly couldn't be expected to attend to such an odious duty as dumping her mother’s waste container.
Which was probably what she’d been doing when Gilbert found her, hence his attempt to shame me about how I was failing to see to her needs. As if I needed the reminder.
I opened the door to the tiny shack she called a home, already disapproving before I followed her in. There wasn’t even a floor, just neatly swept dirt. And it was only one room, one small room that contained her entire life. An empty bed in one corner, sized for one person only, with the offensive bucket next to it; a little table with two rickety chairs in another corner; against one wall, a cookstove and a washbasin - and that was it. This was where she had lived for the past eighteen years, this delicate flower, somehow blooming even though she was veritably strangled by weeds. Unsurprisingly, all was tidy and in order, except for the unmade bed, the bucket, and a few pills on the table. The doctor told me he’d prescribed her tranquilizers after her mother died. She should have taken them.
I looked down at her, hugging herself as she stared at the empty bed. She’d shared that bed with her mother for eighteen years. The urge to take her into my arms came again, and again, I resisted.
“Get what you want. You’ll stay at the palace.”
“Thank you, Prince Chevalier, but I’d like to stay here tonight.” Her voice was unusually soft and weak, just like the rest of her.
I frowned, but said, “Do what you like. The funeral is set for tomorrow morning. I’ll send a carriage to pick you up after.”
“Thank you, Prince Chevalier.”
I looked at her for a moment longer, this fragile little dove before me, and I hated the thought of leaving her alone. But it was what she wanted. Maybe it would help her, give her some closure. I’d join her at the funeral in the morning, and then I’d bring her back to the palace with me. It was only a few hours. She needed the time.
“Tomorrow, then,” I said simply, and then I left.
I leaned back against the carriage seat, closing my eyes to block out all external distractions while I thought. It was now well-known throughout the palace that her mother had died and she was home alone, thanks to Leon’s big mouth. I’d have to station a guard at her door. And remind Gilbert of my threat. And check with Leon about the informant, Baron Flandre, and Julius. Clavis should have been keeping Leon updated in my absence. Nokto probably wasn’t back yet.
And then, of course, I had to talk to Sariel. He wasn’t going to be happy about this turn of events, but I really didn’t care what he thought, or what any of the nobility thought. She was the wrong social class, she was too young, and she was the only woman for me. If she felt the same way I did, there was no way I was letting her go.
I selected and dispatched the guard, and then I summoned Gilbert to my office.
“Ah, Chevalier, it’s good to see you back at work,” he said, all smiles as he closed the door behind him.
“Take a seat,” I replied coolly, motioning to the chair across from my desk.
“Of course. You and I have a lot to discuss,” he said casually as he sat.
“Then you and Leon spoke yesterday.”
Gilbert shrugged. “He may have mentioned a few things in passing, but I expect you will want to go into much greater detail.”
“You would be correct. But first, what are Obsidian’s intentions with Rhodolite going forward?”
He chuckled. “This was a fact-finding mission, and I have yet to report back to the Emperor. I can’t answer that question.”
“You won’t answer the question,” I corrected, irritated by his typically evasive answer. “Then I will tell you what I know. You made a deal with a Rhodolitian baron along our shared border earlier this year, offering him protection in exchange for an open passageway for your invading force. I killed the baron, and all those associated with his betrayal, and secured the border. At that time, my scouts discovered Obsidian is preparing to manufacture new weapons for its army, and you have been selling arms to rebels within the anti-war faction here in Rhodolite, as well as to rebels within Benitoite and Jade, in the effort to weaken all three countries in advance of your invasion. How am I doing so far?”
“My, you have been busy,” Gilbert replied, still smiling. He leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on my desk, crossing them at the ankles. “Supposing any of what you said is true, that would mean Rhodolite is in a very bad position, wouldn’t it?”
“You also have a knight among Leon’s troops, planted three years ago to get close to Leon and kill him. Julius, I believe. Unfortunately for you, Leon pegged him as a traitor immediately, and Leon’s head is still very much attached to his body while Julius is his right-hand man, always too close to get away with anything.”
Gilbert laughed. “Leon is such a softie.”
“And, of course, Baron Flandres is attempting to strike a deal with you, similar to that made by his unfortunate neighbor earlier this year.”
“Hm. I just have to wonder, do you have any proof of these wild accusations?”
I smirked and nodded, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms over my chest. “But a war isn’t in Obsidian’s best interests, is it? War ravages the land, destroying a country’s infrastructure and decimating its supply chain. You need Rhodolite’s lands and supplies to feed your troops. And Rhodolite must fall before you can access Benitoite’s trade harbors and Jade’s crops and livestock.”
His blood red eye glinted. “You have my attention.”
“An alliance would serve all four countries much better than a war.”
“Ah, but you’re forgetting something.” He removed his feet from my desk and leaned forward. “Obsidian’s army is large enough to overwhelm Rhodolite’s in a matter of days, sparing much of the land and infrastructure, and eliminating any pesky political bartering.”
“If the armies from Benitoite and Jade weren’t waiting in the wings, perhaps,” I replied coolly.
There was a moment of silence while my threat hung in the air, and then Gilbert laughed.
“It seems I’ll have much to discuss with the Emperor upon my return.” He stood to go.
“We’re not done,” I snapped.
He sighed. “I’m beginning to tire of this.”
“Then I’ll be brief.” I stood up and walked around the desk toward him. “You recall my threat regarding Ivetta.”
His smile finally fell into a scowl. “What of it?”
“I would hate to have to make good on that.”
His eye flashed. “I have no intention of hurting her. But I hope you have the good sense to see that she’s under guard, since Leon advertised her vulnerability to the entire palace.”
I didn’t know what irritated me more. The fact that Gilbert was obviously developing feelings for her, or the fact that he was right.
No, I knew which one bothered me more.
“I have seen to her safety. But if anything happens to her, you will be the first person I question.”
Gilbert shrugged and headed for the door. “I only hope it doesn’t come to that, but from what I hear, you haven’t done too well protecting her so far, have you?”
I slammed the door shut as he tried to open it. “And you think you can do better?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“I know I can,” he hissed. “You’ve gone soft, Chevalier. A caged bird is far safer than one that is allowed to fly freely.”
I removed my hand and smirked. “So, that’s it. You would have me lock her up for her own good.”
“That would eliminate all difficulties, yes,” he confirmed, crossing his arms over his chest, his blood red eye flashing.
“And that is the difference in our two countries. Here, we allow our people to have a choice. Which is why she comes to me for help instead of you. If you have any suggestions that don’t involve stripping her of her freedoms, then I am more than willing to hear them. Otherwise, get out.”
He glared at me and left.
I let out my breath and leaned against the door for a moment. Gilbert had hit on exactly the matter that most bothered me. I’d never felt so inadequate as I did when it came to Ivetta’s safety. It shouldn’t be this difficult. But, just when I thought I had everything under control, I was blindsided by a new threat. Short of locking her up, I really was doing the best I could. Which wasn’t enough.
Leon next, and then Sariel. Except Leon wasn’t in his office.
“Prince Chevalier, please tell me this is your idea of a joke,” Sariel said less than an hour later, his lavender eyes narrowed behind his glasses as he looked at me across his desk.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” I said coolly, settling back in the chair across from him. “And, if you would like to keep your head and your body connected to each other, you will refrain from any lewd suggestions about ‘keeping her on the side.’”
His smile widened, as it always did when I frightened him.
“I suppose it’s no use going through the list of reasons why this is entirely inappropriate,” he said with a sigh.
“You would be correct.”
He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “It may be possible for me to manufacture a backstory that will make this more acceptable. Nobody knows who her father is, and her mother came from another country. For all we know, her mother could have been a noblewoman fleeing her country when it was overrun by Obsidian.”
“Do whatever you feel is necessary, but I couldn’t care less about her background.”
He put his glasses back on. “Obviously. Her mother’s name is Evelyn, isn’t it?”
I nodded.
“Not a common name around here, but fairly common in Garnet. The queen was named Evelyn.” He gave a harsh laugh. “That would be stretching it. But an escaped noblewoman from Garnet, now that I can work with. I hope you’ll give me some time, Prince Chevalier. This won’t be easy.”
I stood to go. “She’ll need a few days to recover, and when she does, I’ll have her decision. If she turns me down, you’ll have nothing to worry about. And, of course, it goes without saying that you will make no attempts to influence her.”
“Of course. May I simply request notice when she makes up her mind?”
I stopped at the door and smirked. “Your request has been noted."49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2Ndf3CJesr
