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“Yes… I would like an active role in all matters related to Norland. As you haven’t seen fit to chop off my head, I should like to use it. The ledgers, coffers, stores—I shall oversee all of it.”
Rowan tossed back a hearty swallow of ale. Then he drummed his fingertips on the oak table as he watched Princess Blanchette watch him.
“Done. I’ll have the ledgers delivered to your chamber. And so long as you follow my orders, I’d be honored to hear your counsel.”
“You’d be honored to hear it,” she echoed with a scoff. “But will you be honored to heed it?” She fidgeted with her signet ring, her cool armor beginning to crack and show vulnerability. “Very well. As it happens, I have a request I’d like you to meet here and now.”
Rowan sliced into his mutton, then stabbed the meat with his fork more aggressively than needed. “I would allow you to ask it of me.”
She tensed, her lips pressed into a hard line, her eyes harder still. Then she gracefully cut into the mutton and took small, delicate bites. She flashed a smile that didn’t fit correctly, yet she looked beautiful doing so. “I’d like to discuss your prisoner and my dear friend again. Jonathan. I’d like an update on his child, Petyr, as well. I’d developed a great fondness for him.”
“You want Jonathan released.”
“I demand Jonathan’s release.”
Rowan sat back against the chair and casually folded his hands into each other. He surrendered to a smile. Just a small lift at the corner of his lip. “I don’t think you’re in a position to demand anything of me, Princesse.”
She said nothing; merely laid a fair hand on the seat’s armrest and stroked the wood. Rowan watched the way her slender fingers moved and felt his manhood stir.
How would they feel wrapped around my skin? And those lips. Lips as red as her cloak…
“Oh, I think I am, sir.” Her eyes said I’m in the position of high honor.
Rowan leaned forward and spoke directly to her blazing stare. “I understand you owe this man a great debt, but let me explain something to you. A lord who allows a criminal to walk freely is no lord to be feared.”
Blanchette dropped her gaze and scoffed into her barely touched mutton. “I thought it was the people’s love you desired. My father already had their fear. So you’ve effectively changed nothing.” She glared up at him, her voice cracking with emotion. “Look how far their loyalty extended in the end. Men who’d stood by my crib the day I was born tore down my family’s walls. You want true loyalty, respect, and order? Then earn it, damn you!” She punctuated the words by slamming her fist against the table. The goblets and plates chattered from the strike. “Otherwise… otherwise, it’s just more of the same.”
Her words hit him hard. His hand tightened on his goblet as he wrestled with what to do, what to say, calculating the best move forward.
Inexorably, he felt his admiration for her growing.
“You… you are right. That is wise of you to say. I shall do that,” Rowan said at length, his tone careful yet confident, “and you will help me. As my bride. I’ll pardon your friend and release him on the morrow. His boy too, of course. And you and I will enter a formal alliance before the kingdom before winter ends.”
The color visibly drained from her skin again. Her fingers gripped the chair’s armrest, and her nails dug into the fine wood. He was sure they’d leave marks. “Pardon me? As-as your bride?”
Rowan spread his hands wide in a philosophical gesture. “A marriage alliance between the Black Wolf and the Raven.”
Rowan watched as she swallowed hard, then exhaled a tense breath. She released the air slowly, and Rowan could hear it pass through her full red lips. “You are mad. You think I’d marry the man responsible for the death of my family?”
Rowan sliced into the mutton and took a big bite. “I’d think you’d want to unify the people and take your place as queen.”
Her lip rose into a sardonic smile, which caused the scar to pull taut across her cheek. “And I suppose this is a gift you mean to give me. A role I was born into. One you’ve stolen from me. Being Queen of Norland is now my birthright. You’re in no position to give me my crown; it is already mine.”
“Maybe so. But the kingdom you were born into is not the kingdom you live in now.”
She pushed away the plate of food, then locked his gaze. “I have you to thank for that.”
“Your father?—”
“The Winslowes have sat on the throne for generations. The kingdom has cycled through seasons. This is true, and perhaps my father brought a winter. But even the heaviest snows thaw. And Willem…” Her voice broke off, and tears flooded her blue eyes. She gallantly fought off those tears and pinched her small hands against her mouth. “Oh God, he would have been good.”
Rowan cursed. Then he closed his eyes, unable to bear the sight of her misery. In his mind, he heard her sobs in the chapel… saw her frail body curled up on the floor, shivering and lost, with Smoke beside her.
What can I do?
How can I ease her pain when she hates me so?
He reached across their seats with a lowered head and tentatively rested his palm on her hand. She tensed under his touch. He thought she’d scream and pull away, yet she did none of the kind. Instead, she dropped her hand from her face, and he felt her taut fingers loosen under his palm one by one. She released an audible breath that blew between them and caressed his face.
