29 Proposals II (1/2)

”Let me get this out of the way, Prince…” the older woman began coldly as soon as the door of the private study closed. ”Because of who sent you – nay, because of who sired you – I do not relish having you here.” Queen Heloise had said all this while her back was to the young man who'd entered the room with her. Visibly impatient, she then sat on the chair behind her desk and, with only a nod at the chair that Lady Ilse had occupied earlier, added, ”Could this not have waited?”

As he sat, Leal let out a subtle, cynical sigh. With all the things his father had told him, the old man just had to leave out the fact that their neighbor's Queen hated his guts to the core – and, it seemed, Leal's by extension.

She'd been so calm and civil in public, not even an hour past. After he and the other Lyseans parted with the Queen's party outside the throne room, royal attendants had brought the guests to the suites that had been so openheartedly provided for their use. Once they were rested, cleaned up, and fed, the three older men had elected to return to the company that would welcome them back only a slight smidgen, but that was better than staying away and being branded as cowards and snobs instead.

Leal, however, had told them to make excuses for his absence. If the Queen was in the throne room, he told the Viscount to signal to her that Madelon's son wanted to talk. From the Royal Palace's layout that his father had let him see, he knew where her private study was located. When Queen Heloise arrived and saw him waiting outside it, Leal had witnessed firsthand how her temper had exploded behind her serene mask.

He would honestly not have been prepared to handle her sudden hostility if he had not already spent time with the monarch's younger sister. Blood will tell, as they say, which was probably the same reason the Queen was so openly distrustful of him.

Would Leal prove to be a true son to Madelon of Lys? He himself didn't expect so, but the woman before him didn't need to know that – for the time being.

”My apologies at the timing, Queen,” he answered her with a bland smile. ”I am afraid I couldn't be certain of my continued existence some hours from now. If you would prefer to continue this conversation later, I must first ask you to guarantee my protection and those of my countrymen – for the entire remaining duration of our stay.”

”Less than a day, I hope?”

”Queen Heloise, that would depend on your own wishes.”

The Queen leaned back in her chair, her gray eyes that looked frustratingly familiar to Leal narrowing for a moment. Then she nodded.

”I'll see what I can do about keeping you alive,” she said in a disinterested tone. ”But I am only a Queen, not a goddess. I hope your father understands he signed all your lives away when he ordered you to come here.” After a brief pause, she sat forward and stated, ”I'll listen to what Madelon has to say.”

Leal had been observing the room discreetly since the moment he stepped foot inside it, but now he swept it with a broad look. ”Can you vouch for this study's security?”

”Yes,” the Queen answered simply.

The young man lifted one shoulder in a shrug and spoke. ”My father has spies in the northern states,” he began without preamble. ”Of course, he has them here too, but you already knew that. Compared to here, the ones up north are a lot more reliable – or so he said. He wishes for me to tell you: he has the information you are looking for.”

Queen Heloise only stared at Leal for a long moment. Her expression was so cold, he imagined that the thoughts behind the unmoving mask couldn't be anything good.

When she finally responded, it was to ask, ”Do you also have it?”

”I do not, Queen,” replied Leal, smiling tightly. ”My King didn't tell me the details – that's how I knew he didn't truly want my death.”

The older woman sighed in disappointment.

”Perhaps he merely wanted to bargain with me badly,” she replied. ”Why would I need to deal with him, after all, if I could torture the information out of you?”

”Indeed, that makes better sense,” Leal conceded with a suave bow. ”Why waste all the ways you could make my death appear an accident while I'm here?”

The Queen smiled coldly. ”Enough of this,” she said. ”What does he want in exchange?”

Putting on a clueless expression. ”I only know I am here, Queen Heloise.” He shrugged again. ”A Prince of suitable marrying age.”

”A bit on the young side.”

”As you were when you married, if my memory serves.”

”Ah, boy,” she said, a slight look of condescension on her face. ”Female bodies have time limits when it comes to bearing children. Men have no such restrictions – and many times, their minds take longer to mature.”

Leal accepted the hit graciously. Dropping the bantering tone, he sounded as he normally did when he stated, ”My father would have had me married in the crib, if there'd been a good enough reason for him to do it.”