The Betrothed (The Betrothed 1)

Against the wall, a man was standing, arms crossed, shaking his head.

“It would shame the whole country,” someone muttered as they passed me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nora. Going against every instinct I’d had up until yesterday, I walked over to her, Delia Grace trailing like a shadow.

“Good morning, Lady Nora. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but some of those at court today are . . .” I couldn’t find a word for it.

“Yes,” she answered quietly. “It seems someone on our outing yesterday shared the story of our little battle. No one appears to be upset with me, but of course, I am not the king’s favorite.”

I swallowed. “But His Majesty has been moving from lady to lady this last year as if it were nothing. He can’t be planning to keep my company much longer, so what’s the problem?”

She made a face. “He took you out of the palace. He let you sit under the flag. As casual as you might think yesterday was, it was unique to all of his interactions with women to date.”

Oh.

“It’s the lords, isn’t it?” Delia Grace asked Nora. “The ones on the council?”

In their first civil interaction in all the years I’d known them both, Nora gave a quick and sympathetic nod.

“What does that mean?” I asked. “Why would the king even care what anyone thought?”

Delia Grace, who’d always been a quicker study at government and protocol, only half rolled her eyes at me. “The lords run their counties for the king. He is dependent upon them.”

“If the king wants peace in the outreaches of the land and expects taxes to be collected properly, he needs the lords on the council to handle it,” Nora added. “If the lords are unhappy with the way things are done, well, let’s just say they can become lazy at their jobs.”

Ah. So the king could lose both income and security if he made the foolish mistake of aligning himself with someone the lords didn’t like. Someone like a girl who fell into a river while flinging fruit at another girl, all while still in sight of the statue honoring one of the greatest queens the country had ever known.

For a split second, I was completely overcome by humiliation. I’d read far too much into Jameson’s words, into his attentions. I’d really thought that becoming queen might be a possibility.

But then I remembered: I’d always known I wouldn’t be queen.

Yes, it would be fun to be the wealthiest lady in all of Coroa, to have statues erected in my honor . . . but that wasn’t realistic, and surely Jameson was only moments away from being swept off his feet by another pretty smile. The best I could do was enjoy Jameson’s elaborate flirtations while they lasted.

Taking Nora’s hand, I faced her. “Thank you. Both for the bit of fun yesterday and your honesty today. I owe you.”

She smiled. “Crowning Day is in a few weeks. If you and the king are still attached, I assume you’ll choreograph a dance for him. If you do, let me be a part of it.”

Plenty of girls performed new dances for Crowning Day, hoping to gain favor by honoring the king. I supposed, if Jameson was still entertaining the idea of me then, I would be expected to have one ready. From what I remembered, Nora was pretty graceful. “I’ll want all the help I can get. You absolutely have a place.”

I motioned for Delia Grace to follow me once more. “Come. I need to thank the king.”

“Are you mad?” she whispered, aghast. “You’re not really going to let her dance with us, are you?”

I looked back at her, incredulous. “She just showed me great kindness. And she was more than polite to you. It’s just a dance, and she’s very light on her feet. It will make us all look better.”

“Her actions today can hardly make up for past wrongs,” Delia Grace insisted.

“We’re growing up,” I told her. “Things change.”

Her face said she wasn’t at all pacified by that answer, but she stayed silent as we made our way through the sea of people.

King Jameson was on the raised stone dais at the head of the Great Room. It was wide, built with room for a large royal family to occupy it, but it currently held only a single throne with two small seats on either side for whoever his most important guests were at the moment.

The Great Room was used for everything: receiving guests, balls, and even dinner each night. Along the eastern wall, the steps up to the gallery for the musicians were lined with tall windows that let in ample amounts of sunlight. But it was the western wall that drew my gaze each time I entered the room. Six stained-glass windows spanned the length, stretching from the height of my waist all the way to the ceiling. The windows depicted scenes from Coroan history in glorious illustration, cascading color and light throughout the room.

There was one window depicting Estus being crowned, and another of women dancing in a field. One of the original panes had been destroyed in a war, and it was replaced seamlessly with a scene of King Telau bending his knee to Queen Thenelope. It might have been my favorite of the six. I wasn’t entirely sure of her role in our history, but she was deserving enough to be immortalized in the room where all the important day-to-day living of the palace was done, and that alone was impressive.

While large tables were brought in and out for dinners, and people would come and go with seasons, the windows and the dais were always the same. I moved my eyes from the depictions of kings past to the one upon the throne now. I watched as he engaged in a deep discussion with one of his lords, but when the gold of my dress caught his eye, he turned for a second. Then, realizing it was me, he summarily dismissed the lord. I curtsied and approached the throne, welcomed by a set of warm and gracious hands.

“My Lady Hollis.” He shook his head. “You are the rising sun. Gorgeous.”

At those words all my resolve was undone. How could I be sure I meant nothing when he looked at me like that? I hadn’t watched him closely with the others; I didn’t think it was important at the time. But it felt completely unique, the way he moved his thumb back and forth on my hand, as if a single patch of skin wasn’t enough for him.

“Your Majesty is too generous,” I finally answered, ducking my head. “Not just with your words, but with your gifts. I wanted to thank you for the entire garden you sent to my room,” I said pointedly, to which he chuckled. “And I wanted you to know I was well.”

“Excellent. Then you must sit with me at dinner tonight.”

My stomach flipped. “Majesty?”

“As well as your parents, of course. I could use a change of company.”

I curtsied again. “As you wish.” I could see there were others waiting for his attention, so I quickly backed away, positively giddy. I reached out for Delia Grace’s hand, clutching her for support.

“You’re going to be set beside the king, Hollis,” she murmured.

“Yes.” The thought left me as breathless as if I’d run across the garden.

“And your parents as well. He hasn’t done that before.”

I gripped her hand even tighter. “I know. Shall . . . shall we go tell them?” I looked into Delia Grace’s all-seeing eyes, the ones that could read my simultaneous excitement and fear, the ones that saw I didn’t understand what was happening.