Mere months to find someone who wouldn’t bore him - two at most. Requiring that same person to be honest, who could hold an actual conversation, and who was intelligent enough to keep up with all he did in a day? A person who didn’t exist in other words.
Sighing, Darragh forced himself to focus on what he did know how to do. It’s not that he didn’t understand what his advisers were saying. It was King Mintyn of Marinkaw’s wedding to his delightful Syrus that set him off on the great marriage quest in the first place.Mintyn married a male, too,Darragh thought, and no one had ever seen that coming, but the two men were very happy.
You clearly got the last good one left, Mintyn.Darragh sighed again. Deep down, he already knew how his adviser’s efforts would go. In six months, he’d host the World Council summit as a bachelor king, just like he’d planned all along. At least thistime, he wouldn’t have to leave Safe Harbor to be disappointed. He could do that in the comfort of his own home.
Chapter Two
“Hold it steady!”
Finn braced his shoulder against the beam, muscles straining as old Mrs. Weatherby’s roof creaked ominously overhead. Sweat dripped down his back despite the cold air, and he was pretty sure he had splinters in places where splinters had no business being.
“Got it!” Trent, Finn’s PA, valet, and bodyguard, hammered the last nail home, and Finn could finally ease back, rolling his shoulders.
“You know,” Trent said, climbing down the ladder, “most lords wouldn’t be caught dead doing roof repairs.”
“Most lords aren’t the fifth son of an earl with nothing better to do.” Finn wiped his hands on his trousers, already stained with dirt and wood sap. “Besides, Mrs. Weatherby makes those honey cakes.”
“I heard that!” The old woman’s voice carried from inside the cottage. “And there’ll be fresh ones waiting when you’re done, Lord Finn, don’t you worry.”
Trent grinned. “See? That’s why you’re everyone’s favorite.”
“I’m everyone’s favorite because I’m useful and they know it.” Finn surveyed their work. The new beam would hold through winter, and they’d replaced the worst of the damaged shingles. “Unlike my brothers, who spend all their time at court learning how to bow properly.”
“Speaking of court.” Trent leaned against the ladder, eyes gleaming with a look that meant he had gossip to share. “Did you hear about the king’s marriage search?”
“It’s hard not to. It’s all anyone’s talking about.” Finn gathered their tools. “Although I don’t know why everyone’s so excited. The poor bastard probably just wants to be left alone. I’m sure it’s his advisers that put him up to it.”
“Lady Helena confirmed it yesterday at the market. They’re looking for candidates from society families right here in Safe Harbor.” Trent waggled his eyebrows. “Eligible menorwomen.”
“Well, that’ll certainly make things interesting.” Finn handed him the hammer. “Though I feel sorry for whoever ends up married to King Darragh. Can you imagine it? The man builds ships with his own hands and curses like a sailor. What kind of proper spouse could handle that?”
“You could.”
Finn laughed so hard he nearly dropped the toolbox. “Me? I’d be a disaster. I’ve never spent more than a day at court in my life. I’d probably tell some visiting dignitary their hat looked stupid and start a war.”
“You’re honest and hardworking…”
“I’m also so low-ranked on the society rankings I barely count, and I have none of the skills necessary for ruling anything larger than a vegetable garden.” Finn shook his head. “Besides, can you see me helping host that big World Council summit thing? I’d probably say something rude to half the visiting royals within an hour. ‘Oh, your kingdom is very nice, shame about your face.’”
Trent snorted. “You wouldn’t say that.”
“I’d be thinking it, and that’s just as bad. That’s why I’m down here fixing roofs instead of up at court making important decisions.” Finn grabbed the toolbox. “Come on, those honey cakes are calling my name.”
They’d just finished washing up at the pump when Finn spotted a familiar figure riding up the path. His oldest brother sat tall in the saddle, looking every inch the future earl in his fine clothes and perfectly groomed appearance.
Oh no. What does he want?
“Finn.” Jericho dismounted smoothly. “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere.”
“I was on a roof. Where I usually am.” Finn eyed him suspiciously. “What do you want?”
“Can’t a brother simply visit?”
“Not when he’s wearing his court smile.” Finn crossed his arms. “What did you do?”
Jericho’s smile widened. “Well, seeing as you asked so nicely, I submitted your name to the council. For the king’s spouse selection.”
The world tilted sideways.
