Page 11 of The Hopeless Romantic’s Guide to Enchantment

“Your Highness,” the man said with a nod. “My name is Darien Careth Pennraeden, lately the protector of Andras and Cennish.”

“So Andras and Cennish have fallen,” my father said quietly, two of the other Four Kingdoms. “Is that truly ‘protection’?”

“Andras and Cennish were run by autocrats who used violence to control their populations. They warred against their citizens every day. I brought those wars to an end.”

“War is an unusual way to obtain peace.”

“It isn’t ideal. But when kings aim only to enrich their coffers, it is necessary.”

“You’ll know by now we are a small and peaceful nation, that don’t use violence against our citizens. What do you want of us?”

“You may not use violence,” Darien said, “but you are hounded by reivers from Intarha. You’re isolated when the snows come. You’ve seen more famine in recent generations than any other nation in the Four Kingdoms. While Orlash hasn’t noticed you yet, its queen has begun to reach beyond her country’s borders, and her fingers are greedy.”

“You’ve studied.”

“I did not begin this journey without a plan, and good ale loosens tongues. I will help you build a reliable road to the south, so you won’t go hungry when the winters are bad. I will give you a stronghold. A fortified city on the plain, with towers high enough that you can look far across the Broken Sea. Drums to warn citizens when threats are near. Gatehouse doors can be closed so you have time to shelter the weak and gather the strong. The reivers won’t surprise you anymore.”

My father’s gaze flicked to Darien’s leg. “It appears you were surprised.”

Darien’s expression didn’t change. “An incident in the woods.” He glanced around the room, taking in my mother, the servants, the counselors. And then his gaze settled firmly upon me. The shadows weren’t enough to hide me from that searing stare. And most alarmingly, it wasn’t fear but anticipation that tripped along my skin. This man was my enemy.

“With my protection,” he said, looking toward my father again, “you won’t have to send your daughter to hunt for them.”

“My daughter, like all other daughters and sons in the Edgelands, has done her part to protect the nation.”

“And that will no longer be necessary. I’ll leave a battalion here to protect you from reivers until my war is won. And when the world is united, the Edgelands will become the Northern Gate of our empire.”

My father crossed one leg over the other, linked his fingers. “I don’t believe you have the resources for that.”

“Not yet,” Darien said. “But soon. When our united nation can trade without fear.”

“And you want what, precisely, in exchange for this bounty?”

“Your agreement, as one of the Four Kingdoms, to join me. My army becomes your army, and we stand together against Orlash and the other nations that surround us.”

“And if we don’t?”

“You will stand alone.”

My father turned the golden ring on his right thumb, a signet that bore the Edgelands’ seal. I wondered if he was thinking about those who’d held the seal before him, and what they might do in the same circumstances.

The silence was heavy as he pondered our future, and I didn’t envy the weight on his shoulders.

“You hold to the promises you’ve made, and when you do so, we will join your kingdom and offer fealty to you.”

There was a change in Darien’s posture now. His shoulders relaxed, as if no longer facing an enemy, but a colleague. And there was no disdain in his eyes. If I was reading him correctly, he did not pity my father’s submission, but respected it.

He nodded. “I will hold to my promises. You are now under my protection, and will continue to stand as regent on my behalf.”

“Then it’s done,” my father said, his words heavy as stone.

“My army will need rest before resuming its journey,” Darien said. “Two days, perhaps three. Then I will leave you, but the promised battalion will stay. When the last kingdom is ready to join us, the work will begin.”

At my father’s nod, Darien gave me a final glance, then strode from the room, soldiers following behind. And that was the surrender of our small, quiet nation.

* * *

There were shouts, objections, accusations. But silence fell when my father lifted his hand.