“Your mother was also the daughter of a duke,” Aldric pointed out. “She’d been trained in court protocol since birth.”
“And she still made mistakes. I remember...” Darragh moved to the window again, looking out over the harbor. “I remember her telling me about the first state dinner she hosted. She seated the Valanian ambassador next to someone he was feuding with, andit nearly caused a diplomatic incident. She learned from it. She adapted.”
“That’s different…”
“How? How is it different?” Darragh turned back to face them. “Because she had the right bloodline? Because she’d been taught which fork to use? That’s exactly the kind of thinking Finn was talking about. We can get so focused on appearances that we forget what actually matters.”
Helena looked thoughtful. “And what actually matters, in your opinion?”
“Partnership. Trust. Being able to talk to each other honestly.” Darragh ran a hand through his hair. “I’m going to be working alongside this person for the rest of my life. That means my spouse will have to put up with my annoying habits for a start. Can you imagine being with someone for the rest of your existence, and they just agree with everything you said just because you wear a crown on your head. I want to be in a marriage where, at the end of the day, I’m not making excuses to get out of spending private time with my spouse.”
“That’s all very romantic,” Aldric repeated. “But romance doesn’t help us host the summit.”
“No, but competence does. And Finn is competent. He manages projects, coordinates workers, and solves problems. Those are all skills that translate to royal duties.”
“Managing a roof repair or hosting a village festival is not the same as managing a state dinner,” Thomas said.
“Isn’t it, though? You’re coordinating multiple people, managing resources, solving problems as they arise, making sure everything gets done on time.” Darragh crossed his arms. “The scale is different, but the principles are the same.”
The advisers looked skeptical.
“Look.” Darragh softened his tone. “I know you’re worried. I know you think this is impulsive. But I’m asking you to trust me. Give Finn a chance. A real chance, not just a second interview you’re planning to sabotage.”
“We would never sabotage…” Aldric began.
“You’d find reasons why it wouldn’t work, why he wasn’t suitable. Why we should consider other candidates.” Darragh held up a hand before any of them could protest. “I know how this works. But I’m telling you now I want to pursue this. I want to get to know Finn better. I want to see if what I felt during that interview was real or just...novelty.”
“What did you feel?” Helena asked quietly.
Darragh hesitated. Admitting attraction was one thing. Admitting that he’d spent the last hour replaying the conversation in his head, thinking about Finn’s laugh and his honesty and the way he’d sat there in a jacket he clearly felt uncomfortable with, openly admitting to being paid in honey cakes...that felt more vulnerable.
“Interest,” he finally said. “I feel sincere interest. For the first time in years, I met someone and thought I want to know more. I want to hear what else they have to say. I want to see them again.” He met Helena’s eyes. “Isn’t that what you wanted? For me to actually engage with this process instead of treating it like a chore?”
“We wanted you to find someone suitable,” Aldric said.
“And I have. You just don’t agree with my choice.”
“Because he admitted himself he’s not suitable!”
“Because he was trying not to get chosen.” Darragh moved back to the table. “Did none of you catch that? He was deliberatelyemphasizing his shortcomings. His brother nominated him without permission. Finn came here expecting to fail, probably hoping to fail, so that he could go back to his comfortable life in Winrone.”
Thomas frowned. “But if he doesn’t want the position…”
“I didn’t say he doesn’t want it. I said he came here expecting to fail, because of the standards set by people like my council advisers.” Darragh sat down again. “There’s a difference. I want to find out what Finn would do if he thought success was actually possible.”
The three advisers looked at each other. Some silent communication passed between them, the kind that came from working together for years.
“One week,” Helena finally said.
“What?”
“One week. You can have your second interview with Lord Finn. You can get to know him better, see if this interest is legitimate or just novelty, as you said.” Helena’s expression was firm. “But if it doesn’t work out within a week, you agree to have second interviews with three other candidates. Of our choosing.”
“That’s not…”
“That’s the deal, Your Majesty.” Aldric crossed his arms. “We’re willing to give Lord Finn a chance, a real chance, as you requested. But the summit is in six months, and we need you settled before then. If Lord Finn proves unsuitable, we move on. Quickly.”
Darragh wanted to argue. He wanted to point out that a week wasn’t enough time to really get to know a person, that they were setting Finn up to fail with such a short timeline, and that this whole negotiation was ridiculous.
