stronger chess piece go into their game. Istvan wanted to dominate Romania, probably the entire Eastern Bloc. He didn’t want me to be a subservient wife. He wanted me as their queen.
His love had all been a loan.
And it was time for me to pay back my debt.
Chapter 6
“The ceremony should be here.” Rebeka lifted her hand, motioning around the room. “How beautiful the wedding would be in this room.”
“No.” Lazar shook his head. “It should be in Bucharest. Our palace of parliament is much grander.”
“Larger in size doesn’t mean better.” Istvan took a sip of his drink. “This building is the jewel of Eastern Europe, renowned and envied around the world. By far more beautiful. We will have the wedding here.”
They continued to talk about my future and my wedding to the asshole who was staring blatantly at women’s breasts near our group.
I glared at the floor, my fingers clutching the flute in my hand so tightly the glass cracked in protest. Except for the throbbing pain from my heels, I was numb. I wanted nothing more than to slip out of the torturous shoes and let myself bleed away into the shadows. I doubted they would even notice.
My brain zipped around, trying to compute all that happened in a short time. Caden’s “almost” declaration had left me buzzing with possibility and excitement, but this untimely marriage proposal had shot me down from the sky, ripping away any hope and exhilaration I had. The bars of my gilded jail had been shrinking down on me so slowly, I didn’t notice until they crushed me.
“We have a lot to go over. Let’s meet after breakfast to go over the marriage contract. By then, the train should be in Prague.” Istvan’s words trickled into my head as the women discussed having two engagement parties, one in Bucharest and the other here.
“Prague?” Alexandru Lazar frowned, not looking pleased. “I hope you have extra security on it. I’ve heard Povstat is only getting bolder and stronger there.”
“Povstat is nothing more than what Sarkis’s army is here. Your own country has them. A bunch of thugs playing at a man’s game.”
Povstat the Rebels, and Sarkis the Protectors, were the most notable of the rebellion groups popping up, the ones fighting against both sides, gaining power with those in the middle ground between the pure fae and elite humans.
“They blew up two government buildings in the last two weeks there and four trains.”
“I have full confidence in my trained soldiers compared to some hooligans with overinflated confidence.” Istvan took a drink. “Now, can we get back to the union of your son and my daughter?”
Daughter?
My mind stopped on thoughts of my father and how different everything would be if he were still alive. I’d marry Sergiu a hundred times if it would bring him back. There wasn’t a day I didn’t miss him. His death was still an open wound. So many things I did now were for him, to make him proud. Although he was a tough, stern man with his troops, he had been fair and kind. He was the type you wanted to work harder to impress and to earn his esteem. I got to see his soft side, his kindness and warmth. I never questioned his love and pride in me. He defied his parents, falling in love with a woman they didn’t deem worthy of his stature. She was poor. They never married, keeping their love a secret. I didn’t even have a picture of her. Their love story was short, enough time for her to get pregnant and carry me to term, but fierce with passion. My Uncle Andris said my father was never the same after her death. Dad talked very little of her, but when he did, the reverence and love he felt for my mother was still obvious.
“Kicsim, your mother...she was so smart. I don’t think I ever had a chance at winning any battle when it came to her. She was strong, funny, and her beauty…she could drop me to my knees with a smile.” He brushed a piece of hair off my face. “You are so much like her. You have her black hair and eyes. You also have the same fierce nature. You don’t even realize how special you are. Never accept anything less than your worth.”
My father never moved on after her death, burning for her until his last breath.