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“You’re provoking a war amongst dragonkind to preserve your affair with a human?”
I stare at him in disbelief. “Father, I am not the one provoking the war. Lord Brantley is.”
“Lord Brantley is making the very reasonable request that his daughter’s fiancé stop engaging in an affair with a human girl,” my father counters.
“Dragons take human lovers all the time, Father,” I argue, “I had every intention of going through with my marriage to Amelie.”
“And you couldn’t find another human plaything?” he asks.
My eyes narrow. “She isnota plaything, Father.”
“No, she isn’t,” my father says. “She’s the woman you love. That’s the problem son.”
I don’t answer. He’s right, and there’s nothing I can say to deny it. My father sighs and says, “Son, it’s one thing to have a favorite concubine. It’s quite another to treat your wife as an irritant and lavish attention on your mistress.”
“Amelie doesn’t love me any more than I love her,” I argue. “She takes many human lovers.”
“Andyouhave takenonein the past fifteen months,” he retorts. “Son, I don’t doubt that Brantley intends a coup. I don’t doubt that he is the lying, dishonorable snake you describe him to be. In fact, I knew this about him long before you did. But you, son, have played right into his hands.”
I blink in surprise, but this time, I’m not offended. I’m embarrassed. I understand my father’s anger even before he makes it clear.
“You’ve now made it clear that you prefer humans to your own kind. It doesn’t matter if that statement is right or wrong. It doesn’t matter if that dichotomy is patently immoral. You’ve severed a marriage between the Crown Prince and a Lady of the Court for a commoner who isn’t even a dragon.”
Still, she is the woman I love, and she won’t stop being the woman I love just because of my duties. I can’t stop seeing her any more than I can stop being a dragon.
“I am willing to marry Amelie,” I tell my father, “and I will treat her with the deference and respect he deserves. You have my word she will no longer be treated as an irritant or distraction. But I cannot sever my relationship with Brooke. She is my true mate, my fated mate, and I can no more cut her out of my life than I can cut my own head off.”
My father sighs. “It doesn’t matter anymore, son. I told you, you played right into Lord Brantley’s hands. He knew you would refuse to leave Brooke. He knew you would end your betrothal to Amelie if your hand was forced. He knew you would escape if you were captured, and that in so doing, you would damage his home.”
A chill runs through me as I follow my father’s thought through to its conclusion before he confirms that conclusion out loud.
“He’s already declared war, son.”
ChapterNineteen
The Flames of War
Brooke
“Try him again.”
“Miss Patterson,” Petyr says, “we’ve already left several messages on both his royal cell phone and his personal cell.”
“Try him again!” I shout.
Petyr bows slightly and calls the number again.
It goes to voicemail.
I sigh and run my hands through my hair. Could something have happened to him? It doesn’t make sense. No doubt Lord Brantley intends a coup, but it would be suicide for him to attempt that coup by kidnapping or harming the Crown Prince. All he gains by that is a very quick and painful death.
Could he simply be ignoring my calls out of respect to Amelie? I know that she’s jealous of the attention I receive from Aiden, but she still sees me as a plaything for him and not a serious threat to her position.
I rule that out, too. He’s not ignoring personal calls from me, he’s ignoring official calls from his estate.
“Shall I call him again?” Petyr asks.
I nearly snap at him, but it’s not his fault that we’re in this position. I take a breath to calm myself and say, “No. Call his father.”
