“Maybe she would attract more suitors that way.” The hallway we were walking down started to tilt sideways as I squinted my eyes to find my room. I was buzzed from too much wine and just wanted to collapse on my bed and sleep.
“Why, Garrett, that was simply unruly! You are lucky we are such good acquaintances.” I eyed her, and she giggled. “Oh, why can’t you accept how lovely a couple we’d be.”
“I don’t want to be a couple.”
She sighed heavily. “You aren’t a spring chicken anymore. You’re a man of position. You need a wife and heirs.”
“I’m a man that can make my own choices.” I yanked my arm away from hers, wishing I had something else to help me with my balance. I would rather drink myself dead than be married to her. This cat and mouse game was getting old, and I didn’t like being the prey.
“Are you now? There is talk about us marrying.” I didn’t respond. “My father and yours have been discussing our possible union of marriage.”
I tsked, pointing my finger at her. “I would’ve had to agree to that.”
“Which you will.” She eased closer to me as we turned a corner. Her arm brushed against mine, which made me jolt away from her. I never knew that being so repulsed by a woman was humanly possible.
I rubbed my temple with my fingers, feeling a headache coming on. “And why would I do that, Sophia?” She obviously thought too much of herself, and Father and I hadn’t finalized this fucked up plan of his. I wasn’t doing shit that I hadn’t agreed on yet, and she was the worst bluffer I’d ever heard.
A slow grin appeared on her face, as she took in the paintings of landscapes on the walls. She kept pace with me, keeping silent as though she was thinking of something I wasn’t aware of. Something she knew would annoy the living shit out of me.
“Well?” I snapped, breaking the silence between us. “Are you going to speak, or do I get to guess?”
Sophia glanced up at me, her brown eyes, too big for her face, looking guiltless at me. We both knew that was far from true. She was as cunning as she was persistent.
“You will agree to marry me,” she murmured, looking down at the floor, before she halted in her steps to gain my full attention. Reluctantly, I turn myself around, my curiosity now getting the better of me. She dragged her gaze up my body and stopped when we were eye to eye. “Because, my dear, you wouldn’t let your sister be put into an arranged marriage to tighten ties with powerful families, would you?”
I squinted my eyes at her. This was ridiculous. He and I had talked about this; well, I more so told him Hara wasn’t to be pawned off. I would buy time, come up with another solution, make Father happy, and be on my merry way. My father wouldn’t be bullied either by a judge nor be told what to do, so this was gibberish that she was spilling. He knew how I was, and we had an understanding to agree to disagree. It was how our relationship worked.
“My father would never do that,” I replied flatly. “She’s only sixteen.”
Her grinned widened. “He did it to Ava Barlow.”
Shit.
∞∞∞
I slammed my father’s study door, as I stumbled to find my footing in the room. “I thought I told you no!” I bellowed, as I pointed a finger at him.
He looked over his book and raised his eyebrows. “Weren’t you going to bed?”
“That was my fucking plan! But my plan also didn’t include Sophia Chitwood telling me that you planned on pawning off my younger sister!” I wobbled over to the drink cart, focusing hard on it, to grab a bottle of whatever expensive liquor Father had.
“You better pour me a glass as well.” He set his book down on a side table. “This is probably going to be a long, grueling talk.”
“I assure you, it won’t be that long because you can’t force either of us into a position we don’t want.” The cool bottle of, I think brandy, prickled my heated skin. I sloshed the brandy around, finally getting it into a glass.
“We’ve spoken about this,” he drawled. “I’ve already explained to you my reasoning behind the agreement.” I shuffled over to my father; his glass in one hand, the bottle for me, in the other.
“I think I’ve made myself clear,” I gritted, handing him his glass. “She is the worst kind of woman. She is manipulative and cruel. She is for her own personal gain and wouldn’t be a good mother to any children I would have. I don’t trust her.”
Father exhaled a breath loudly. “You don’t trust anyone, Garrett. Not since these horrendous events have happened.” He moved his hand around in the air. “You used to be a carefree lad. Now you’re cynical and—”
I rounded on him. “You and George are still alive, aren’t you?! I’m keeping you and everyone safe. Even that ruthless wife of yours.”
He darted his eyes at me, his voice menacing. “Watch your tongue, son. I won’t start that argument with you again.”
“No, we won’t.” I began to pace. “Because I won’t be staying long in this room. Sophia is just like Cecilia. I won’t be on a leash in a marriage.”
He immediately stood from his chair, his jaw tightened. “And you are saying I am?”
“You let that woman terrorize the servants, and me.” I held my ground, standing in front of him. “Spending loads of money on frivolous things, and being utterly and unnecessarily rude to Ava.”
Father scowled. “Ava is protected under me.”
I laughed bitterly, taking a large gulp of brandy straight from the bottle. Lowering it slowly from my mouth, I shot back, “And she is protected by me and my men.”
“You can’t marry her, Garrett.”
I froze, turning to face him. Looking down at the bottle in my hand, I wondered if I heard him right. What did protecting her have anything to do marrying? A little befuddled, I tugged on my earlobe, trying to focus on the veering conversation. I pondered the differences of the two women. They were night and day, brandy to water, land to the ocean. Red hair to blonde, my attention pivoted to Ava. Beautiful, smart and—stop. A smartass, yes, beautiful, yes; there wasn’t any denying that Ava Barlow was one of the most captivating females I had ever laid eyes on.
From her memorizing green eyes to her soft skin, she was untouchable to me. I wasn’t getting married anytime soon, wasn’t going to stay in Telliva, and sure as hell not going to court someone with flowers and gifts.
“Garrett.” My father’s voice penetrated through the silent room.
“What?”
“I see how you look at her.” His words were softer this time. “How you build armies to protect her.”
My forehead creased. “And that means I want to marry her?”
He shrugged, sitting back in his chair. “You must have some sort of feelings toward her.”
I raked my hand through my hair. “She needed to be protected. Your army wasn’t getting the job done.”
Father slammed his glass on the table with a clink, his brandy spilling out onto the table. “Keep it up with that tongue of yours! I have traitors in my midst while you get to start a band of bandits from scratch, under your fine-tooth comb. I have hundreds of men; you have eight.”
“And counting,” I sneered.
“If you oppose my offer with Sophia, Hara will take your spot.”
My stomach dropped, all the air leaving my lungs. My hands started to shake as I looked at the man who called himself my father, wanting to strangle the life from him. “You can’t do—”
“I can do whatever I wish with her! I’m her father; she is a young girl.” He focused on me, his eyes tightening, like he was reading my mind. “Aruna regime can’t keep her from me.”
I threw my bottle, the glass breaking against something, as I took a step toward him. “She is your daughter! You’ve seen what happened to Ava. Hara will be a target. She is impressionable and dreams of love.”
“She can’t live in a world of naivety forever. She will learn what it is to live within her birthright. She is a daughter of a king; there are responsibilities to that.”
“And you’d force her into a marriage with whom?”
“King Lou Defour.”
“King Lou Defour?”