Shall I prepare another snifter of brandy, Your Majesty?” one of the footmen asked the king.

“I think that will be all for tonight,” the king replied, raising his hand to wave the silver tray off. “Thank you.”

The footman bowed his head before exiting the parlor, where the royal family was relaxing with a quiet evening after dinner.

It felt like so long since Merrick’s family had a free night to spend together that he was quite enjoying his time, lounging with his sketch pad on the sofa. His mother was softly playing chopsticks on the piano, something she normally did when she had idle time, while his father was poring over some ledgers at the small wooden desk. Marjorie was playing a game of solitaire at the table, more than likely daydreaming about her new handsome suitor named Charles. She had come home dreamy-eyed from her second outing with him, and Merrick couldn’t help poking fun at his sister, who was normally a levelheaded cynic. Apparently, this did not apply to matters of the heart.

As he listened to his mother describe an upcoming charity event for fallen soldiers in war-torn countries, Merrick looked down at the fresh sheet, where he’d begun randomly sketching the outline of a nose and lips. Though it wasn’t totally arbitrary or innocent. Cassius had the day off today because Merrick had no major events on his schedule, yet he still remained on Merrick’s mind.

Since the royal family only employed one valet or lady’s maid per member, time off could prove tricky. But Cassius had absolutely earned the day to travel home and spend time with his family. Merrick had even stupidly suggested that he use one of the royal motorcars to make the journey easier. He’d more than once made the same offer to Geoffrey, whose gaze had briefly lit up at the notion of driving one of the two-seat roadsters before he declined. And just as Merrick had suspected, Cassius insisted on walking to the train station for the hour-long journey to the next stop. Merrick yearned to go with him, not only curious to learn more about his life, but also to escape for a little while. If only he could blend into the background and pretend he was a commoner of Evergreen for the day.

It’d been a couple of weeks since the bath incident with Cassius, and to say that Merrick was more self-conscious than ever would be an understatement.

Cassius had stepped into the role of valet seamlessly, keeping Merrick on schedule for the most part, dressing and driving him to meetings and luncheons, but they never scratched below the surface again, idly discussing the weather as if they were mere acquaintances. And Merrick supposed in a way they were, despite having shared long blocks of time together. But Merrick longed to know more about the proud man who hoped to provide generously for his family—like his affinity for horses and whether he’d recently visited the stables with his friend Valor. Except, if Cassius knew he’d eavesdropped on the two of them that one evening, Cassius might consider leaving his employ or asking for a demotion, so Merrick stayed silent on all subjects.

Merrick flipped back a few pages in his pad to his drawing of his recent trip to the orphanage—he’d embellished the sketch with snow forts and merriment, and even included some of the orphaned children he looked forward to visiting again. He’d loved seeing the mischief in their eyes during the snowball fight as they were allowed to run wild and free, and he hoped they wouldn’t soon forget it.

He longed to make the children smile again. Cassius too, like he did while chucking snow and on the ride home. Or to have another discussion regarding just about anything, since Cassius was smart and would offer a point of view he hadn’t quite considered. But he didn’t know how to break the ice between them again…to lessen the awkwardness.

He’d hoped maybe Geoffrey might be able to bridge that gap as he had when Cassius first began as his understudy, but the family had gotten word that Geoffrey’s illness had taken a turn for the worse, and given his age, it was best that he began his retirement now so he could make a full recovery. Merrick certainly couldn’t begrudge him that, not even if some days he wished he’d never laid eyes on the footman named Cassius or agreed to the promotion. Not because he disliked the footman turned valet, but because he felt so unsettled around the man.

Merrick’s fingers now moved in sweeping arcs as he sketched other parts of the familiar face he’d memorized from days of close proximity—his arching eyebrows, slightly crooked nose, chiseled jawline. He’d have Geoffrey’s likeness down too, if he ever chose to draw it.

When his mother rose to join him on the sofa, he hastily turned to a blank page, afraid she would ask to see some of his work. Then his gaze lifted to Harris, who had stepped inside the room to offer the family tea.

The topic of conversation had changed to the man courting Marjorie. Merrick’s sister was two years his junior, but she was considered in her prime to marry as well, given that childbearing years could be fleeting for some.

“When will you see him again?” his mother asked as Marjorie’s cheeks stained. Merrick had the urge to lean over and whisper something irreverent about Charles to make her blush even further, but he’d save it for when they were out of earshot of their parents. Merrick had seen Charles at several events, as he came with good standing. He’d found him polite and attractive, maybe slightly too proud for his tastes, but he wouldn’t share such a thing with Marjorie unless she asked.

“We’re to meet at his polo match next weekend. If you’d like to accompany me, you may,” she added, and her mother smiled at her in a knowing way. Marjorie would never make such a request unless she was interested. She’d been known to snub her nose at many suitors over the years.

“So,” his mother began, turning her affectionate gaze on him.

Merrick squirmed uncomfortably. He recognized that same tone of voice she used when she was about to discuss grandchildren or weddings or suitable ladies for him.

“We are considering organizing a masquerade dance in the east ballroom,” Merrick’s mother remarked, to his surprise. The castle boasted four such rooms for large events, and the east ballroom was his favorite because it faced the terrace and the stables.

“What sort of dance?” Marjorie asked before Merrick could squeak the question out. Her eyes flashed warily to his.

“A celebration of the winter solstice, of course,” she replied, motioning with her hands to show the grand scale of such an event.

The winter solstice was in two months’ time and one of the most important events in Evergreen, mainly because it marked the beginning of longer days in the sun. The wintry weather broke for a few weeks between April and June, lending to some warmer hours in the day, and the outdoor markets would be filled with fresh produce grown in greenhouses along the countryside. The less chilly weather also brought about the tourist season, since Evergreen prided itself on being one of the world’s greatest providers of gemstones, some of which could be found in vast caverns in the far reaches of the country. During the thaw, residents and visitors alike flocked to the thermal springs located in the hidden caves close to where the minerals were mined.

“But maybe also…a different way for Merrick to meet potential suitable matches.”

Merrick immediately tensed, the idea of a jubilant celebration with food and wine now making ice run through his veins.

“Mother,” Merrick said, grimacing. “I don’t know if…”

“Don’t look so dreary, my child. There’s bound to be a lady you fancy at the ball, unless you meet one sooner.”

“What if I don’t?” he asked through clenched teeth, shifting his art pad from his knees to his side, abandoning his drawing altogether.

“There are plenty of royalty members who’ve remained bachelors,” Marjorie butted in, giving her two cents, her eyes flashing at Merrick.

“Your brother is well aware of his duty,” his father suddenly spoke up from his desk, where he’d finally shut the large ledger he’d been eyeing. “It’s one thing to sow your wild oats and quite another to put off providing your family an heir.”

“I’m not putting it off, Father.” Merrick sighed and then sat up a little straighter. “Not everyone can achieve what you and Mother have. You were lucky.”

The siblings had heard the story countless times about how their parents had their marriage arranged but fell in love anyway, and Merrick couldn’t help feeling like it had somehow become the gold standard for royal unions. He would never in a million years achieve that because he could never be in love with a woman. But what did he know of love? He’d only ever experienced infatuation. The kind and decent thing was that the king and queen were allowing their children some say in the decision-making process—that is, as long as the suitors met certain criteria.

“You’ll be lucky too,” his mother remarked, patting his hand.

“What if he’s not?” Marjorie insisted, and Merrick tried to catch her eye to make her drop the topic. “What about the Duke of Lexington, for example?”

Merrick threw his sister a warning look as sweat broke out across his brow.

The Duke of Lexington had never married, and Merrick had seen him at the bathhouse on more than one occasion. Neither would ever reveal the other in royal company, but he hated that Marjorie was now bringing it up to try and make her argument. It wouldn’t fare well.

His father waved a dismissive hand. “You know as well as I do that the duke is sowing a different kind of oat—as some men do.”

Marjorie placed her hands on her hips. “I happen to believe people are born that way.”

“That might well be true,” his father conceded, and Merrick released the breath he was holding. “But were the duke next in line to rule a kingdom, such a thing would be unacceptable.”

Merrick found he couldn’t speak, let alone breathe very well; his pulse was battering so hard in his ears. What his father wasn’t saying was that such actions were not only considered unnatural, but also improper for someone of Merrick’s standing. Rules would always be different for him. And that seemed entirely incongruous to Merrick’s very nature. Even though he had little choice in the matter as far as his position was concerned, his leaning toward men was as innate to him as breathing.

Except in order for Evergreen to thrive, to remain prosperous and relevant in world matters, its citizens needed to produce future generations, something the newest chief consul seemed to fret about regularly. It was his job to keep the royal family informed of such concerns as heads of state, even though they did not hold positions in government.

“You know as well as we do, dear,” his mother added, “that an heir is absolutely required.”

Merrick sighed. It always came down to that. Producing an heir. The sole purpose of the royal family was to safeguard the sanctity of the monarchy…

“At this rate, Marjorie might arrive there long before me,” Merrick croaked out, finally finding his voice. “Which would be lovely—I’d like to dote on an adoring niece or nephew.”

“Do you not desire children of your own someday?” His mother’s concerned gaze fell on him like a looming shadow, and he wanted nothing more than for the conversation to finally end.

“Of course I do!” Merrick replied fervently and watched as his mother’s shoulders finally relaxed. “In fact, I wish more people considered adoption. Those children at the—”

“Your attachment to the orphanage has always been so admirable,” his mother interrupted, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s how I know you will make a good father someday.” She leaned toward him conspiratorially. “And a good husband.”

Merrick’s stomach churned, but he didn’t dare dispute his mother, not if he wanted to leave the conversation unscathed. He’d definitely have a word with Marjorie later. He knew her intentions were good, but soon enough, his parents were bound to become suspicious.