“Neither option has been ticked, struck out, or anything else,” Sigmund said, checking the scroll.
“Which would suggest that my intended hasn’t considered that I might have an opinion about his behavior, both with me and when he’s with others. How extremely lax of him.” Winter waggled his eyebrows, causing his team to laugh, before turningto Pippin. “What do we know about the crown prince’s dating habits? The man is in his thirties, isn’t he?”
“Thirty-five, sire,” Pippin said. “I did reach out to our friend Lady Julia at the World Council at first light for any information she might have, and she sent a reply via crystal radio.”
“Good thinking.” Winter nodded. Lady Julia was a long time friend who knew everything worth knowing about any royal family in the known world. “Did she feel our match might be a good one?”
Pippin wrinkled his nose. “I’m not sure, sire. She said to wish you luck.”
“That’s not ominous at all.” August chuckled.
Lady Julia was an excellent judge of character, so her good luck wishes, likely made in jest, did make Winter pause. “What did she say about his dating habits?” he asked again. “Crown Prince Rupert has to have had some liaisons in the last fifteen years or so.”
“He’s had some unlucky courtships,” Pippin said slowly. “His infatuation with King Consort Jaq was just his latest attempt at securing a marriage with someone small, compliant, and someone who wasn’t keen on being seen in many social situations. He had shown previous interest in Prince Remy and Prince Syrius, although Lady Julia said she wasn’t sure if he’d actually met those two princes before losing interest.”
“That’s a shame. I would’ve loved to have heard how well my intended got on with Prince Remy’s lizard. Both of those princes are now married to other people, so clearly whatever he did didn’t work there.” Winter put the new puzzle pieces into the mental picture he was forming of the man who’d decided to marry him. “Women?”
“Numerous acquaintances, nothing serious,” Pippin said. “According to Lady Julia, Crown Prince Rupert has many, many friends who enjoy similar interests to his own. He’s also been known to enjoy female company at the end of a social engagement, discreetly, of course. Lady Julia mentioned that he’s never allowed anyone to get too close, because he never intended to marry.”
“Hmm.” Winter leaned back in his chair. “We already know the only reason he’s offering to marry me is so he can go home to Simigile. I think we can safely assume he’s not going to want to have much to do with the Prince Winter he saw at last night’s function, which is why he chose me specifically.
“It’s my opinion that Crown Prince Rupert wants to continue living his life the way he always has. He clearly believes that by marrying someone he perceives as inferior to his ideal of a manly man, he can keep me in my place or ignore me completely. It’s not ideal, but it could be a workable situation for us and what we do.”
“Sire, if I can voice one issue you appear to have overlooked,” Sigmund said. “Marriage to anyone is a very serious matter. This contract is as binding on you as it will be on the crown prince. Marrying him will prevent you from ever marrying someone more suited to the person we all know you to be. Is this really a good idea?”
Winter smiled at his adviser. Sigmund had often been the voice of reason Winter needed at times, especially when he thought a harebrained scheme was a good idea. “That contract will raise my status to crown prince consort of Simigile?”
Sigmund nodded. “That is applicable from the moment you sign.”
“All right. So I’d get an increase in status, our family would get a wider reach geographically than we’ve had before…” Winter tapped on the table. “Combine that with a husband who will barely stomach being in the presence of the peacock of a man he believes me to be. My friends, we could do a lot worse. Royal marriages have been formed on a lot less.”
“At least the crown prince hasn’t insisted on an infidelity clause,” August added. “You could still find affection outside of the marriage, provided you’re discreet about it.”
But Winter shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t do that. Not because of Rupert – I don’t even know the man – but because I would never be so callous about another person’s affection. That’s not right. Besides, the fact that Rupert didn’t choose an option means I get to make the first decision in our married life. I imagine he’s left that part blank, perhaps knowing I would refuse the offer, or that my father would, if he refused to be faithful to me, so we might as well use that to our advantage.”
Winter wasn’t sure where the flutter of butterflies came from as he said, “Sigmund, pass the contract over. When you file the paper with the World Council, can you ask them to ensure my fiancé is notified that all the clauses in the contract apply from that moment forward? They may have to send him a copy to refresh his memory of what he’s signed up for.”
“As long as you’re sure, sire.” Sigmund slid the paper across the table, along with a pen.
Winter glanced at his brother, who was watching him closely. “Will you be coming along for the ride?”
August shrugged. “I’m expected in Southland in about six weeks, so I can come with you until you’re safely married. I’ll let Joseph know I’ll stand with you at the wedding as our family representative. We’ll have a lot to organize, and I’m not surewhat resources the Simigile castle might already have, or what we have to bring in. You can leave all that to me while you’re prepping for the wedding.”
“Hmm, that’s a thought.” Winter flicked his hair over his back as he bent over the contract, skimming the contents. “Shall I wear the white and gold colors of Martingale for the wedding? Or should I go with something exceptionally gaudy and colorful? What do you think?”
At least the darn man will be pleasant enough to look at if I am ever seated across a table from him,Winter thought as he quickly scribbled his signature at the bottom of the contract.
Chapter Three
“Sire, Your Highness. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have to insist you come with me. Sire, I need to speak with you, now.”
“I’m busy.” Rupert smiled at his companion for the evening. Lady Abigail was slightly more seasoned than he preferred, but she knew how to blush prettily, and with the coy way she didn’t meet his eyes, she was deliberately acting in a way that set Rupert’s blood aflame. It was a ploy – they both knew it – but Rupert was in a good enough mood to accept the ploy for what it was.
All was finally right in Rupert’s world. He’d had a successful hunt. Being back in Simigile was truly everything he needed to feel comfortable again. From the moment he’d crossed the border, Rupert felt a sense of relief and a warm feeling of coming home – back in the lands he was used to and where people were used to him. He’d informed his father about the marriage contract, and then had disappeared to a local estate for a hunting expedition, confident that his father wouldn’t have gotten the invitations for the wedding out yet, meaning he didn’t have to mention his impending marriage to anyone.
Back among his friends, having successfully bagged two boars that day and proving that he still had what it took to be a successful hunter, Rupert was intent on pursuing other pleasurable pursuits.
“Your Highness, I have to insist, it’s a matter of the state,” Tristan whispered urgently in his ear. “You’ve had a communication from the World Council.”
