Convenient Bride For The King - Kelly Hunter

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are you doing, sending her a form letter marriage proposal? I thought you wanted her co-operation.’

      ‘I do want her co-operation. I will confess, I wasn’t expecting quite that much no in response.’

      ‘You thought she’d fall all over the offer.’

      ‘I thought she’d at least consider it.’

      ‘She did.’ Augustus’s tone was dry—very dry. ‘When’s the petition for your removal from the throne being tabled?’

      ‘Week after next, assuming my uncle gets the support he needs. He’s close.’ The petition was based on a clause in Liesendaach’s constitution that enabled a monarch who had no intention of marrying and producing an heir to be removed from the throne. The clause hadn’t been enforced in over three hundred years.

      ‘You need a plan B,’ said Augustus.

      ‘I have a plan B. It involves talking to your sister in person.’

      ‘You heard her. She’s not interested.’

      ‘Stable boy,’ Theo grated. ‘Dissolute film star. Would you rather she took up with them?’

      ‘Why are you any more worthy? A damn form letter, Theo.’ Augustus appeared to be working up to a snit of his own. ‘Couldn’t you have at least shown up? I thought you cared for her. I honestly thought you cared for her more than you ever let on, otherwise I would have never encouraged this.’

      ‘I do care for her.’ She was everything a future queen of Liesendaach should be. Poised, competent, politically aware and beautiful. Very, very beautiful. He’d dragged his heels for years when it came to providing Liesendaach with a queen.

      And now Moriana, Princess of Arun, was free.

      Her anger at her current situation had nothing on Theo’s when he thought of how much time they’d wasted. ‘Your sister put herself on hold for a man who didn’t want her, and you—first as her brother, and then as her King—did nothing to either expedite or dissolve that commitment. All those years she spent sidelined and waiting. All her hard-won self-confidence dashed by polite indifference. Do you care for her? Has Casimir ever given a damn? Because from where I sit, neither of you could have cared for her any less. I may not love her the way she wants to be loved. Frankly, I don’t love anyone like that and never have. But at least I notice her existence.’

      Silence from the King of Arun.

      ‘You miscalculated with the form letter,’ Augustus said finally.

      ‘So it would seem,’ Theo gritted out.

      ‘I advise you to let her cool down before you initiate any further contact.’

      ‘No. Why do you never let your sister run hot?’ Even as a child he’d hated seeing Moriana’s fiery spirit squashed beneath the weight of royal expectations. And, later, it was one of the reasons he fought with her so much. Not the only one—sexual frustration had also played its part. But when he and Moriana clashed, her fire stayed lit. He liked that.

      ‘I need to see her.’ Theo ran a hand through his already untidy hair. ‘I’m not asking you to speak with her on my behalf. I’ve already heard you do exactly that and, by the way, thanks for nothing. What kind of diplomat are you? Yes, I’m being pressured to marry and produce heirs. That’s not an argument I would have led with.’

      ‘I didn’t lead with it. I mentioned it in passing. I also sang your praises and pushed harder than I should have on your behalf. You’re welcome.’

      ‘I can give her what she wants. Affection, attention, even fidelity.’

      Not love, but you couldn’t have everything.

      ‘That’s your assessment. It’s not hers.’

      ‘I need to speak with her.’

      ‘No,’ said Augustus. ‘You need to grovel.’

       CHAPTER TWO

      PUBLIC FLAYING OR NOT, Moriana’s charity commitments continued throughout the day and into the evening. She’d put together a charity antique art auction for the children’s hospital months ago and the event was due to start at six p.m. in one of the palace function rooms that had been set up for the occasion. The auctioneers had been in residence all day, setting up the display items. Palace staff were on duty to take care of the catering, security was in place and there was no more work to be done beyond turning up, giving a speech and subtly persuading some of the region’s wealthiest inhabitants to part with some of their excess money. Moriana was good at hosting such events. Her mother had taught her well.

      Not that Moriana had ever managed to live up to those exacting standards when her mother was alive. It had taken years of dogged, determined practice to even reach her current level of competence.

      The principality of Arun wasn’t the wealthiest principality in the region. That honour went to Byzenmaach, ruled by Casimir, her former intended. It also wasn’t the prettiest. Theo’s Liesendaach was far prettier, embellished by centuries of rulers who’d built civic buildings and public spaces beyond compare. No, Arun’s claim to fame lay in its healthcare and education systems, and this was due in no small measure to her ceaseless work in those areas, and her mother’s and grandmother’s attention before that. Rigidly repressed the women of the royal house of Arun might be but they knew how to champion the needs of their people.

      Tonight would be an ordeal. The press had not been kind to her today and she’d tried to put that behind her and carry on as usual. The main problem being that no one else was carrying on as usual. Even Aury, her unflappable lady-in-waiting, had been casting anxious glances in Moriana’s direction all day.

      Moriana’s favourite treat, lemon tart with a burnt sugar top, had been waiting for her at morning tea, courtesy of the palace kitchens. A vase full of fat pink peonies had been sitting on her sideboard by lunchtime. She’d caught one of her publicity aides mid-rant on the phone—he’d been threatening to revoke someone’s palace press pass if they ran a certain headline, and he’d flushed when he’d seen her but he’d kept right on making threats until he’d got his way.

      There’d been a certain lack of newspapers in the palace this morning, which meant that Moriana had had to go online to read them.

      She should have stayed away.

      There was this game she and her lady-in-waiting often made out of the news of the day. While Aury styled Moriana’s hair for whatever function was on that evening, they’d shoot headlines back and forth. On a normal day it encouraged analysis and discussion.

      On a normal day the headlines wouldn’t be proclaiming Moriana the most undesirable princess on the planet.

      ‘Too Cold to Wed,’ Moriana said as Aury reached for the pins that would secure Moriana’s braid into an elegant roll at the base of her head.

      ‘No,’ said Aury, pointing a stern hairbrush in the direction of Moriana’s reflection. ‘I’m not doing this today and neither are you. I stopped reading them so I wouldn’t choke on my breakfast, and you should have stopped reading them too.’

      ‘Jilted Ice Princess Contemplates Nunnery,’ Moriana continued.

      ‘I’m not coming with you to the nunnery. They don’t care what hair looks like there, the heathens,’ said Aury, pushing a hairpin into place. ‘Okay, no, I will give you a headline. Byzenmaach Mourns as the Curse Strikes Again.’

      ‘Curse?’ Moriana had missed that one. ‘What curse?’

      ‘Apparently you refused to marry King Casimir in an attempt to avoid the same fate as his mother. Namely, being physically, mentally and verbally abused by your husband for years before taking a lover, giving birth to your lover’s child, seeing both killed by your husband and then committing suicide.’

      ‘Ouch.’

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