George
Chapter 11
I settled on a navy-blue chair in my father’s “crusade room” with a glass of brandy. My father chatted and paced the floor about the festivities of my mother’s birthday celebration, and I tuned him out. After Lady Dawson’s attendance last night, my mother had pissed me off and confirmed she was trying to get rid of Madelyn.
“So, what was it that you called me in for?” I asked, growing tired. “I promised Garrett we’d practice sparring for the tournament.” Father stopped and leaned an arm against the wooden mantel over the fireplace. A large painting of him, dressed in an elegant blue robe with his crown, hung above it.
“It’s Lady Stratford,” he replied, pausing.
I shrugged. “What of her?”
Father sighed. “You must stop courting her.” I removed the glass of brandy from my lips and furrowed my brows as he continued. “It isn’t that she isn’t lovely and kind, she is. I just don’t think she has the stomach to be a queen.”
“Is this you speaking, or Mother?” I asked.
He brought a glass decanter of brandy over from the liquor cart and refilled my glass with a generous amount. “Only me. Even though your mother has made it perfectly clear, in her own way, this is me talking to you. Father to son.”
“Madelyn is of good breeding; she would be the ideal woman for my children,” I said. “She could learn to fit the role of Queen.” Father sat across from me, propping his feet on the small table between us.
“It’ll take years for her to absorb it all. Plus, the people have to grow to love her, accept her as their Queen.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Isn’t that what you did with mother? She isn’t Tellivan.”
My father took a gulp of his brandy and smacked his lips. “And the people hate her,” he said bluntly. I gaped at him. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I found a solution.”
I narrowed my eyes, leery. “And that would be?”
“Ava.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“She would be perfect, George. She—”
“No.”
“She has already been made for the role,” Father put in. The phrase “royal chained” rolled in my head when I thought of ‘Ava’ and ‘Queen’ in the same sentence; it was how she used to describe it.
“She doesn’t want it,” I stated. “I’m not going to put this on her.”
Father crinkled his face. “Put this on her? It is an honor to be called upon to rule this beautiful country.”
I tsked. “I don’t know if I’d say that.”
My father stood, his gray hair disheveled. “Don’t be an ungrateful ass. Just because we are dealing with rebels in our country doesn’t mean it’s less worthy.”
I swirled the liquid in my glass, giving me something to do so that I didn’t lose my temper. “You brought her into this mess the moment you made her an heir. Now she has to watch her back.”
“I’ll stand by my decision of making her an heir,” Father ground out, pacing the room, across the faded line he’d put into the rug from prior rants. “I had my heart planned on this arrangement. Ava fits you like a glove, would keep you in line. The people love her; she loves them. I needed to make sure I had a second option. It’s horrible to think about, but…it’s what I have to think about.”
I bowed my head in agreement. “Ava would, indeed, be beneficial,” I conceded. “For the crown, not for her. I won’t break our deal.”
He stopped and turned toward me. “This was a courtesy. I wasn’t asking.”
“I’ll find someone else,” I retorted.
“Ava is right here,” Father insisted, pointing at the wall. “She is perfect, George. There won’t be—”
“I know where she is,” I snapped. “Father, we’ve done enough to her already. Let her live her life now.”
“I’ve done nothing to that girl but treat her as one of my own!” he barked, his face flushing.
“You put a fucking target on her back the day you signed on, making her the next heir!” I shouted, standing. “Is that how you take care of your own?”
My father halted and stared at me intently. He looked weary, years of worry taking its toll. His broad shoulders were now sagged, and the lines shown under his eyes from lack of sleep. “I gave Telliva a fucking promising future if you died. Not everything is about everyone’s feelings and how they will feel. She is the only person that I trust to run this country well.”
“Make Reddington the heir,” I retorted. “He’s my cousin, for Femme Fatale’s sakes!”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Father roared. “Do you want your mother to kill me with her bare hands? His mother tried to kill your mother all those years ago. Do you think giving him the throne would sit well with Cecilia?”
I dropped my glass, not giving a shit where it landed. “That’s your fuck up, not ours. And now Ava has to pay for it?”
Father strode toward me, clenching his fists. If my father was twenty years younger, he would have scared the shit out of me.
“Regardless of my fuck up, there are reasons why I did what I did. If I had it my way, I’d make your brother the king, but I can’t do that; your mother would agree. That’s Tellivan law. That leaves your bastard sister, Hara, out too. I’m an only child. You are the only legitimate child. Where does that leave me, George?”
I clenched my jaw. It left him with no one besides greedy Lords to eat up the throne.
Father set down his glass with a hard thud. “You have one week to find another bride, or Ava will be your Queen.”
“And if I flatly refuse?”
“Then she marries someone else.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because you don’t adhere to my requests, and I need to light a fire under your ass to make things happen.”
“What are the requirements?” I asked, feeding into this. This wasn’t going to happen if I had anything to do with it.
Father made for the door but didn’t turn around. “She must be wealthy, in good standing, sociably, and demand reverence.”
“I’ll start right away.”
He looked over his shoulder. “You better. A week isn’t shit.”
With that, he slammed the door. I sat back, sipping my brandy. I was fucked. Where the hell would I find another tolerable wife in such a short amount of time?
∞∞∞
I drained every ounce of energy I had on Garrett’s man. I needed to get it out—the anger, the frustration, everything that made me feel like I was about to fail Ava. I promised to keep her taken care of, but my father was being an asshole, and that asshole was a king.
I swung down hard with my sword against one of the Elite Eight; Max, I think his name was. He’d sent a few questioning looks at my brother, who stood there, arms crossed, watching us. Max peered at Garrett again, and now he was pissing me off. I veered my foot behind his knee and pulled, bringing Max to the ground.
“Keep your eyes on me, soldier,” I growled, stepping back to let him get up. Max stood, brushing dirt off his pants. The rest of the Elite Eight were jousting around us, kicking up dust.
“All right, great job, men,” Garrett shouted over the field. “Max, why don’t you go tell the men that message I passed along to you earlier.”
I threw down my sword, hearing it clink against the hard ground. Bringing my hands over my head to catch my breath, Garrett watched his men leave the practice grounds and turned to face me, eyebrows raised.
“Were you practicing for our next great attack?” he asked.
“No.”
“What was that then?”
“It was nothing,” I grumbled, walking over to a wooden bench. I picked up a white cloth and cleaned off my weapon.
“You going to tell me what happened, or do I get to guess?” Garrett inquired, crossing his arms, like he used to when we were kids.
“Father wants me to rid myself of Madelyn as a potential for my wife.” Garrett blinked, and I shrugged. “Are you going to say something or just stare?”
“I was waiting for the rest,” Garrett replied. “You didn’t fight my man like that just because you have to get rid of Madelyn.”
I sat down, setting my sword in my lap. “He is trying to make Ava my queen.” Garrett’s brows deepened, but he said nothing. I rolled my eyes and placed my hands on my knees. “Are you going to help me or not?”
Garrett shrugged. “What do you want me to do?”
I scowled at him. “Fucking help me. If Ava becomes Queen and her life is miserable…I’m going to make your life a living hell.” Garrett remained motionless. “Still not doing it for you? How about I make you my head of security and army. We’ll make Telliva your permanent residence.”
Garrett groaned. “I don’t want to get involved with this.”
“With Ava?”
“Yes, I’m not looking to get tangled up in her life.”
I let out a snicker. “Brother, you got knotted into this mess the day you assigned the Elite Eight to keep her safe.”
Garrett rubbed his forehead and groaned. “I did it to protect the girl.”
“Or because you cared for the girl.”