The Prince's Bride Part 2 - J.J. McAvoy Page 0,37

Have you, or have you not?”

He glanced at my mother, but she merely lifted her teacup to her lips, so he returned his gaze to me. “One shall be released because all royal marriages are also matters of the state. Which is why each marriage should be considered and discussed to avoid any ramifications this may have on the people.”

“Ramifications? And what ramifications might a wedding cost? Last I checked, they bring in hundreds of millions into the economy,” I asked politely.

He lifted his chin as if he were speaking down to a child. “I am not merely speaking on the economic one, Adelaar. As you may know, over the last few years, this country has been overrun by a multitude of dissimilar people with dissimilar cultures, attitudes, and beliefs to those that are quintessential to Ersovia. True Ersovians are waking in neighborhoods they have lived in all their lives, some for generations, only to see that it no longer looks as they remember. They see less of themselves in this nation, and they look to the monarchy to see that again.”

“Is that so?” I gasped, pretending to be shocked. “As you are so popular with the people and so educated on their thoughts and wants, please do inform them that we are the same monarchy we were yesterday only with one new addition.”

“And when she provides another new addition?” His voice was stern, lifeless, and dismayed.

My teeth began to grind together as I understood what he was implying, and he opened his mouth to spew more nonsense. “Most importantly, her addition would not be just any new addition but one who shall be a monarch after you. Will the majority of people still see themselves then?”

“They. Will. Have. To,” I said slowly.

“Or—”

“There is no or, Mr. Prime Minister. What is done, is done,” I said as calmly as I could

However, he only gripped his cane. “When I was a boy, Adelaar, I learned that it is better to admit one’s mistake and work to overcome it than disgrace one’s ancestors by continuing.”

“How funny. When I was also a boy, I learned it is better to say nothing at all than to say something that would disgrace one’s descendants, but I guess the education of nobles is still different. You must forgive me for my ignorance,” I replied, reveling in the crack of his façade as rage flashed in his eyes.

“Thank you for stopping by, Mr. Prime Minister,” my mother said, rising from her chair, causing us both to stand as well. “We await the statement from Trinity Row.”

“Your Majesty,” he said, kissing her hand. “Adelaar.” He bowed to me before taking two steps back, then turning to leave.

It was only when he left that I let out the breath I was holding. “Well, that went well. I am sure he will not cause any trouble for us now. What do you think, Mother? Can Odette and I ride off into the sunset yet? What an insufferable human being!”

“I was hoping you would restrain yourself. Instead, you reverted to immaturity!” She turned and hollered at me.

“In what way could I have been mature as he insulted us, Mother. Did you not hear him? He came to—”

“He came to voice a concern that people will have, and no matter how irrational, unjustified, or ignorant it may be, we must respect that, remember? You said it.”

I clenched my jaw. “And what would you have had me say, Mother? ‘Yes, I see your point, Prime Minister. Let us fix this mistake?’ He wishes for the monarchy to conform to his political ideology. That is not our role. As you just said, we are above it.”

“Do not use my words against me,” she snapped, but apparently, she could use mine against me.

“Fine, I will use Father’s. He has always said prime ministers come and go. Ideologies rise and fall. We are constant. That does not change based on what we look like.”

She frowned, her whole face falling. “Gale, tread carefully. It is never wise to be at odds with our government, and it even less wise to poke a wounded dog. Hermenegild, like all illegitimate nobility in this country, is torn between his desire to belong and his desire to burn the nobility to the ground.”

And I was the immature one? Because his father did not love him enough to legitimize him, the rest of the country had to?

“How I detest that look,” she said, her eyes roaming my face.

“What look?”

“The Monterey stubborn-mule look.

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