“But will you hate me when one day you become King, and the country will expect you to stand on your own?” Ariane asked.
She didn’t want to point this out to Lucien. She didn’t want to try and convince him not to marry her—even if he had been arrogant when declaring their mutual feelings. What she wanted to do was squeal yes and laugh and cry and kiss him.
But if there came a day when Lucien did hate me…it would break my heart. I don’t want him to be miserable; I want him to be happy. He has so convinced himself he is lesser, I’m not sure he could stand revealing his cleverness.
Lucien sighed, though he did not drop her hands. “I see your worry, but it’s nothing. I’ll throw myself into the government with all possible enthusiasm if it means I get you in the bargain, Ariane.”
It took every ounce of Ariane’s will not to throw herself at her charming prince and hug him. This is all still too fast. He needs time to consider it. If his intentions remain the same afterwards, I will believe he has the will. But making a quick decision now risks pain for both of us in the future…But I don’t want to say no! I love him!
“What can I do to prove it to you?” Lucien asked.
His words dusted the cobwebs of worry from Ariane’s mind, and she smiled. Time will show the strength of our relationship, so let’s buy time. “Before you speak to your father or mother about marrying me, before you take any steps towards bringing me into your world, I want you to display your true brilliance.”
Lucien rolled his eyes. “Brilliance? Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?”
Ariane licked her lips as she recalled the many hours they spent in the Summit. “During the meeting sessions, it was remarked multiple times that there had to be something—or someone—that was the cause of all the chaos and seemingly random attacks—a unifying factor.”
“Yes?”
Ariane met Lucien’s gaze with her own. “I want you to find it.”
Lucien furrowed his brows. “You want me to figure out what exactly is behind all of this—when the joint mind of all the representatives could not?”
“Yes,” Ariane said simply.
Between the meetings and the realization that the Conclave was not as steady as it appeared to be, even a commoner like Ariane knew things were grim. Severin needed help, and Lucien needed time to think.
It was the perfect compromise.
Moreover, in her heart, Ariane knew that Lucien could help. He was intelligent in a way his brother was not. And just as every representative had brought something forth (Princess Astra of Baris offered her courage, the Ringsted representatives offered steadfastness, the Arcainian family knowledge), Ariane was positive Lucien could add something others could not. She couldn’t place her finger on what it was, but she truly believed that Loire—and the continent—needed him.
And if, after puzzling out the unifying factor, Lucien decided that despite their love he could not take the scrutiny, he would surely be able to convince everyone Severin had done it all.
Though I would be lying if I said I didn’t hope for the opposite.
Lucien’s brow was still furrowed as he looked at the ground.
Ariane—shaking a little—dared to place a hand on his chest and smooth a wrinkle in his shirt. “I’m not asking this of you because I wish to dissuade you, Lucien. You are right: I do love you. That is the reason for my request. I want you to succeed. I merely want you to see if this future is something you will truly be comfortable with.”
Lucien studied her with heart-stopping intensity. Ariane had thought she detected intelligence in his frog eyes, but it was far stronger as he stared at her as a man, his narrowed eyes and the thoughtful slant of his mouth making the impression even stronger.
He nodded once. “Very well.”
“You’ll do it?”
Lucien snorted. “Of course. Do you really think I would give you up over such a small thing?” He briefly rested his forehead against hers. Then, before Ariane could protest, he kissed her on the cheek, purposely aiming so his lips touched the corner of her mouth. “I’m afraid to say, though, you won’t see me much until I conquer this task. I don’t intend to let this drag on.”
Ariane laughed. “I see.” She placed her hands on his cheeks—both in affection and to keep him from kissing her again. If I let him really kiss me, I just might take back my little test, and I can’t let that happen! “You will do well, Lucien. I know it.”
Lucien peeled one of her hands off his cheek and kissed it, pressing his lips to her fingers until Ariane felt herself turning beet red and tugged her hand from his grip.
Lucien laughed, then turned around and hurried back towards Chanceux. “Remember—you promised,” he shouted over his shoulder.
When he disappeared from the gardens, Ariane dazedly wandered over to a stone bench and plopped down on it.
“Well,” she said. I guess all I can do now is hope.
Lucien strode down the hallway that led to Severin’s personal study, mentally calculating what Rangers were available, and what books and additional materials he needed.
“Your Highness,” Henry said, appearing from the shadows.
Lucien glanced at his valet. “Did you need something, Henry?”
“Your brother has hopes that since Mademoiselle Ariane has woken, you will join the representatives in the Summit,” Henry said.
“Not a chance,” Lucien said. He expected some sarcastic comment—Henry excelled in being passive-aggressive—and was not wholly disappointed.
“You are setting an unusually fast pace. Is there a tailor you are anxious to see?”
Lucien released a bark of laughter. “No. I’m merely in a hurry for the foreseeable future. Summon Farand and send him to Severin’s study immediately,” Lucien said, naming the leader of his Rangers.
“Is something the matter, Your Highness?” Henry asked.
“No, I merely have a task to puzzle through.”
“I see. I will call for tea, then. Or perhaps something stronger?”
“Tea is fine, thanks.” Lucien glanced at him when the valet nearly walked into a suit of armor. “War wound bothering you?”
“It is merely that I have never heard you turn down liquor. Are you certain you aren’t experiencing any side effects from your time as a frog?” Henry asked with the seriousness of a sword.
Lucien chuckled. “I’m fine, but your concern is noted. Farand, now. Thank you.”
Henry bowed, then turned on his heels and set off in the opposite direction as Lucien marched on towards Severin’s study.
In his late-night musings after the Summit meetings, a rather odd observation had occurred to Lucien: though all the countries had used their extensive intelligence networks, not one—Lucien’s Rangers among them—had caught even a whisper of whatever was uniting the forces that so greatly opposed everyone.
Rulers always knew who their enemies were—or they should if they were at all smart.