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“That is a problem,” the king said. “And quite frankly, I’m confused. You agreed to my terms, and I feel I’ve been extremely generous and patient with you. And now you’re trying to tell me that my family’s stake in this empire ends when I die?”
Amara would have had to be deaf not to hear the dark threats behind his words.
This was getting interesting.
The emperor nodded at Dastan again. “Send for the palace augur.”
Amara frowned. The palace augur was a religious official who conducted Kraeshian rituals and ceremonies exclusively for the emperor.
“Are you bringing him here to have me swear a religious oath?” the king said evenly. “Your eminence, forgive me, but what does this have to do with discussing my bloodline?”
“This is not that kind of oath,” the emperor said. “This will ease your mind greatly when it comes to the future.”
“My blood is Damora blood—not even magic can change that. It seems we have a problem, your eminence.”
“Not a problem that can’t be fixed,” the emperor said. “You will marry my daughter. Today.”
Surely, Amara had heard him wrong.
She grappled to hold on to her composure, to not suddenly flee from the room. So this was why her father had wanted her here, and it had nothing to do with respect.
He wanted to use her as a bargaining chip.
She felt Felix’s gaze on her, and chanced a glance at him. He studied her with a deep frown.
“This union,” the emperor continued, “will symbolize the joining of our families and the sharing of power between you and me. Is this agreeable to you, Gaius? I know you’ve recently lost your queen and must be ready for a new one.”
The king appeared to consider this turn of events calmly. “Yes, my beloved Althea,” he said. “I have missed the company of a wife so very much. But with respect, your eminence, I would never wish to force such an arrangement upon anyone, least of all your lovely daughter.”
“Perhaps that is where you and I differ.”
“Perhaps,” the king acknowledged with a nod. “But I could only agree to this if Princess Amara does as well.”
All attention shifted to the princess.
She’d refused every other suitor her father had thrust her way, and the emperor had never forced her hand before. But that was then, when she was of so very little importance to him.
She’d be incredibly naive to think she had a choice here. And Amara was anything but naive. To make a fuss would only cause unnecessary conflict.
Today, of all days, she wanted her father to be pleased with her.
“It would be my honor to become your queen, King Gaius,” she said, ignoring the tightness in her chest.
The king raised his brow. She’d surprised him.
Dastan returned, accompanied by an old man with white hair and dressed in green robes.
“Excellent,” the emperor said. “Augur, please, let’s not waste another moment in making this official.”
The augur produced a long silk scarf that had been in Amara’s family for countless generations, and gestured for Amara to come stand before the king. Holding to Kraeshian tradition, he wound the scarf around her and the king, from ankle to shoulders, finally binding their hands together.
Amara looked up into the king’s eyes. He looked so very much like his son, Magnus. She hadn’t fully realized it until now.
As was custom, the wedding ceremony was performed in the Kraeshian language, with the augur repeating the vows in the common language so the king could understand.
The augur spoke solemnly about the duties of husband and wife. He stated that the wife would always be truthful to her husband. She would give him her power. She would give him children. She would serve him.
If she displeased him, it was within his rights to beat her.
