“Safe Harbor is plenty sophisticated.”
“Of course, Your Majesty. I simply meant that there’s always room for improvement. For instance, the tradition of the king personally greeting merchants at the harbor could be...reconsidered. Delegated to appropriate officials, perhaps.”
“That tradition stays.” Darragh’s voice went flat. “Anything else you’d like to reconsider about how I run my kingdom?”
Lord Baltic had the grace to look nervous. “I...no, Your Majesty. I apologize if I overstepped.”
“You did.”
The man was ushered out, and Darragh dropped back onto his throne with more force than necessary.
“He made some valid points,” Thomas ventured.
“He made some points,” Darragh corrected. “Valid is debatable. Who’s next?”
The parade continued. Each candidate was more polished than the last. Each one saying exactly what they thought Darragh wanted to hear. Each one boring him to tears.
Lady Miranda gushed about how handsome he was.
Lord Geoffrey outlined a detailed plan for social reforms that were either already implemented or completely impractical.
Lady Anne spoke so softly that Darragh had to lean forward to hear her, and when he asked her to speak up, she’d nearly fainted from embarrassment.
Lord Christopher brought a list. An actual written list of his qualifications, which he read aloud like a student reciting a prepared speech.
“Your Majesty, this is going well,” Helena said during a brief break while the next candidate was brought up from the waiting room. “These are quality individuals from respected families.”
“These are people who have no idea how to be themselves.” Darragh accepted a glass of water from a servant. “They’re performing. Every single one of them.”
“They’re trying to make a good impression,” Thomas said.
“They’re trying to be what they think I want.” Darragh drained the glass. “Not one of them has said anything honest or interesting or remotely genuine.”
“Perhaps your expectations are too high.”
“My expectations are that someone can have a real conversation with me.” Darragh set the glass down harder than intended. “Is that really too much to ask?”
Aldric consulted his ledger. “We have three more candidates today, Your Majesty. Perhaps one of them…”
“Will be exactly like the others.” Darragh slumped in his throne, aware he probably looked like a petulant child and past the point of caring. “Fine. Bring in the next one.”
Lord Benedict was obsessed with lineage. He traced his family tree back seven generations and seemed to expect Darragh to be impressed that his great-great-great-grandmother had once met a visiting prince.I’m a freaking king!
Lady Marilyn wanted to discuss literature. Which would have been fine, except she only wanted to discuss romantic poetry, and she kept looking at Darragh with an expression that suggested she was imagining him as the hero of one of her novels.I’d disappoint her in less than an hour.Darragh didn’t have a romantic bone in his body.
Lord Nathan was...actually, Darragh wasn’t sure what Lord Nathan was about, because the man agreed with everything Darragh said before he even finished saying it.
“I think the weather…”
“Is absolutely perfect, Your Majesty, I completely agree.”
“You don’t know what I was going to say.”
“Nevertheless, I’m certain you’re correct.”
Darragh had ended that interview within five minutes.
“Your Majesty.” Helena stood, smoothing her skirts. “I understand your frustration, but you must admit these candidates are well-qualified…”
