“Could have fooled me.”
“Arnaud pushed through some tax breaks for the ultra-wealthy,” he declared. “I’m pushing through not only the end of those but also initiating higher taxes for the same. They are not happy. They also give profusely to campaigns for members of the Assembly. There’s going to be a vote on Tuesday, and right now, they’ll get the ninety-five percent to vote my resolution down. I need to pull three assemblybeings’ votes to my side before Tuesday. It’s a lot of negotiating, conceding, and strategizing, because I refuse to instigate ass-kissing. But public services have been negatively affected and even stalled without those taxes. This resolution has to pass.”
Mm-hmm.
Kingly duties never ceased.
He wasn’t done.
“We’re in the middle of a multi-pronged operation to put pressure on not only the three assemblybeings we’ve targeted, but all of them. This is being done personally, but also through the media. At first, the citizens of Sky’s Edge didn’t pay a good deal of attention to those tax cuts. Now that schools are being defunded and parents have to pay for books, food, and even fundraise to cover the salaries of teachers who are leaving in droves, they’re paying attention. Travel route operators have been laid off, and even if routes are authorized through automation, someone has to run those comps. And more than one in-flight crash has occurred. In fact, twenty-seven of them have…with four fatalities. I could go on. Those tax cuts are now not popular, except by the ones who benefit from them, and those are very few. And beings are now paying attention. Even so, no assemblybeings are caving, and we have only two more days to make them cave.”
“So, your head is somewhere else.”
“No, and yes. No, my mind is always on you. But about last night, royal spokesbeings are doing the rounds of news shows today and tomorrow. They need direction and we needed to refine the message. We also need to keep tweaking it, because we sense it’s working.”
“Right.”
“So that was last night. Onward from that, I don’t have to remind you that I want you to be my bride, my wife, my queen. What will not win you to that frame of mind is me being a lech, pawing at you and taking from you something it’s only your right to give, even if it’s tradition that you’re here to give it. Mostly, we both know, if this was a normal trial, it would be my option to take it.” His voice changed, grew firm, when he said, “I will not take that from you, Catla. I’ll only accept it when you’re ready to give it.”
“You might have told me that was your plan,” I returned.
“Apologies,” he murmured.
“And I don’t know if I’m ready to give it…” Lie! I so was ready to give it. Even more so now, tipsy and standing in his embrace. “So thank you for being cool about that and giving me space.”
“You’re welcome.”
“No matter what happens, you’re going to approve the compatibility trial, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
I sighed and slumped in his hold.
“We’ll get there,” he said softly.
“I’m glad you’re sure,” I mumbled.
He took one arm from around me so he could cup my jaw.
At his sweet touch, I focused on him again.
“You’re not opening your mind,” he remarked.
“If my mind was open to more stuff, it’d explode,” I retorted.
He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “We’ll give it time.”
Time.
I wasn’t sure that would work.
What I was sure of was that I had no choice.
“Are you ready for bed?” he asked.
I twisted my neck to look at the mess on the floor. “I should clean that up.”
“We have bots, Cat.”