“You did all this for me?”
“Of course,” he says. “I want you to like it here. I want you to be comfortable.”
“You…you want me to like this?”
“Of course I do,” he says, as if it is the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard, the idea that this man who makes edicts out of other people’s lives might not care about their happiness. “Your time will be spent here, in the majority—you must have access to the things that bring you joy.”
I am rattled by this. By this statement that I’m going to spend most of my time here.
“What about the potential for studying at university?”
“We have the ability to bring top-tier teachers in for you. For you to join in classes virtually anywhere in the world. There is no need for you to go to university.”
“But…” I realize that it was a childish thought. I realize of course that there is no queen or king sitting in a classroom in a regular university, living in another country. That there’s no way he would ever let me live away from him, especially not because he sees me as his potential baby factory. But hearing the words, fully having to accept it…
Perhaps I wanted a different life more than I realized.
More than education, but a chance to be away from here.
I then realize how much I was hoping he would simply change his mind. How much I was hoping that he would realize that I was young and I deserved to do more. How much I was hoping that this would all magically work out. I thought that I was practical.
I’m not.
I’m just a girl. One full of hope that I have no right to have.
One full of an unrealistic and shattering amount of optimism. I’ve walked myself into a prison, and I was so certain that because I had done it of my own accord, that I would have some control over when the door was locked.
But this man is my jailer. And what he says is what will be.
I had too much confidence in myself.
“I was hoping that I might actually go somewhere for school,” I say.
“It is impossible,” he says. “Do you have any idea how dangerous the world is? Especially for someone with a raised profile as you will have. There is no way that you could ever safely navigate something like that. No. You must stay here.”
“You said that I would be spearheading committees and—”
“Yes. In the palace. I have enemies, sparrow. You must be kept safe.”
“You… You’re talking about putting me in a cage.”
“Yes. The cage will keep you safe. But look, look at these books. Look at this life. I can make you the most beautiful cage. You will not even see the bars.”
I stare at him, and I know that he believes this is true. I know that his arrogance makes it so that it seems impossible to him that I might not simply fall in line with what he wants. That I won’t think this is the greatest idea devised by man or beast.
“All I will see is the bars, Lucian,” I say.
He stares at me for a long moment, his expression turning to stone. “Then I will make them beautiful too.”
And then he leaves me standing there, utterly bereft. All of my hope drained from me. I have to face the truth. I sold myself into marriage. And I have no control over anything.
I don’t want to meet him for dinner. But the king has summoned me, and I’m told that I have no choice. I weigh my options. Because I know that I can refuse him. I can certainly stay in my room, force him to carry me down physically, or for him to get the guards to do so. I have more control than they want me to think. Because I can opt to be uncomfortable. I can opt to make it a war.
I decide not to, because I don’t believe that it will help me. And as much as I would love to have a fight simply for the sake of it, I know there’s no purpose to it.
I take a deep breath, and I begin to walk down the spiral staircase. Now I’m taking the stairs simply to prolong the amount of time it will take before I have to face him again.
When I walk in, he is sitting at the head of the table, looking thunderous. “You’re late,” he says.
