How to Catch a Queen (Runaway Royals #1) - Alyssa Cole Page 0,64
though they could go no higher. “Generally, when one engages in a contest of strength, the winner takes the prize, no? I asked to see Ms. Mohapti, you engaged me in ocular battle, and you lost. What is the confusion?”
Sanyu was trying to channel his father, but the situation was so absurd that he found himself chuckling. “I appreciate your dedication to the truth, but there is nothing to worry about. My wife is fine.”
She startled a bit, stood and bowed, then returned to her seat. “Forgive my rudeness, Your Highness, I was on the edge of victory when you entered the room and couldn’t properly greet you. But”—she crossed her legs again and leaned forward—“I’m not leaving without verifying the queen’s safety. Especially as inquiries have been made into three new potential brides on the site while safety verification and marital questionnaire requests were ignored. I can’t approve any further matchmaking inquiries without investigation.”
New potential brides? No one had discussed that with him. Then again, no one had discussed the first bride with him either.
Musoke stood, gripping the head of his cane. “Of all the audacious—! You enter our kingdom under false pretenses—”
“My pretenses were not false, sir. I said I was a cabbage vendor, and I intend to vend those cabbages as soon as I’m done here.”
“—illegally enter our palace—”
“Creatively enter.”
“—and now you think you can make demands? This is Njaza. We do not tolerate attempts at manipulation or subversion. We crush those who threaten our way of life. What will you say when you’re locked in our deepest dungeon and under investigation for espionage?”
Most people would have at least flinched from Musoke’s aggressive tone and stance, but Beznaria Chetchevaliere looked at him with a blank expression for a few seconds before calmly steepling her fingers.
“Terms and conditions.” She squinted and pursed her lips, studying first Musoke and then Sanyu.
“What nonsense is this woman on about?” Musoke sounded pained, and Sanyu believed he was. The rigid advisor was probably breaking out in hives while dealing with this strange investigator.
Ms. Chetchevaliere sighed. “I’m surprised that someone in the position of head advisor to a kingdom would not read the terms and conditions of a contract, but it’s a common human failing.”
The roar of laughter that almost escaped Sanyu’s mouth would have been entirely inappropriate, but the expression on Musoke’s face was something to behold.
“Terms and conditions? Speak sense, girl. I pay an annual fee for that app, the only condition is you provide matches suitable for a king.” Musoke tapped his cane as he often did, and Sanyu thought for the first time how if he ever did the same he would be called petulant or childish.
“Girl? I am thirty-three,” Ms. Chetchevaliere said. “And the terms and conditions that you lied about reading has a subsection concerning the urgent arrangement feature. For hasty marriages such as yours, there is a required check-in to ensure the health and safety of both parties. Yet all of my attempts to follow up on this have been ignored, and there’s been no public sighting of your queen since the wedding. I know you have a four-month marriage trial here, so the circumstances are slightly different for you, but that changes nothing for me. I will not leave until you have answered my marriage questionnaire and I have verified Ms. Mohapti’s safety.”
Sanyu crossed his arms and considered the woman as if she was touched by Nrij, a lesser Njazan chaos spirit. She hadn’t done anything threatening, but the resolve in her last sentence made it clear that she wasn’t afraid of Musoke, or of him.
“Everyone out,” he said to the guards.
“But, Your Highness . . .” Rafiq hesitated.
“You trained me yourself,” Sanyu said to him. “Do you think I cannot handle this?”
“Rafiq is correct to worry that you can’t handle me, but I am here on a peaceful mission, not a depose and dispose,” Ms. Chetchevaliere said blithely. Her expression was disarming, but her ramrod posture hinted at a military background and she had been found scaling the walls like a Drukian mountain goat.
Musoke tapped his cane a centimeter from Sanyu’s foot. “Don’t tell me you mean to indulge this. What kind of king allows a foreign woman to bring him to heel and threaten him in his own palace?”
Sanyu knew the answer that had been drilled into him over the years—a weak one.
Usually he would allow Musoke to have the guard see this woman to the border, despite wanting to talk to the