“Beg your pardon?” Malcolm asked, thinking he must have heard him wrong.
“I am giving you the choice,” his father said. “We have upheld tradition throughout our bloodline and have never looked beyond the highborn, even when perhaps we should have. Your grandmother was not a kind woman, and your grandfather made a poor choice when he bound himself to her, but she was only unkind because she was as miserable as he was. Had the bond never been formed they could both have lived happier lives, I’ve no doubt of it. I vowed never to force you into a conventional mating bond if I could help it, and if not now, then when?
“You must make a choice, Malcolm. And you must understand that the choice you make is not only affecting you and your future, but the future of your mate as well. And, through your union, the future of all of your subjects too. It is not a choice to be made lightly. It is not a choice to be based on a lack of consideration. You understand? You must look to your hearts, but you must also use your head. This way you will secure your happiness, her happiness, and the happiness of your kingdom all in one fell swoop.”
Malcolm’s insides had turned to ice. He felt frozen to the spot at the mere thought of making such a choice. The weight he had been accepting now seemed crushing. Not just his happiness, but hers, and the happiness of the entire kingdom.
Of course, his father was right, and the simplicity with which Malcolm had thought he could pick the lady that should wear the title of a queen was seeping out of him as though it was grains of sand in an hourglass.
His first thought was of Lady Shannon as the question came to him of how certain he was that she would make a true mate. She was beautiful and she possessed all the characteristics that a truly noble woman should, but in his hearts of hearts, did the idea of being around her for extended periods of time thrill him as much as the thought of having her in his bed did? Was that fair of him to either of them?
His second thought went to Iona, but an emotion rose in his chest that was both overwhelming and dreadful and he couldn’t examine it in front of his father. So, he pushed it back down and busied himself with picking an olive off one of the platters.
“Might you already have someone in mind?” his father asked, much too casually for the question to not sound pointed.
“Perhaps,” Malcolm replied, leaving the olive as he lacked the appetite.
“Do you find the trial a fair one?” the king inquired.
“Yes, father,” Malcolm said. “It is the trial you have chosen and so it is fair,” he added with a smile that set his father at ease. “I must go change for dinner,” he excused himself.
But what he really had to do was find Iona. He left his father’s chambers for the hallway taking him back to the throne room, the great hall, the paths Iona was sure to tread. Halfway to the kitchens his feet began to slow, and he found himself heading for his rooms instead.
What was he meant to say to her? He hadn’t been able to speak to her on this matter before, why should he be able to start now? The words were like a ball of yarn in the middle of his throat, and he feared that tugging on it even for a moment would have them all spill out of him to possibly disastrous effect.
It was better to leave it.
Lady Shannon was the wise choice, surely Iona would do nothing but agree with him on that. The thought brought him some peace and all he had left to face was the daunting task of her remaining aloof for the rest of the afternoon, leaving him to ready himself for dinner all by himself.
He needn’t have doubted that she’d be there.
Thirty minutes later, having given up his search, he walked through the door of his bedroom to find her shaking out his most elaborate cloak. A smile split his face at the sight of her, even though the words out of his mouth were hard with an accusation as he demanded, “Where have you been?”
Chapter 4 - Iona
Iona felt her smile stiffen into a frown at his bad temper. “I was with my father,” she said. “We needed fresh meat for dinner tomorrow, and I had to go make absolutely certain the lambs weren’t weened. Makes for a more supple cut, apparently.”
She shrugged, then paused as he seemed to have trouble keeping his eyes on hers.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “I thought you’d be bouncing off the walls, having Ewan back. How long has it been since we saw him last?”
Malcolm paused, glanced at her, seemed to want to say something but then shied away again, walking up to the wooden mannequin that was wearing the outfit she had chosen for him. The dark blue fabric breathed a bit better than the velvet of the cloak he would have to drape over his shoulders, but he would only have to wear it for the mingle in the great hall. Once everyone headed into the dining hall, he could remove it at his leisure. The compromise was better than dressing him from head to toe in velvet; she was sure he would agree. They were suffering a heatwave and there was no point in pretending otherwise. Silk would have to do, even though velvet was customary for bigger functions.
He seemed appreciative, but still wouldn’t look at her.
“Mal?” she prompted.
“My father just presented me with my first and last trial,” he said.
Her hearts went cold with misgivings. What would it be? To leave for years on end to be trained to be a proper warrior? Malcolm was the strongest swordsman on this side of the four kingdoms, but the kingdom had four sides so what was to say he would fare as well as he did in the training circle if he was up against the most ruthless killers that war could produce? Not that there would be war.
“Oh,” was all she could get out.
It wasn’t even a question, merely a noise.
He looked as though he understood it. As though it encapsulated how he was feeling. Perhaps the trial was to go across the waters, to explore the silver sands, or the towering mountains of Andramilla. To use his connection with his bloodline's magic and look for water where there was said to be so little. She barely felt that she wanted to know.
“I’m to choose a mate,” he then stated, and his eyes were in hers, making her lose her breath for inexplicable reasons.
