There was no further prodding for information. The weak excuse she had given him was accepted with no resistance or pushback. She knew pretty, powerful men were naive, but she couldn’t believe that he’d really bought that. She’d not been telling a convincing enough lie to overturn his earlier conviction. No, he must not have asked, because like all powerful, pretty men, he didn’t care much what her plans were. Her wants, needs, desires… They were irrelevant. He’d not asked
her to marry him, he’d threatened her parents to hand her over. An agreement they had made all too willingly. If he’d ever cared about her plans, he would have asked her before he decided she would be his bride without ever having spoken to her.
His proposition was the least surprising thing of the evening, a natural place for a newly wedded prince’s mind to wander, but she couldn’t fight the ice that slid through her veins at the thought anyway. It was a burden that she had known would be hers to bear for some time, one she had only been able to delay rather than outright avoid. The muscles in her jaw tensed, the corners of her mouth turning downward ever so slightly.
“Very well then.” She wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea, but she resented the lack of say she’d had in the matters that had led her to this moment.
"Speech."
