The King had decided to give the invitations to the royal ball personally to the Duke of Vermont and Irena. They were summoned to the palace to receive them in person.
An invitation to dinner with the King would follow.
*How demanding it must be to serve as King,* the Duke thought, yet he couldn't suppress his pride.
Such luncheons and dinners were family honors for nobility. Many people served as ministers their entire lives without receiving such an opportunity.
"This is the reward for raising my daughter well," the Duke declared proudly, as he always did when speaking of Irena—his "God's masterpiece." Thanks to her, the King seemed pleased with the situation. Telegrams, invitations, and royal messengers arrived constantly, and now even a dinner invitation.
"But don't let it go to your head," Irena cautioned.
"I'm not getting ahead of myself," her father replied. "By tomorrow, word will spread throughout the capital that the King has seen you personally."
The interpretation was obvious to everyone: the unmarried King had invited the famous Princess of Valmonde as though he'd been waiting for her arrival at Rowen. It was a significant incident that sparked widespread speculation among capital nobles with palace sources.
"His Majesty has never once mentioned engagement. The fact that he's requested to see you in person is deeply meaningful," her father continued.
"He might form a different impression upon meeting me in person," Irena said carefully. "His Majesty undoubtedly has his own preferences."
---
During her few days in the capital before the journey to Rowen, Irena's thoughts spiraled.
Remarriage was inevitable. Valmonde still lacked a clear successor. If something happened to her, the compensation would be cut off entirely. Vermont might lack collateral relatives like Temnes, but they'd maintained diplomatic leverage through strategic marriages to distant foreign powers.
It was an unwritten rule of the Vermont family: all but the eldest maintained family honor through arranged marriages.
Intellectually, Irena understood. She'd already been married once—a contractual union, nothing more. She'd never believed love mattered.
Yet the image of Claudel and Kaian kept intruding on her thoughts.
If she were still the person she'd been before witnessing their passion, she wouldn't have imagined developing feelings for the King alongside her existing reservations. But she'd never truly considered that her own heart might matter, or that a man's heart might matter, when set against family obligation.
As Irena's own heart grew agitated, so did the King's.
Vermont's name alone might make this marriage politically viable. But what would happen if she placed her heart—and the heart of a man she'd yet to meet—on the balance against duty?
---
Contrary to Irena's anxiety, King Valquiterre smiled brightly when he saw her.
"I finally meet you," he said warmly.
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