‘You cannot simply walk away from this.’
‘Please, Your Majesty...’ Carissa tried a different tack.
A tall woman with straw-light hair, cut sharply along her jaw, impeccably clad in a dark tailored suit, she took the chair angled towards his and spoke to him in a tone he assumed must work wonders in getting anyone to do as she bid. But no amount of charm or authority would work on him. Not now.
‘Just listen,’ she said. ‘And then we can decide on a way forward that works for everyone.’
Vasili huffed. ‘For everyone?’
‘Of course, sir. We’re in a tough situation and we all want to do what’s best,’ Carissa said.
‘She’s right,’ a still-scowling Andreas agreed. ‘It’s imperative that you listen to us. You have to marry and produce heirs. King Leander didn’t do so quickly enough, and now the crown sits in a precarious position.’
Vasili tilted his head, studying the private secretary. ‘Let me guess...it’s my duty to save the monarchy?’
‘Of course it is. Thalonia needs its king,’ Andreas replied.
Vasili shook his head. Saving the system he had rebelled against his whole life—the very thing responsible for him being cast aside—was the last thing he wanted to do.
He was sorely tempted to let it all fall to ruin. One family didn’t make an entire kingdom. Besides, he hadn’t been enough at any point in his life before, so why should he be now? Vasili believed he was the very last person who should ever marry. He didn’t want marriage. Commitment wasn’t something he had ever considered. He much preferred losing himself in a beautiful woman who understood his needs. Knew that it was only for a night. That there would never be a future with him.
He was trying to escape the cage, not invite others to join him in it.
His mother had once called him a Lothario and Vasili would much rather wear that title than the title of King.
‘Clearly not just a king,’ Vasili all but growled.
Carissa cut Andreas off before he could utter whatever was brewing on his tongue. ‘We understand your trepidation, sir—’
‘I doubt that.’
She continued as if the new King had not interrupted her. ‘But we are here to help you take on this task. You can lean on us, and we can guide you through these changes.’
How weak did these people think he was? With their pretty words that blatantly told him they would try to control him.
‘And one such change is your lifestyle,’ Andreas chipped in. ‘Not just because it is unbecoming behaviour for the King, but because it would also be highly inappropriate when you wed.’
When?It had gone from something Vasilishoulddo to an inevitability. As if his choices, his life, didn’t matter.
‘We can help you find an appropriate bride.’
‘What?’
Fire exploded in his veins. Andreas’s eyes widened at his low, icy tone. Anger burned through his grief, igniting every rebellious urge he had ever had. He wouldn’t be controlled. Wouldn’t be dictated to. If the old King and Queen hadn’t been able to control him, what made these people think that they could?
Marriage and children had never been on his radar, but if they wanted him to get married so badly it wouldn’t be to someone they deemed ‘appropriate’. Some generic royal who would be as selfish and self-obsessed as all the rest. No. He would do things on his own terms, exactly as he lived his life. Vasili couldn’t care less what Andreas and Carissa wanted. To him they represented all that was wrong with the entire institution of royalty.
Feeling every bit the recalcitrant prince he was known to be, Vasili once again rebelled against the system that he could never escape. He looked over their heads, defiance etched in every line on his face, and with teeth bared he ground out, ‘Fine. I’ll marryher.’
Both royal secretaries turned around in unison, to glance in the direction of the new King’s gaze, and found the librarian staring wide-eyed at the three of them, clearly having overheard the entire conversation.
‘Your Majesty...’ Andreas whipped back around, his face a mix of horror and frustration. ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘Andreas is right. You can’t marry the librarian. She isn’t an appropriate queen for the Kingdom,’ Carissa tried to reason with him.
Vasili stared hard at the communications secretary. ‘And just who would be an appropriate queen, exactly?’
‘You need to marry a noble. It’s tradition. Every consort in our history has been a royal in their own right. It projects the right image. Of strength and endurance. Please, you have to think of the throne.’
