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“I hope so.”
“So, can I count on you to take the trip? I know you aren’t married yet, but I don’t think it’s too early to get started. I’m sure you realize the enormity of the task I’m asking you to complete. I am confident you are the man for the job.”
I considered his request carefully, recognizing the importance of this task. It was as I thought. I was being interviewed. Rather, I was being pitched to. I had to swallow my disappointment. There was no talk about love or how well I could take care of Emilie. He didn’t care if I was an asshole that would mistreat his daughter. It was all about the business. I looked at Emilie and noticed she had her eyes on her plate. I understood why she was the way she was. It wasn’t about love. At least not love for me. It was love of country.
“I would be honored to assist in any way I can, Your Majesty,” I replied, my commitment clear.
The King’s eyes met mine, a hint of appreciation in his gaze. “Good. The trip will take approximately two weeks, and during that time, Emilie and her lady-in-waiting, Astrid, will accompany you. It will provide an opportunity for both of you to work together and strengthen your partnership. We want you to be seen together. It will give confidence to our people to see you two already working together.”
I nodded, understanding the wisdom. The journey would be an opportunity for me and Emilie to get some time together. At least, that was my reasoning. I knew their reasons were a little more calculated. “That’s a good idea.”
“You have a manservant, right?”
I hated thinking of Jack as a manservant. “Yes.”
“I suggest you take him along. His presence may provide some comfort during your travels, and it will ensure there are no rumors started about improprieties being taken. This marriage needs to be free of scandal.”
Emilie’s father’s proposal had taken me by surprise, but as the weight of his words settled in, I couldn’t help but turn my attention to Emilie herself. The decision ultimately rested on her shoulders. She had been very quiet throughout her father’s pitch. I wasn’t going to put her in an awkward position. If she didn’t want to travel with me, I wouldn’t go.
Turning toward her, I met her gaze with a measured expression. “Emilie, are you okay with this arrangement?”
The question hung in the air, and for a moment, there was a palpable sense of tension in the room. Emilie, clearly taken aback by my inquiry, blinked in surprise.
“Of course, she’s okay with it,” her father said. “She knows her role.”
I ignored him and kept my focus on her. I felt a genuine concern for Emilie’s feelings and well-being. She was already dreading the marriage. I wasn’t going to make things worse for her.
Emilie’s eyes met mine, and I could see a range of emotions flicker within them—surprise, curiosity, and maybe a hint of gratitude.
She took a moment to compose herself before finally responding, “Yes, Theo. I am in agreement with the plan. It’s what’s best.”
“See,” her father said, smiling. “It’s settled. Will you go?”
“Of course,” I said, nodding.
The King beamed. He was clearly very happy with his plan. I was happy to spend some time with Emilie outside of the planned events. I hoped it would be the opportunity we needed to get to know each other. If things were still ice-cold between us after a couple of weeks together, then I would know I tried and it wasn’t going to work.
The final course was served. I laughed when I saw it was a New York style cheesecake.
“Are you pleased, Theo?” Ingrid asked. “Our chef said this was a very popular dessert.”
“It is,” I said, nodding. “Have you had it before?”
“I haven’t,” Emilie said.
“You are in for a treat,” I said and took a bite. “Oh, that’s good.”
As we concluded our dinner, I felt a sense of responsibility settling upon my shoulders. The dinner had been informative. I understood Emilie a lot better.
I excused myself from the dinner table, making my way toward the restroom. The conversation about our upcoming journey had been settled. I hoped my dad could handle business on his own. My original plan was to go home on the break, but it looked like I was going to be touring Europe.
As I returned from the restroom, I couldn’t help but overhear voices emanating from down the hall. I casually wandered toward the voices, assuming they were serving after-dinner drinks. Emilie was speaking to her father, their tones hushed but earnest. I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to intrude on their private conversation, but something compelled me to linger nearby.
The words reached my ears, and it was clear that Emilie was expressing her reservations about the journey and the Wed season match altogether. Her voice carried a hint of desperation.
“Please, Father,” she implored. “Do not make me go with him. I beg you to reconsider this match.”
The urgency in Emilie’s voice sent a shiver down my spine, and for a moment, I felt a twinge of guilt for overhearing such a private exchange. It was evident that her request came from a place of genuine distress.
