How Far
Chapter 5
The Royal Council held a special session the next afternoon. This was Guy's first official exposure to what Natalia often called "the grumpy old men". The highest ranking and most influential lords with titles as old as the kingdom had all assembled to approve the first royal marriage in over twenty-five years.
Guy stood beside Natalia, admiring her stature and trying to emulate it. She stood tall, proud, regal, a true princess in deportment and purpose. He needed to appear worthy of her and the position he would take, modest yet deserving, a difficult combination to pull off.
So he went with the red coat this time.
When she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, she gave him a small, reassuring, even grateful smile. He returned it with his own gratitude before focusing on the proceedings again.
The betrothal agreement had been drawn up overnight, but the haste did not preclude great care. Every detail was documented in unequivocal terms, and the wedding date was set for next month to coincide with Natalia's twenty-fifth birthday, as expected.
The terms provided that while Guy would never obtain a title higher than prince or be eligible to rule—which was fine by him, as he did not want that responsibility—any children of the union would succeed the throne from Natalia. Should no children result from their marriage, upon Natalia's death the throne would be inherited by Luke and his future heirs as stated in the original Order of Succession.
At the mention of children, Guy watched Natalia's cheeks flush bright pink as they had that day in his workshop, and he bit back a grin. His teasing would likely be misinterpreted as an eagerness to copulate with the beloved princess, and he wouldn't undermine the solemnity of the occasion with such lascivious thoughts.
Too late. He just imagined her naked again. Her creamy skin soft and supple as the finest silk, her curves graceful and inspiring as a cello…. Damn, what happened to his mental discipline?
He forced himself to stare at the ugliest, oldest, wrinkliest man in the room until the image went away.
It didn't take long.
Next in the agreement was the stipulation for Natalia to obtain the title of Countess Gardios of Malkuth. "Sorry it's a step down," he whispered to her, and the little smile reappeared on her lips.
"I'll make do," she answered.
In addition, and this Guy did not expect, he would receive one of the Cecilles' lesser titles. The Cecilles' main title had been restored and granted to his cousin Jozette, but Guy would receive the rank of Baron Gounesse, a privilege he was meant to inherit from his mother. He'd never even known about it. There was no money or land associated with the title, but it was still rightfully his.
Natalia grinned fully as if she were not surprised by this information. Had this been her doing? If they hadn't been in a stuffy room full of stuffy noblemen, he might have kissed her.
Everything else seemed standard, non-controversial, and in order. The king signed the contract first, then Natalia. Guy took the quill from her and prepared to add his name, noting the space above for the emperor's signature.
Oops. This was going to require some hefty explaining. Not that he believed the emperor would object, but because Guy had left for Baticul with no other excuse than that the princess had requested his assistance with a personal matter. He hadn't wanted to say more until speaking with the king and gaining his approval, and things were progressing more rapidly than he had expected at the time.
Well, Jade would say there was no one better at explaining things than Guy. Other than walking His Imperial Majesty's rappigs, it was Guy's most important job.
As he was signing, his relief at making it through the process so far came to an end.
"I cannot let this farce continue, Your Majesty!" A man a bit older than the king rose from his seat in the center of the chamber, his manner calm but his face red with barely repressed hostility. "You would marry your daughter to a Cecille?"
"My daughter has made her choice, Creemore," the king replied, "and we will honor it as agreed."
Creemore. It was a name Guy had learned only recently, but it filled him with dread as if he'd known it all his life.
"Eugenie Cecille was a traitor!" Creemore spat.
Guy's fists clenched at his sides, desperately missing his sword. He had two choices: speak up and make an even greater enemy of Creemore, not to mention come across to everyone present as someone hotheaded and vengeful, or keep silent in the interest of remaining above old pettiness. Silence also implied weakness, so how was that a choice, really?
But before he could say anything, Natalia beat him to it. "Eugenie Cecille was an honorable woman who stood by the husband her king chose for her."
"And would you do the same, Your Highness?" Creemore's tone remained even and politic, but there was a definite sneer in the way he addressed her. "Stand beside your Malkuth lover and be traitor to your own country?"
To hell with maintaining civility. He could take whatever came his way, but he was supposed to stay quiet and let this asshole attack her, too? "How dare you insult Her Highness wi—"
"Natalia. Gailardia. You are excused." The king's command sliced through Guy's words so quickly he never finished the thought in his head.
He saw the frustration in Natalia's eyes, then she turned away, leaving him to follow her out of the Council chamber and into the corridor.
There must be something comforting he could say, but all that came out was "Wow."
"Indeed." Her eyes closed briefly, exhausted from that bit of vitriol directed at her. If this was the kind of thing she was dealing with, it was no wonder she had come to him. She shouldn't have to face it at all, much less alone. Her father wouldn't always be there to support and protect her. "It's too warm in here. Shall we take a walk through the garden before dinner?"
Just like that she pushed it aside. That was something he needed to relearn, to keep his anger controlled and buried deep. No one would trust him if he proved to still be that kid filled with rage and eager to pull his sword over any slight. If he were to be any help to her at all, he needed to keep his cool. "Yeah. Go on, I'll be with you in a second."
"Yes, all right."
Once she was out of sight, he slammed his fist into the nearest stone wall.
-x-x-x-
Escape wasn't an escape if it was by instruction, but Natalia still felt a liberating sense of relief as they took a quiet evening stroll around the garden. It was easier to breathe here, surrounded by nature's greens and whites and pinks and oranges, with the openness of fresh air preferable to the oppressing stuffiness of the Council chambers.
They walked side by side in silence for several moments before Guy spoke. "If I'd known you were up against Duke Creemore—"
"You'd never have accepted my proposal?"
"I'd have accepted right away. The Creemores have always hated the Cecilles. According to Jozette, they were the first to turn against us. Looks like some things never change."
"The Creemores have short tempers and long memories," she replied, and he nodded.
"Yeah, that's what Jo said. Now I'm even more convinced we're doing the right thing. You can't let someone like that have too much rein. He'd destroy both Kimlasca and Malkuth." The Creemores were warmongers, it was true, and while it wasn't the thing to admit so publicly, they had to be clinging to the promise of prosperity foretold by the Score. There were others who felt the same. It wasn't talked about, but neither was it a secret.
It was another layer to Creemore objecting so strongly to Natalia's desire to marry someone from Malkuth, as an alliance and peace were the last things he wanted. That Guy was also a Cecille was another mark against him in Creemore's book, but that only served to validate her choice more as far as she was concerned.
And the way Guy stood up for her…. She never wanted to appear like a helpless woman incapable of ruling her country without a man's guidance, but she knew she would be stronger with him there.
"I can't believe he can get away with talking to you like that," he said now as if reading her thoughts.
"He won't entirely. The Council will censure him, and he'll offer me a pretty yet thoroughly insincere apology with the excuse that he was only giving voice to an objection others might raise, and somehow distance himself from these nebulous others by claiming it is his duty to ensure such concerns are unwarranted, because of course he would never impugn my royal person or our valued allies."
"That's bullshit."
"You'll get no argument from me." Her heels made purposeful clicking sounds along the stone path, and as she listened, the tread of his boots found the same rhythm. Whether conscious or not, she found comfort in the synchronicity. "Shall we talk about something more pleasant?"
"Absolutely."
With a little hop, less ladylike than most people would expect, Natalia perched on top of the garden wall like she did when she was young. Her legs idly swung back and forth until she remembered the old lectures about scuffing the backs of her slippers. Instead she crossed her legs and looked back at the palace as Guy leaned against the wall next to her. "You know those are my windows, correct?" she asked, pointing and waiting for his affirmative reply. Her finger then moved to the right. "Next to my rooms are the prince's chambers."
"Yeah?"
"They haven't been used since my father was a boy. You may want to look at them before you go and see if any redecorating is in order. I'll be glad to take care of it."
"Sure. Speaking of, the countess's suite at my house hasn't been decorated at all. I mean, there's some basic furniture and stuff, but if you want anything, I don't know, frilly or whatever, have it sent and I'll see that Merton is tortured with sorting it all out."
That sounded doubly fun. "Ooh, a new room to decorate and a way to make Merton miserable? Every time I turn around there's another advantage to marrying you." Poor Merton. She did like him; he was just so particular about everything. "I may like a yellow room this time, perhaps with sunflowers or daisies. I don't have a yellow room."
"You have so many rooms?"
"Well, there are my chambers here, my suite on the Princess Natalia is done in mossy greens, and my rooms at the royal retreat are a wonderful lavender with lots of hydrangeas and lilacs."
"Royal retreat?"
He must have forgotten, or still be processing that all of these things would be his soon, too. "Yes, you recall the royal family's private island?" He nodded slightly as if remembering. "It's probably where we'll spend our honeymoon."
At that he grinned. "A honeymoon on a private island. Every time I turn around there's another advantage to marrying you."
She would think that these repeated mentions of what would happen between them after they married would get less embarrassing, but they didn't. Or maybe they weren't embarrassing, and the heat she was feeling was… curiosity. "If you'd prefer, we could sail on the Princess Natalia instead."
"Nah, you know I'm still an island boy at heart. Besides, either way I'll get to ride the Prin—"
"Don't you dare finish that!" she said, giggling and blushing in equal measure.
"Hey, you're the one who offered to give me children. I'm just trying to keep up my part."
"In a manner of speaking." The joke was so obvious it popped out on its own.
He folded his arms and gave her an exaggerated frown. "Honestly, Natalia, must you make everything dirty? I'm never anything but a perfect gentleman." Shaking his head, he looked down at his boots in affected dismay, but she saw the smile curving his lips. Her giggles became full laughter, and he joined her at last.
It was a wonderfully cleansing feeling, like everything dark and suffocating was being released into the air to be swept away to whatever awful place such things came from. "Thank you," she said when her laughter subsided. "I needed that."
His smile was warm yet gave her gooseflesh. "At your service, Your Highness."
There was a breeze, carrying the songs of the evening's first nightingales, the males searching for a mate amidst the sweet scent of jasmine. The sun and moon prepared to change places in the sky, creating a blur of color across the horizon. This was always her favorite time of day, and it was lovely to have someone to share it with.
"So, I have something for you," he said, his voice low enough to be part of the mood rather than a spoiler. "I was waiting for the right time, and this looks like it."
From his pocket he took a small velvet box, and he turned it over in his hand like a magician playing with a deck of cards. "Most of my family heirlooms were lost with our house," he continued, "or I'd have something more impressive and ancestral. But this is good, too, I think. Something new for a new tradition. And instead of something old that someone dusty chose long ago, this is something I chose for you."
He opened the box to reveal a beautiful ring. The centerpiece was a stunning sapphire, round and perfect, with a cluster of three flawless diamonds on either side. The band itself was platinum but otherwise simple, and all the more elegant for it. It was luxurious without being ostentatious, sophisticated but unpretentious.
"May I?"
"Yes, of course." Her voice was shaky with surprise and something else, something like anticipation. She held out her hand, and he slid the band onto her third finger. The sapphire winked at her just as his blue eyes would.
"You like it?"
"It's gorgeous." It was her second engagement but her first ring. They'd never got to the ring part last time. Somewhere another ring still sat, never to be hers, waiting for Luke to be free to give it to the one he loved. "Yes, I love it." The tremor in her voice now was one of wistfulness, and when she met his eyes, she felt tears pricking at the back of hers. "I'm sorry," she said, blinking hard, refusing to let them fall and ruin this moment. "I'm just… indulging in a bit of nostalgia."
"Yeah, I understand," he answered gently, and she knew he did.
"I'm glad it's you, Guy," she said, and he smiled at her, a smile more pure and dazzling than the diamonds on her finger. The ring really was the perfect choice. It was so much like him, bright and genuine and full of promise.
"Me too."
The moon had ascended high enough to bathe the earth in a soft, romantic glow. The nightingales' chirps and whistles became more plaintive, the jasmine heady and alluring. She took a deep breath as if to inhale everything—the jasmine, the songs, the moon, and this contentment she'd been missing for so long.
As all of this surrounded them, he stood in front of her, looking at her like she was the center of this tableau, the reason for all of it.
"Would you like to kiss me?" Her words were impulsive, but she felt the night had been orchestrated just for them.
"Would you like me to kiss you?" He was standing so close. If only she would reach out, her hands could grasp the lapels of his coat and pull him to her.
"We are engaged," she answered. It wasn't loneliness or nostalgia for what she'd never have. At this moment, she didn't want anyone else. No one else was in her thoughts, no one else was making her heart pound as he leaned even closer, making her breath catch in excitement.
His lips landed on her cheek, and she let out a sigh of exasperation and longing. "That's not what I—"
Then his mouth was on hers, swallowing the rest of her complaint. With her lips parted in mid-word, he was able to take her upper lip between his, tug at it, savor it like a sweet piece of candy. The serendipity of the arrangement left his lower lip for her to tug and suck and nibble until she'd had her fill.
She'd never had a proper grown-up kiss like this, but it felt so natural to sink into him, opening her mouth to taste more of him. Her hand moved to his face without her even realizing it until she touched him, her fingers lightly tracing the angle of his cheekbone, then almost holding him in place when it seemed like he might pull away.
In all their years of friendship she'd never expected this. She wasn't oblivious or immune to his charms—no woman was—but she hadn't imagined kissing him, or wanting to, until now. It should have been strange and awkward, but instead it was the obvious next step. Not because they were engaged and this was what engaged couples did, but because it was them, and so it was… right.
When his mouth finally left hers, he stayed close, sharing her every breath, trembling beneath her fingers.
"Do you remember," he said, his voice a ragged whisper, "how you used to get your way with me?"
"I'd threaten to touch you." She could barely speak herself. "But that doesn't work anymore."
He pressed his forehead to hers. "I think now you'll have to threaten not to touch me."