I swallowed my soup. “How does he fare?”
“Oh, still feverish, but the physician vows he’ll make a full recovery. I intend to visit him again after lunch. I want to be the first face he sees when he wakes.” This last bit was a breathy sigh from her lips.
My chest pinched tight. “I am relieved he’s on the mend.” And I was. That was the only thing that mattered—not my petty emotions. Fowler would live.
Now I could escape this place.
“Princess Luna.” The king’s voice boomed across the table, claiming my attention. “Cullan has replied to our message this very morning.”
I startled a bit at this pronouncement. He wasted little time. Something loosened and unfurled inside me. King Tebald had accomplished what would have taken me weeks, perhaps longer to accomplish. Perhaps I never would have done it.
I nodded once, decisive, consoled. It was done, then. Cullan knew I was alive. He knew that even though he had killed my parents, he had not destroyed everything about them.
“Already?” a voice I recognized as Frand asked.
The king chuckled. “I imagine he did not want to prolong his response. My message probably put him in a state.”
“Indeed, Your Majesty,” the bishop agreed. The word hung, bloated with meaning. He wanted to say more, wanted to convey his disapproval, but knew better after the last time the king had sent him from the room with his tail tucked between his legs.
I cleared my throat. “Your Majesty, might I ask how he responded?”
“As expected. He claims you are an imposter and demands your head.” Chasan tensed beside me and I turned slightly toward him, curious at his manner. A hushed silence descended on the table, awaiting the king’s next statement. “He also demands the return of his son.”
I swallowed and moistened my lips. “He wants Fowler back?”
“Naturally. You, the true heir to Relhok and the”—he paused as if searching for the proper word—“disputed heir.”
Disputed? Fowler’s position was now disputed? Because of me? It shouldn’t have been a surprise, but I hadn’t thought about it.
“Now he can no longer lie to me and put me off when I press for him to produce his son to wed my daughter. If in fact that is what I still wish to happen.”
If. Maris released a tiny gasp beside me. I exhaled. He might not wish for his daughter to marry Maris anymore? Because he had me. What did that mean for Fowler? Specifically, what did that mean for his safety here? His position?
I shook my head. No. I couldn’t worry about him any longer. I was escaping. And once I was gone, Fowler would become a commodity yet again. Perhaps me disappearing was more important than ever.
“What will you do, Father?” Chasan asked.
“Nothing,” the king said simply, slurping at the soup from his bowl.
“Nothing, Your Majesty?” the bishop asked carefully. “You will not reply to him?”
“Oh, eventually. I shall make him wait as he has made me wait all these years. I shall enjoy that. It’s my turn now to let him writhe on the line that I hold.”
“Eventually,” Chasan said, echoing him, “what will you then reply?”
It was vexing, waiting on this man’s word. He held all the power while we waited on his whims. My knuckles ached from clenching my spoon.
“I think that when I next contact him, it shall be to invite him to the wedding,” the king said cheerfully, pausing to gulp from his drink. “Two weddings, perhaps. It’s unlikely that he will come, but who knows? Travel is fraught with danger but not impossible.”
“Two?” I echoed, a sense of foreboding sweeping through me.
“Yes. It shall be a notable year in the history of Lagonia. Two weddings. Two celebrations after years of so much . . . unpleasantness. Something bright in all this darkness. A ray of hope for all.”
“Who is getting married?” Chasan asked, and there was something in his voice, something that echoed the bewilderment that swept through me.
“I suppose the marriage of Maris to Prince Fowler is long overdue.” Tebald sighed, clearly not thrilled about the idea, but at least he hadn’t totally dismissed Fowler. As much as the idea of him married to Maris flustered me, I was relieved to know that he wasn’t in danger.
“Even if it’s no longer a necessity, it might be a wise precaution. Just to help solidify our ties to Relhok so that our claim will never be threatened under any eventuality.”
Even though I knew this was happening—ever since Maris opened her mouth to me about waiting her entire life for Fowler I knew it could happen—it hurt.
“And the other wedding?” Chasan asked. “You mentioned two?”
“Yes.” The bishop spat out the words. “What, pray, second wedding could you mean?”