"Did you promise the Duke of Vermont you would help him attack Rowen?"
I held Valquiterre's gaze, searching for any flicker of deception. If the King had hidden intentions, even a moment's hesitation might reveal them.
Valquiterre burst into laughter—genuine, surprised laughter.
"You think I collaborated with Vermont? That I'd help orchestrate an attack on Temnes?" He smiled at me with something approaching fondness. "I knew you would likely die from Herzol. Vermont assumed your death would incite war."
"Exactly," I said quietly.
"But Vermont miscalculated," Valquiterre continued. "Kaian was already fully prepared to crush Vermont. Your marriage solved their food crisis—a five-year drought ended by Temnes grain. Vermont gained everything. Kaian gained..." He paused meaningfully. "Nothing but you."
The words stung more than I expected.
"I sided with neither Vermont nor Temnes," Valquiterre said calmly. "I solved a kingdom problem. The outcome simply benefited Vermont more than your husband."
I had nothing to say to that.
"What I'm curious about," Valquiterre continued, studying me with sharp eyes, "is why Kaian came to the capital at all. He had no intention of attending. Then suddenly he arrives at my Birthday celebration. What is he planning?"
"I don't know," I replied truthfully.
"He's my friend and brother," Valquiterre said firmly, answering his own question. "There's no hidden agenda."
Relief flooded through me. If the King harbored ulterior motives, Kaian could be endangered. I didn't want to be the cause of his downfall.
"Your life is a variable," Valquiterre said as we walked. "Things assumed to happen when you died—food trade, justification for war—those don't happen now. Everything changes."
"I didn't think there would be an opportunity to speak privately like this," I admitted.
"Do you have such dark thoughts?" Valquiterre asked gently. "I'm glad you survived."
We walked in silence for a moment.
"Kaian seems stable now," Valquiterre observed. "Because of you."
"I don't believe that."
"Why not? He came to the capital for you. He spends time with you in ways I've never seen him do with anyone."
As we walked further, Valquiterre slowed. "I'm relieved, actually. When you first arrived, your relationship seemed... special. It reassured me that Vermont's claims were lies."
"What claims?"
"That Kaian married you against his will. That he resents the arrangement." Valquiterre paused. "Those who rule sometimes say things that aren't true, things they wish were true."
The plain stretched before us, cold wind carrying his words.
"Bark," Valquiterre said suddenly. "Call me Bark. As you did when we met at the lake."
"I'm not accustomed to such familiarity," I protested.
"We won't see each other often. We should work to be close." He lowered his head to meet my eyes. "May I call you by your name?"
I hesitated. The royal family seemed to operate by different rules—calling each other by first names rather than titles. If this was tradition, refusing might seem insulting.
"Yes, Bark."
"Claudel," he said, and genuine joy appeared in his expression.
Something in that joy unsettled me, but I accepted it as gratitude for the King's kindness toward his cousin's wife.
---
We were walking when Valquiterre's expression suddenly shifted. His eyes focused on something behind me, and his brow furrowed.
I turned.
A figure stood partially concealed behind a log building. Kaian. With Princess Bianque pressed against him, her cheek flushed.
I moved toward them, but Valquiterre caught my arm.
"Let's not," he said quietly. "If Kaian discovers you left the tent, he'll be angry."
But I pulled free and walked toward them anyway.
As I approached, Kaian's voice became clear—cold, cutting, devastating in its harshness.
"I hope this doesn't happen again."
His tone. His expression. The way he looked at Bianque with absolute indifference.
*Like he looked at me when I first arrived at Rowen Castle.*
My heart began to race with a sickening sensation.
"You hugged another woman in front of me," Bianque was saying, her voice trembling with anger. "You said you were happy. That she was a gift to you."
"I don't have time for such nonsense," Kaian replied coldly.
"You did it on purpose!" Bianque's voice rose. "To make me feel inferior. To make me give up on you."
"I did nothing of the sort. The marriage was ordered by Valquiterre. That's all."
The words struck me like a blade.
"Why didn't you propose to me?" Bianque demanded, her eyes bright with tears. "I sent you twenty telegrams. You never responded."
"I've never wanted to marry you," Kaian said flatly.
"Liar. If you truly didn't care, you would have refused clearly."
"I did refuse. You simply didn't accept it."
Bianque's face went pale. "The marriage already occurred. It was by the King's command. That's enough."
Kaian turned away, but Bianque clung to his arm desperately.
"Who else should I marry?" she sobbed. "It has to be you. Please, if you'd just change your mind, Valquiterre would annul the marriage."
I watched them from a distance, feeling as though the ground had shifted beneath me.
This Kaian—cold, dismissive, utterly unreachable—was the man I'd feared when I first arrived. The man who'd looked at me with such disdain I'd thought he hated me.
But he'd never looked at me that way again. Over months, his coldness had gradually transformed into something else. Something that felt like care.
Now, watching him reject Bianque with the same ice I'd once endured, I understood.
He wasn't treating Bianque poorly because he lacked capacity for kindness. He was treating her that way because she wasn't someone he chose.
And somehow—impossibly—he had chosen me.
---