Page 31 of Unmasked

The Magister’s voice deepened. “We uphold tradition. Without the trials, she is not a queen. You know that.”

I shifted but pressed on. “And you know that she’ll pass. She is my queen. There will not be another if something happens to her.” I took a deep breath through the continued threats that wanted to come. “Giving us your blessing and allowing us to marry could save her from being placed in harm’s way. It gives her an out without causing scandal. It could work.”

The Magister leaned forward. “And if the king presses to know who her husband is? You risk not only both of your lives but The Order.”

My head shook. “He won’t learn the truth. What matters is stopping her from going now—before we risk losing her.”

A long moment passed before the Magister sat straighter in his chair, across from me.

“The king’s threat is real. I will agree with you on that. But bending the law will break us from within. It cannot be done. If you wish to marry her now, she must undergo the trials. Is that what you want?”

A deep sound rumbled in my throat as I fought not to pound the side of my fist into the table.

“She is not ready.”

“Then you will wait.”

The bow of my head was slow. My glare was set but I didn’t aim it at them. I stood, turning to leave the Gathering Room. Each step came down harder than the next. My stride was fast and determined. It was dangerous, and every guard I passed lowered their head as I went by.

Reaching into my pocket, I took out my phone, dialing Penelope. Two rings passed before she answered it, winded. I knew she was probably training, but I couldn’t stop myself.

“Hey. You’re early. I thought we were going to go over⁠—”

“Why was my family truly removed from power?”

Seconds passed, and footsteps padded in the distance.

“It was a fabricated betrayal to justify seizure of power.

Turning, I headed down my hallway. My mind raced.

She couldn’t go to Scotland. Not with him.

She couldn’t.

“What was the first queen’s greatest failure?”

“She wasn’t able to reclaim the throne in her lifetime.”

My head nodded, even though she couldn’t see.

“What is the purpose of high society gatherings?”

Penelope got quiet. I opened my study door, practically slamming it behind me. A sigh left her.

“Power displays. Alliances. Influence.”

“When do you refuse power?”

“Vaughn…”

“You have to answer.”

Again, she got quiet.

“You refuse power when it costs autonomy … or weakens long-term control.”

I sat down at my desk, closing my eyes.