The Consolation Prize (Brides of Karadok #3) - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,16
she told him. “I shall be ready to set forth when you are, Sir Armand.”
He blinked. “Princess,” he said heavily. “We need to talk.”
A look passed over her face, which if he had not known better he might have thought was stark terror. The color draining from her face, she walked over to a chair and sat down, folding her hands in her lap. Watching her, Armand wished to the gods he had his full faculties about him. Something seemed “off” to him, though he could not put his finger on what. Why would the princess be so scared of his reactions this morning?
Was she afraid of him? Guilt washed over him again as he faced the foggy memory of his wedding night. Had he been rough with her? At some point, he had been confused as to her identity. He hoped to gods he had not confused her willingness. He looked at her so hard his head ached but recalled frustratingly little. She swallowed and lifted her gaze to meet his.
“I am ready,” she said, and he could see her hands trembling even from where he stood.
He lowered himself onto the bed and sat facing her. He needed her to think this decision was as much her own, as his. It didn’t do to piss off royalty. Even disgraced royalty might have the King’s ear. “I apologize,” he said forthrightly. “But I think we need to be plain with one another.” He watched her fingers clutch as he considered how best to proceed.
“Sir Armand,” she said, swallowing convulsively again. “I am laboring under no illusions, I promise you. I am well aware that you did not—could not—have expected to win the prize yesterday.”
His brows snapped together at that. Clearly the princess did not have the most flattering views of his abilities. He was surprised to find that needled him, considering his livelihood depended on such misapprehensions. He took a steadying breath. “Well, no,” he agreed cautiously. “I can’t say as I did.”
She gave him a direct look. “Can we please be frank with one another?” she asked boldly.
Gods, that was the last thing he wanted! In his experience nothing good ever followed such words. Several unpleasant conversations with his father sprung to mind. He steeled himself for the worst and gave her a grim nod.
“Sir Armand,” she said with only the faintest tremor in her voice. “All I want or desire from you, is that you take me away from this court and give me the protection of your name. As for the rest of it, I promise I will make no demands on you. I care not if your estate is naught but a tumbledown hut, so long as I can be set down there, and left in peace to make it into my shelter. Into my home.”
His eyebrows rose at her speech. Though she was striving to make her voice calm and measured, the emotion underneath vibrated through her words. Peace and shelter? Not what he had been expecting to hear. For some reason, the words “tumbledown hut” also pricked some sense of family pride he had long thought was dead in his bosom.
“I’m a second son,” he answered cautiously. “But my family name is a venerable one. I do have some lands. There is a house my godfather left me.” He paused seeing the optimism that had flared in her eyes at his words. Clearly, it was more than she had dared hope for. He needed to extinguish that spark right now.
“Then—”
“Wait,” he said, raising a hand. “I am ill-prepared for this. I had not thought to take a wife, and the timing is not good for me to take a wife right now,” he started. Una’s face fell. “I have obligations and they don’t involve returning home right away—”
“But that’s absolutely not a problem,” Una assured him, an edge of desperation to her voice. “I am used to travel, indeed, I am used to uncomfortable quarters and being on the road.”
He halted at that, as the fact sunk in this was one obligation he was not going to be able to wriggle his way out of. It was all very well saying it was not convenient for him to take a wife, but the fact of the matter remained that he had taken one. And ultimately the King must not want her cluttering up his court, or he would not have married her off as a mere consolation prize.