Whispers Before the Coronation
Rio had escorted the countess to the chambers prepared for her, yet he found himself with nothing to say. She dismissed all her maids and began her preparations while he watched. The discomfort seemed mutual. As the silence and lingering glances grew heavier, the countess caught his reflection in the mirror, let out a quiet sigh, and spoke.
“Prince Rio?”
“Yes, my lady.”
She offered a faint smile. “Would you tell me about the last war?”
“Of course.”
Rio found the request awkward. She had drawn him all the way into her private rooms. The excuse of escorting a noblewoman was one thing, but into her bedchamber? He could not voice the objection aloud. Still, in his mind, the woman who would soon become his brother’s wife had no right to speak ill of her betrothed. Fiancé’s younger brother or not, what sort of woman invited another man into her bedroom?
Is it the bloodline after all?
Rio flinched at his own thought and shook his head sharply. More than a century had passed since the North began serving the same sovereign as Zylan; northerners were no longer considered barbarians. Besides, to insult her lineage would be to insult the family of Richard, the man soon to be crowned king.
“There is no need to leave out Prince Richard’s exploits.”
“What? Ah—my apologies, Countess.”
Whether she had guessed his thoughts or not, her words startled him more than they should have.
“In truth—”
“Then—”
“Please speak first, Your Highness.”
They had begun at the same moment; the countess yielded. Rio hesitated, then started again.
“The outcome was decided in a single battle, yet Prince Richard expended tremendous effort to bring that battle about.”
His initial stiffness soon gave way to fluency. He spoke of Richard’s many facets: the vast numerical superiority of Derim and the Eight Nations Alliance, the qualitative edge of Zylan’s forces, and the intricate political maneuvers required to overcome their numerical disadvantage. Rio particularly praised his brother’s support for the Apostolic See’s stance on Derim’s coastal dominion, as well as the donation of sacred relics plundered from allied territories.
“Thanks to those efforts, our Zylan army could exploit the divisions and weaknesses between Derim, the Eight Nations, and the alliance itself.”
“I see.”
“And in that final, decisive battle, Prince Richard’s performance was nothing short of magnificent. Our prince charged at the head of the formation with lance in hand. Even the renowned Sattran pikemen could not withstand the onslaught of the prince and his loyal knights. With his first charge he shattered their line—”
Rio raised his right arm and swung his elbow in demonstration.
“—and drove straight through the breach. I still cannot believe a single man created so great a rupture. Once through, he wheeled sharply to the flank and became both wedge and hammer. Some of the allied battalions moved to seal the gap; in that moment of confusion, other sections of their formation grew dangerously thin. Our knights seized the chance to open a second breach. Forced to guard against three spearheads at once—the archers on the high ground, Prince Richard, and our knights—the alliance could not bring its full strength to bear. In the end their chairman panicked and fled.”
Rio’s eyes sparkled like stars as he finished.
“Hehe.”
The countess laughed softly.
“Countess?”
“It’s nothing. I simply had a rather amusing thought.”
Rio looked puzzled. While he wondered what part of his story had struck her as funny, she waved a hand dismissively.
“Even with that face, you really are a man, Prince Rio.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Don’t misunderstand. I find your appearance genuinely beautiful.”
She studied his face with care. She liked what she saw. Rio’s features could not, even charitably, be called masculine. He was small—not unusually short for his age, but slight of build. His slender neck and shoulders, the delicate line of his waist, all harmonized with his eyes and expression. Though he clearly tried to project otherwise, Rio could not help but be adorable. His clear, full lips that refused to pout, his button nose, the round eyes that frowned yet still shone with intelligence, and those gracefully curved brows that no one would mistake for a man’s. It was not a manly face at all. It was the face of a beautiful girl.
And for that very reason she felt drawn to him. God will curse me, she thought. Then, almost at once: He already has.
An unwanted marriage was the expected fate of any noble heir, yet hers felt especially cruel. She thought, quite sincerely, how much better it would have been if Prince Rio had been the one she was to wed.
“Please don’t tease me, Countess.”
“Ah, but you really are adorable, Prince Rio. It would have been far better if you had been the elder brother.”
She moved to sit beside him. Rio stiffened. The sweet scent rising from the nape of her neck brushed the tip of his nose. He spoke slowly.
“Is this an attempt to seduce me, Countess?”
“Does it feel that way?”
“If not, what is it? A conspiracy of treason?”
Rio fixed her with a cold stare.
“If you are seeking another claimant to the throne, I must tell you that you have chosen the wrong man.”
Not a trace of performance colored his eyes. In the end she withdrew with a playful smile.
“Ah, don’t misunderstand.”
Contrary to her true feelings, she showed him a warm smile she had never once offered Richard.
“It is simply that Prince Richard is not to my taste.”
Rio’s gaze softened at her words.
“Even so…”
He hesitated.
“Even so, you will soon be married. I ask that you live in harmony with my brother.”
“When I have already said he is not to my taste.”
The countess felt troubled—not only because she spoke against her heart, but because Rio’s earnest expression was almost unbearably endearing. She wanted, at that very moment, to stroke his cheek. She might have done so had the prince not stepped closer and spoken first.
“If not for affection, can you not at least show him the respect due a king?”
Sadness flickered in the eyes that met hers.
Such expressive features, she thought. She held his gaze a moment longer, then looked away.
“Very well.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“That does not mean I will obey Your Highness’s words to the letter.”
“Pardon?”
Startled, Rio took another step toward her. The countess returned to her dressing table and resumed her adornment. Watching him in the mirror, she said, “Nor does it mean I will disobey. Only that I cannot do so immediately.”
“Pardon?”
She gave the startled reflection a small smile.
“A man as perceptive as Your Highness must know how strong the human heart is. Strong enough that mere thoughts cannot easily command it.”
“Ah…”
“Until now I have felt no fondness for Prince Richard, the man who will soon be king. Yet it is my fate. I must accept it. Two people cannot be allowed to ruin both God’s blessing and Zylan.”
“Thank you, Countess.”
“And—”
Her preparations were complete. As she rose, Rio began, “Ah, allow me to escort you once more—”
“No. Will you not yield that honor to me, Prince Rio?”
“Your Majesty Philip?”
Rio whirled in surprise. Philip winked and smiled at him.
“But Your Majesty is a prisoner of Zylan!”
“And the place of detention is Venterum Castle.”
“It is Venterum.”
“Is it? Zylan’s tongue is terribly difficult.”
King Philip approached the countess with a jest, offering his arm. She spoke as though to soothe Rio.
“The coronation will begin shortly. Please ensure you are not late, Your Highness.”
“As a prince and officer of the Kingdom of Zylan, I have both the right and the duty to manage and instruct prisoners properly. As a prisoner of Zylan, King Philip is obliged to obey that management and instruction.”
“And at the coronation I will marry Prince Richard. Both my father and my godfather are dead.”
“Ah.”
“Fortunately a noble kinsman was present in Venterum Castle. His Majesty Philip has kindly agreed to serve as my temporary guardian. I asked; he consented. That should suffice, should it not, Rio?”
At some point the formal address had vanished from her speech. Rio answered before he realized it.
“Yes, Countess.”
“Marion.”
“Pardon?”
“We will soon be family. Lady Marion will do. Though before long you will have to call me Queen Marion.”
“Yes, Lady Marion. I will see you shortly.”
Prince Rio answered with visible reluctance. King Philip tossed him a light remark as he left the room with her.
“I shall go on ahead, then, Prince Rio. Do not be late.”