“It is just as well. It would look suspicious if I was too highly made up at this time of morning, even with the warning of the messenger.” Adeline pulled herself straighter, gathering herself as she forced her mind to function. “But perhaps a shawl?”
“Yes, milady.” Jelsa disappeared into the dressing room, returning a moment later with a long, gray shawl. A properly somber color without yet going into full mourning. While the yellow day dress was hardly somber, it was at least a nod to the Kelvernese royal color of deep yellow.
“Thank you.” Adeline wrapped the shawl around her shoulders just as a knock sounded on the outer door of her suite.
Jelsa hurried from the room and across the sitting room, and Adeline followed at a slower pace. She closed the door to her bedchamber after her, standing off to the side.
Cracking the door open, Jelsa dipped her head respectfully. “Yes, milord?”
“The princess has been summoned to attend hergrandfather.” Lord Sarlon’s whining, supercilious tone grated over Adeline’s skin.
She lifted her chin high and swept to the door, not flinching when Lord Sarlon gave her an assessing look from head to toe, the pinch in his brows saying that he found her wanting.
He spun on his heel and set off down the corridor, and Adeline followed. Likely she should be the one leading him as she outranked him, but she was too tired to engage in that battle just yet.
Appearing out of the darkness farther down the corridor, Thaddeus gave her a nod before he slipped into her room. At least Lord Lorne wouldn’t be left fully alone.
Jelsa and one of her guards trailed after her, and something eased inside her at the fact that she wouldn’t be alone with the lord. Or with her grandfather.
The corridor ended in a large space where several of the main corridors connected. The doors for the king’s palatial apartments and the consort’s suite opened from this foyer.
The door to her grandfather’s chambers stood open as a revolving hustle of scribes, secretaries, stewards, guards, court officials, and lords scurried in and out. The bustle halted as she glided through the doorway, everyone pausing what they were doing to bow or curtsy to her.
She didn’t stop to acknowledge them, not even with a nod. Her focus remained on the door across the expansive sitting room. That door, too, hung open, andthe royal doctor stood beside the bed, a bloody bandage in his hand.
After all the blood and injuries she’d seen the night before, she shouldn’t quail before this. Yet her hands still trembled where she had them clasped before her, and her stomach still flipped as she stepped into the bedchamber and smelled the musty odor of blood and the sour stench of a festering wound.
Her grandfather lay on his bed, the covers only drawn to his waist. A deep gaping wound slashed across his stomach, and Adeline had to look away before she caught more than a glimpse. This wound wasn’t at all like those Lord Lorne had suffered. His had scored through skin and muscle, but this one showed internal things that should never see the light of day.
She brought her gaze up to her grandfather’s face. He seemed so wan and drawn, so unlike the powerful force of a man that he usually was.
Yet when he turned his head and focused on her, his brown eyes still burned with the intensity that never failed to make her retreat within herself. “Adeline. Come here, girl.”
She tiptoed closer to the bed, avoiding the doctor as he continued his gruesome work. “Yes, Grandfather?”
“I am dying, or so the doctor tells me.” Her grandfather sent a scathing look at the royal doctor, as if he blamed him for not being able to save him from such ghastly wounds.
The doctor gave a slight shake of his head as he laid out fresh bandages.
Adeline managed a nod for her grandfather. He wasn’t looking for more of a response than that anyway.
“It’s time to stop avoiding the question of your marriage.” Her grandfather gave a grimace, though not all of his expression seemed directed at her.
Still, the sign of pain was far less than she would have expected, given how much pain Lord Lorne had been in from his more minor injuries.
But perhaps the lack of pain was a bad sign, the injury so deep he no longer felt it. Or maybe the doctor had dosed him so strongly he was all but numb.
“For that reason, I have betrothed you to Lord Sarlon’s second son.” Grandfather made a weak motion with his hand.
For the first time, she noticed that Lord Sarlon had followed her into the room, but he had remained near the foot of the bed. Now he stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back. “Jonas is greatly honored by this betrothal.”
Adeline swallowed. Jonas, Lord Sarlon’s second son, was a spoiled, blustering bully of a young man who did whatever his father and her grandfather told him to do. He was the last man in court she wanted to marry, knowing that Jonas would do his best to ensure she did whatever his father wanted. She’d be Lord Sarlon’s puppet queen.
Her grandfather knew that, but he also knew that Lord Sarlon would continue the war and force her ruleto follow in his footsteps. This was her grandfather’s way of exerting control over her, even after his death.
Adeline forced her shoulders to remain straight, her chin high. She’d already undercut her grandfather’s plans by marrying the Lalsacian lord. This betrothal was invalid since she was already married.
But now wasn’t the time to announce that yet. Her grandfather was still far too alert and too in power. He could still solve the problem by ordering Lord Lorne’s execution.
