Princess, the highest-ranking woman in Kjall, should be one of fifteen.”
“By our laws, she would be his First Wife and thus of superior rank to any of them,” said Llinos in a tone of practiced patience that suggested he’d explained this to ignorant foreigners before. “Rhianne’s firstborn son would thus be First Heir to the First Heir.”
Janto struggled to hide his annoyance.
“However,” added Llinos, “since Mosar has suffered the most in this recent war, I move that she instead be married to King Jan-Torres.”
Everyone turned and looked expectantly at Janto. He opened his mouth as if to say something and closed it again. Rhianne folded her arms and glared at him.
“I second,” announced Admiral Durgan. “Let the princess be married to the king of Mosar.” He smiled. “That’s a majority, Jan-Torres. We don’t even need your vote!”
The delegates chuckled. Rhianne stared down at her lap, but he knew she was fuming. Lucien showed no emotion, not yet. He was waiting for Janto’s response.
Which was going to be . . . what?
He’d planned to vote against the arranged marriage, in accordance with Rhianne’s wishes. But he hadn’t expected to be outvoted before he even opened his mouth. Both Sardos and Riorca wanted the marriage to take place. Durgan was probably trying to cause mischief with the Kjallans, but Llinos’s vote was sincere. Could Janto throw his hands in the air and say it wasn’t his fault? He was outvoted.
No. Rhianne wasn’t going to accept that explanation.
She’d made a mistake when she’d turned him down. He was certain of it. She felt she didn’t know him and couldn’t trust him, but the man she’d fallen in love with, whom she’d trusted implicitly and offered her body to, was the real Janto. In time, given half a chance, he would prove that to her. A marriage would give him that time, that chance. Otherwise he would sail home to Mosar, and they might never see each other again. Should he not correct her mistake?
If he accepted the results of the vote, Rhianne would be his. Lucien would bluster, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Kjall had no fleet. Mosar would be untouchable to him for years, and by the time Lucien had rebuilt, Janto would have won Rhianne over. She would no longer want to return home.
Rhianne trembled in her chair, avoiding his eyes. Could she not understand? Her experiences with Florian and Augustan had left their scars, but Janto was not like them. He would not abuse her. She would be happy on Mosar. Wouldn’t she?
No. She’d run away from him, like she’d run from the others. Three gods, who was he kidding? If he forced her into this, she would never love him again.
“Respectfully, I must decline,” said Janto. When Durgan opened his mouth to protest, he held up his hand. “I’m outvoted, I know, but this is my life we’re talking about, and you two cannot vote me a wife, much as it may amuse you. While I greatly admire the Imperial Princess, I believe she does not desire this match.”
Kal turned to Janto, his eyebrows raised expressively. Janto shrugged in response.
Lucien spoke. “King Jan-Torres, I am glad someone in this room possesses some sense.”
Janto smiled wanly. He might have earned Lucien’s respect, but inside he cursed himself for a fool. Now he and Rhianne would never have a chance to reconcile. It might be years before he paid a diplomatic visit to Kjall, if he ever did. By that time, who knew? She might be married to someone else.
He looked up to see Rhianne’s eyes on him, warm and soft, and his breath caught in his throat. How long had it been since she’d looked at him like that? It wasn’t love, though; it was gratitude. Gratitude for removing himself from her life. What was he supposed to say?
“Since the Mosari king refuses the match,” said Llinos, “I move that Rhianne be married instead to Sardos’s First Heir.”
Durgan smiled. “Seconded.”
Llinos’s ruddy cheeks warmed. “Once again, Jan-Torres, we have no need of your vote.”
Janto started to protest, but Lucien leapt up. “This is outrageous! My cousin the Imperial Princess will not be bartered about like spices or salt cod! Kjall will exact its vengeance on any nation that attempts to take her by force.”
“With what fleet?” drawled Durgan.
“I must remind you, we will not always be without a fleet. And while our ground forces are far away, they remain strong. Furthermore,” said Lucien, “Rhianne is in no condition to marry at this time. She was previously betrothed, and her fiance was killed during the invasion. She is in mourning.”
Llinos shrugged. “It is no object. We are prepared to wait the length of the traditional Kjallan mourning period before the marriage takes place.”
“Admiral Llinos,” said Janto, “may I speak with you privately?”
The admiral locked eyes with him. “Certainly.”
Janto led him to a side room and closed the door. “You’re making a mistake.”
“No, I’m not,” said Llinos. “Lucien’s bluster is just that. Bluster. By the time he has a fleet capable of attacking Sardos, Rhianne will be fully invested in the Sardossian First Family, with children of her own. Kjall is not going to declare war on us. Marrying Rhianne into the First Family will make war
“Don’t be so certain. I think Durgan is trying to stir up trouble.”
“Of course he is,” said Llinos. “Can you blame him?”
“It’s more than just tweaking the Kjallans. Given that we’ve declined to help the Riorcans with their rebellion, what’s the most useful thing he can do in these peace talks?”
Llinos shrugged. “Sabotage them. Stir up trouble between Kjall and Sardos, or Kjall and Mosar. Both, if possible. But consider this. It doesn’t matter what Lucien signs or doesn’t sign in these negotiations. Once his ground troops arrive, our influence over him ends, and he can throw these peace accords in the compost heap.”
“Exactly!” said Janto. “We need his willing cooperation. We can’t antagonize him.”
“But if we take Rhianne, it gives us leverage. He doesn’t have the power to forcibly remove her, not yet. And by the time he does, she won’t want to leave. Everything we’re negotiating today, he may reverse himself on, but not this. It’s irreversible.”
“You’re assuming Rhianne will adapt to this marriage and come to enjoy her new life—that in the end, Lucien will not attempt to forcibly remove her because she’s happy on Sardos. But that’s not going to happen. Rhianne will fight you every step of the way. I know her.”
Llinos looked skeptical. “Hm.”
“She and her cousin have been confidants since childhood. I can easily see Lucien declaring war to recover her. It’s a serious insult to Kjall, one around which he can unite and rally his people.”
Llinos grumbled, his eyes going distant.
“Bringing back Rhianne as a wife for your First Heir may win you a promotion in the short term, but consider what may happen later on if that act leads to war with Kjall. You would be responsible for that war, Admiral.”
Llinos frowned. “Perhaps this marriage idea is more trouble than it’s worth.”
Janto nodded. “It is.”
They returned to the meeting room.
“I’ve changed my vote,” announced Llinos. “I withdraw my marriage proposal, out of respect for the lady.”
Rhianne looked at Janto with profound gratitude.
He managed a bitter half smile at her and turned to his clerk. “Is the paperwork ready for signing?”
“Yes, sire,” said Cialo. He handed Janto four copies of the freshly inked accords, which Janto passed around the table. Janto, Lucien, and Llinos each put quill to paper.
Admiral Durgan refused to sign.
