“Please.
“Admiral,” the queen continued, oblivious to the quick disapproval shadowing his rugged face. “Would you like to be seated?”
With his hands clasped behind him, he glanced at the groupings of dainty chairs. The queen was sitting on the only piece of furniture he wasn’t afraid he’d break. Gwen stood next to the only chair he might have considered next.
“I’m fine standing,” he decided, impatient to get through the civilities and on to the point of their meeting. “But thank you.”
“Well, then.” Though her posture was erect as always, there was a weariness about the queen that washed the color from her skin. Beneath the slashes of pink on her cheeks, she looked as pale as milk. “I have considered the information you provided me through Lady Corbin. She explained your rationale regarding the dinner, and convinced me it would be in the best interests of my son to do as you are insisting. But I need you to understand that I’m only doing this because of him. He is my first concern.”
“I do understand,” he quickly assured her, more relieved than he cared to admit that he wouldn’t have to argue his point yet again. “You have made the right decision.”
“I truly hope so.” The strain in her features entered her voice. “I also hope you will understand that I meant what I said this morning. Preparations will continue for the dinner, but we have canceled my other engagements for the next several days.
“I can’t convincingly present the unruffled front you say you need,” she informed him, suddenly looking beyond tired. Now she simply looked drained. “I don’t understand why it would be necessary, anyway. Lady Gwendolyn and I have discussed the matter at length and we feel the public will expect me to be at my husband’s side and here awaiting news of my son. I said as much in my address, so my absence from the public eye during this time should cause no undue alarm. Especially with Prince Broderick being so…visible.”
With the exception of her last statement, Harrison could find no fault at all in her logic. Broderick was still an unknown entity as far as he was concerned. The rogue wolf of the royal pack, as it were. But his interest now was in finishing his business with the aristocratic and decidedly pale woman rubbing the middle of her forehead. It was she who held the power to make or break the alliances the RET was struggling to keep intact.
“You obviously understand how important appearances are just now,” he told her, carefully considering the logic behind her conclusions. “And your rationale is good. Prince Owen’s captors shouldn’t have any problem buying it, either.”
His brow furrowed in concentration, he paced toward the fireplace. “Your lack of visibility could serve another purpose, too,” he murmured, his mind racing with each deliberate step. “We’ve been concerned that your sudden presence in the political arena will make the people even more aware of the king’s absence. They’re accustomed to seeing you in your usual venues. Education. Charities. The arts,” he enumerated, mentally perusing the lengthy list of her normal activities. “If you are suddenly seen with heads of state in chambers or are associated with the alliances, it would just cause people to remember our present situation. Your absence from the press will be theeasiest way not to constantly remind them that the king is ill.”
Gwen had remained as still as an alabaster statue beside the exceptionally ornate chair. Despite her disagreements with him, she had clearly understood what the RET needed. Because of that, he would have thought she understood his rationale now, too—which was why he had no idea why she was regarding him with obvious disapproval.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said, intent on ignoring Gwen’s frown. “This will truly assure our allies that we are committed to our agreements.” He hesitated, having to think of Gwen, anyway. “Which
“Admiral,” the queen continued, oblivious to the quick disapproval shadowing his rugged face. “Would you like to be seated?”
With his hands clasped behind him, he glanced at the groupings of dainty chairs. The queen was sitting on the only piece of furniture he wasn’t afraid he’d break. Gwen stood next to the only chair he might have considered next.
“I’m fine standing,” he decided, impatient to get through the civilities and on to the point of their meeting. “But thank you.”
“Well, then.” Though her posture was erect as always, there was a weariness about the queen that washed the color from her skin. Beneath the slashes of pink on her cheeks, she looked as pale as milk. “I have considered the information you provided me through Lady Corbin. She explained your rationale regarding the dinner, and convinced me it would be in the best interests of my son to do as you are insisting. But I need you to understand that I’m only doing this because of him. He is my first concern.”
“I do understand,” he quickly assured her, more relieved than he cared to admit that he wouldn’t have to argue his point yet again. “You have made the right decision.”
“I truly hope so.” The strain in her features entered her voice. “I also hope you will understand that I meant what I said this morning. Preparations will continue for the dinner, but we have canceled my other engagements for the next several days.
“I can’t convincingly present the unruffled front you say you need,” she informed him, suddenly looking beyond tired. Now she simply looked drained. “I don’t understand why it would be necessary, anyway. Lady Gwendolyn and I have discussed the matter at length and we feel the public will expect me to be at my husband’s side and here awaiting news of my son. I said as much in my address, so my absence from the public eye during this time should cause no undue alarm. Especially with Prince Broderick being so…visible.”
With the exception of her last statement, Harrison could find no fault at all in her logic. Broderick was still an unknown entity as far as he was concerned. The rogue wolf of the royal pack, as it were. But his interest now was in finishing his business with the aristocratic and decidedly pale woman rubbing the middle of her forehead. It was she who held the power to make or break the alliances the RET was struggling to keep intact.
“You obviously understand how important appearances are just now,” he told her, carefully considering the logic behind her conclusions. “And your rationale is good. Prince Owen’s captors shouldn’t have any problem buying it, either.”
His brow furrowed in concentration, he paced toward the fireplace. “Your lack of visibility could serve another purpose, too,” he murmured, his mind racing with each deliberate step. “We’ve been concerned that your sudden presence in the political arena will make the people even more aware of the king’s absence. They’re accustomed to seeing you in your usual venues. Education. Charities. The arts,” he enumerated, mentally perusing the lengthy list of her normal activities. “If you are suddenly seen with heads of state in chambers or are associated with the alliances, it would just cause people to remember our present situation. Your absence from the press will be theeasiest way not to constantly remind them that the king is ill.”
Gwen had remained as still as an alabaster statue beside the exceptionally ornate chair. Despite her disagreements with him, she had clearly understood what the RET needed. Because of that, he would have thought she understood his rationale now, too—which was why he had no idea why she was regarding him with obvious disapproval.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said, intent on ignoring Gwen’s frown. “This will truly assure our allies that we are committed to our agreements.” He hesitated, having to think of Gwen, anyway. “Which
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