My cane clicks on the black and white tiles as I make my way along the hall to the living room.

The Duke and Duchess greet me politely, though they’re not overly generous with their smiles. Behind them, Sachelle beams at me, as she does every time she sees me these days. My smile for her is full of love, and I don’t care that her parents see it and glower.

The shock of finding out his daughter confronted and shot a terrorist didn’t kill the Duke. Having me as a son-in-law should be far easier to hear.

But then, it’s not my daughter I’m handing over to a man like me.

“Mr. Rasmussen,” the Duke says, without any pleasure. He seems to cast about for something neutral to say, and his eyes land on the newspaper on the coffee table. “What do you make of all these changes?”

Sachelle sits down next to her parents, hands clasped in her lap and ankles crossed neatly. On her best behavior, I notice.

The headline on the newspaper reads, SWEEPING CHANGES TO LAW AND ORDER IN PARAVEL. It’s an article about the laws and institutions of Paravel being brought into line with other Western democracies. Less of the ominous paramilitary feel of Varga and King Gregor’s Paravel, and more openness and accountability. Protesting is being decriminalized and freedom of speech has been written into the new constitution.

“It’s good news,” I tell him.

The Duke’s mouth twists in disapproval. “That’s generous, considering you’ve lost your job.”

“But Paravel has gained a lot more.”

Sachelle jumps in. “It’s wonderful that everyone’s talking about this and isn’t blaming the King for things that his parents did when they ruled Paravel.”

The papers printed copies of the palace memos the previous week. King Anson was ready with a statement that he was saddened by what the memos contained, but believed them to be true and encouraged people to look candidly at the past rather than ignore it.

The room falls silent. Sachelle glances at her scowling parents and shoots me an agonized look. I may as well just come out with it. They can’t be any more annoyed than they are right now.

“Your Graces, I’m going to ask Sachelle to marry me.”

“I thought you already had,” snaps the Duchess.

Asked her. Told her. Apparently that’s not the same thing. “It’s, ah, complicated. I thought I’d ask her again, just to be sure.”

Sachelle’s mouth twitches.

The Duke shakes his head. “Archduke Levanter won’t allow it.”

I reach inside my jacket and spread the marriage license out on the coffee table. Levanter’s signature is prominent on the paper. “He has, and with the King’s blessing.”

The Duke and Duchess both stare at the document in silence. Sachelle’s eyes are glued to her father’s face, searching for any sign that he might collapse.

“Mum, Dad, you know this is what I want. Can’t you please be happy for us?”

The Duke shakes his head. “So much change, lately. Too much.”

Sachelle’s eyes fill with tears, and her face with anguish. “Do you suppose I could marry someone better than Jakob Rasmussen? Who could be worthier than the man who worked tirelessly to put us all back in this house? We’re the ones who don’t deserve him.”

They both remain silent.

Sachelle says tearfully, “Dad, I was hoping you’d walk me down the aisle.”

The Duke flinches, but when he recovers his expression has softened. “He might have the King’s blessing, but he doesn’t have a job.”

Sachelle laughs as she wipes the tears from her face. “Dad, don’t be silly. Who do you think the new Police Commissioner is? Jakob works for the government now.” She shoots me a guilty look. We haven’t told anyone about this yet.

I just smile at her, marveling that not long ago the Duke’s disapproval might have sent me into a barely controlled rage. I feel perfectly calm as I watch him and the Duchess resent me being their son-in-law. I’m marrying their daughter, whether they like it or not, though for Sachelle’s sake, I’d rather they gave their blessing, too.

When it’s clear they’re not going to give it, I stand up and hold out my hand to Sachelle, helping her to her feet and wiping the tears from her cheeks.

“Sorry for telling your secret about the job. I know it hasn’t been announced.”

“It’s all right, little fox,” I murmur. “I know it’s because you’re happy for me.”

Sachelle wraps her arms around my waist. “I am. I’m so happy for you. You deserve this, and I know you’ll do a wonderful job.”

It’ll be strange, working for an organization and being answerable to the government instead of King Anson.

“You’ve changed, Mr. Rasmussen,” Duchess Balzac announces suddenly.

I look up from stroking Sachelle’s cheek. “Have I?”

“Being trapped in a burning building seems to have softened you up. I thought it would have only hardened you further.”

“Perhaps it refocused my priorities.” I take Sachelle’s hand in mine and face them both. “We want you both at the wedding, please. It would mean so much to Sachelle.”

Tags: Brianna Hale Erotic
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