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She would go along with this betrothal because it served her ends, not his. And because it did, she would go to these balls, announce their engagement in front of the whole world, and if necessary, even marry him on Christmas Eve in accordance with tradition. Who cared?
Because as soon as she made her move and took over her father’s company, it didn’t matter whether she was a queen or not. She would be the owner of Skyros Media and she would finally be in the power position over her father, and able to make sure that no matter what happened, Melody would be safe.
She’d worked her whole life to get to this place.
What did she care where King Orion was in all of that?
“Since we’re speaking so frankly,” he said, and she got the strangest sensation, then. It was almost as if he could read her every last thought. But that was impossible. He was a stranger and she’d been told a thousand times that she was unreadable. “I should tell you that I will insist on fidelity.”
“Of course you will.” She rolled her eyes and got the distinct impression that no one else had dared do such a thing in his exalted presence. So she did it again. “That must be one of those king things.”
“It’s one of those funny littleking things, yes. The royal bloodline determines the line of succession and the throne of Idylla, which has been in my family for centuries.” His stern mouth almost curved. Calista almost shivered. “You will find, I think, that most people in my position feel strongly about such things.”
“Let me tell you how I see my role as queen,” Calista replied, in a brighter tone than strictly necessary. “I can dress the part. But if you expect me to look adoring or fold my hands awkwardly while standing obediently behind you, that’s not going to work.”
“You are of noble blood, Lady Calista. Surely you are aware that there are certain rules of etiquette. One of them, I am very much afraid, is that you cannot precede your king.”
She sighed. “I understand etiquette, thank you. But you need to know, right now, that I have no intention of pretending I’m subservient to any man. King or otherwise.”
“Of course not.” His voice was soothing. Too soothing, she realized. “That is why you have agreed to marry a total stranger. Because you are in no way subject to your father’s demands.”
“For all you know I agitated for this job.”
She should not have said that. It had been a reaction, not strategic at all, and she regretted it at once. And then regretted it even more when those eyes of his glowed gold, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was somehow aware he’d scored points.
“I am delighted that you understand that it is, in fact, a job.” He nodded toward the windows, somehow incorporating the whole of the island with a single peremptory gesture. “Idylla is an ancient kingdom. Small but independent. An independence that historically came with a price.”
“Are you...telling me the history of my own country?”
“The history of this country is the history of my family, Lady Calista. Yours, I believe, was elevated to nobility a great many centuries after the first in my line took the throne.”
“Oh, I see,” she said after a moment. After that sunk in. “You don’t have the power in this interaction that you think you should, so you need to turn it into a measure of your manhood. In this case, apurer blood than thoucontest. Too bad blood isn’t actually blue. Or we could each open up a vein and see whose better matches the sky.”
“You missed my meaning entirely,” Orion said calmly. She decided she hated that tone he took. Its very calmness was offensive. “The fact is, with a few notable exceptions like my own father, my line has held the throne throughout the ages because members of my family have always been aware that a king can only be as effective as he is loved.”
“Loved by whom?” she asked, with a laugh.
And she ignored the fact that the laugh felt a great deal more brittle than it should have.
“I do not require your love, never fear,” Orion said coolly. And, once again, he made her imagine for a terrible moment that she might actually flush beet red. Like some silly girl, when she was anything but. “I require you to do your job. And no, that does not involve making cow’s eyes at me before the cameras, though I would prefer it if you did not scowl. That is not good optics, as I believe someone in your profession should know. But all of that is window dressing.”
“Window dressing? I would have assumed you had staff for such things.”
“Your actual job is really very simple, Lady Calista,” he told her in the same cool, intense way. “All you need to do is provide me with an heir.”
Something fairly sizzled between them at that. Much as Calista wanted to deny it.
She felt her breath punch out of her lungs. She felt her body change, growing hot and heavy.
Though she would die before she let him know that he had that effect on her.
She would die before she admitted that the idea of making heirs with him suddenly seemed a lot more interesting to her than wresting control of her father’s company—because it was a betrayal of everything she’d worked for.
It was a betrayal of her sister, herself, and the things they’d held dear their whole lives.
It was a betrayal, plain and simple, and she loathed herself for even a moment’s lapse from her primary goal, even if only in her own head.
She made herself laugh instead. As insultingly as possible.
