But Max was right. If I died, there was nobody to take control of the country. There would be total chaos, and the ministers would fight amongst themselves. The democrats would win, without a doubt.
That was what they'd wanted when they sent the assassin. And maybe it was what they wanted in this situation. Maybe they wanted to get me into the open and give killing me another try.
"Very well," I said to him. "I won't go."
"Good," he said, visibly relieved. "I'll go assist Hardcourt, make sure he doesn't completely strip the estate of defenses."
"Give him what he needs," I said.
"As you wish," he said. "One last thing before I go. We followed up the leads on Nicolai Corvin but found nothing. He petitioned to be allowed into the estate."
"Grant his petition," I said. "As much as I dislike the man, he's still a minister. If he was cleared, he can join us."
"Very good." Max bowed and left.
I looked out the window, annoyed and frustrated. I wanted to get out there, but I knew my duty to the country was to stay here and to survive in order to lead them to victory.
My damn country was going to always come first, even if it was getting in the way of what I really wanted.
What I really wanted was Bryce. I'd give up war for her in a second.
But none of that mattered. I had a duty, and I was going to follow through with it. I finished my coffee, stood, and headed out to my morning briefings.
29
BRYCE
It was a day after the picnic with Trip, and I still hadn't heard a word from him.
Which was fine. I was reading the news, and I could tell that he was clearly incredibly busy. The rebels were making moves and the people in the capital city were very restless.
At least that was what I could find out in the English language news. I found a ton of press in Starklandian, but I couldn't get reliable translations. I even asked a servant, but he just shook his head and looked terrified.
I stretched out on my couch, tired and bored. It was around three in the afternoon, and I had no plans for the rest of the day. I figured I was going to watch some TV, maybe go for a walk on the grounds, or maybe even go for a swim. As it turned out, hanging out with nothing to do was boring, regardless of whether you were in a beautiful estate or just at home.
As I sat there, I heard a strange sound. I looked up and noticed something odd: a white envelope on the floor.
I walked over and picked it up. I tore it open and realized that it was an invitation to some kind of dinner tonight in the formal dining room. Apparently it wanted formal dress, too, though I didn't know what that meant.
And I didn't have any fancy clothes. I'd had just enough time to grab the bare necessities.
As I stood there trying to figure out what I could do about this, there was another knock at the door. I pulled it open and in walked two servants pushing a rack of dresses between them.
Maximillian followed them in. "For the dinner," he said, and then he dismissed the servants. They left quickly.
I stared at him. "I can pick one?"
"Of course," he said. "I should warn you, though. This is a formal thing for the local lords. It's a way to try to win more local support. I don't know if Trip will have much time for you."
I narrowed my eyes at him. I'd never gotten the sense that Maximillian liked me, but that was outright hostile.
"That's okay," I said. "I know Trip is busy."
"King Christophe," he corrected.
"Sure," I said, shrugging. "Whatever."
He pursed his lips. "Choose, please."
I looked over the dresses. They were all so beautiful, some sleek and tight and some layered and lovely. I picked through for a moment before pulling off a navy green dress with vintage-looking lace and beautiful layers.
"Good," Maximillian said. "Please don't be late." He pulled the dresses out of the room without another word.
I gaped after him. I wasn't even sure I wanted the dress, but apparently I was stuck with it. There were no second chances in Starkland as it turned out.
Shrugging, I smiled to myself and went into the bathroom to try it on. I hoped it was going to fit, though I suspected it would.
Trip was the kind of man to pay attention to that sort of thing.
I STEPPED out into the hallway, feeling good.
It took me about an hour to get dressed. I was ready in plenty of time, and I felt reasonably confident about how I looked. At least, as far as that went. I was never perfect, but I felt good enough.
The dress fit, at least.
"Honey," Dad said, coming toward me down the hall, "you look lovely."
"Thanks, Dad."
Lucy smiled. "Very pretty dress. Good color."
"Thank you." At least she was in a good mood.
The two of them were in their formal clothes, and I guessed they had servants bring them things as well. Lucy looked nice in a floor-length beige gown that offset her nice, dirty blond hair.
"Ready?" Dad asked.
"Let's go."
The three of us walked down the hallways and headed down the stairs. Some servants spotted us and took us the rest of the way to the formal dining room.
It was a lot bigger than I had expected. It was probably more of a ballroom than a dining room. There were at least fifty people milling about, and we entered into the fray knowing nobody and not even speaking the language.
We managed to find our table, marked with nametags. We were seated with other ministers we didn't recognize. I looked around the room, but I couldn't find Trip anywhere.
We sat down, and instantly Lucy began to talk to the older woman on her right. The woman was clearly some kind of baroness or countess or something like that. She wasn't really interested in Lucy, but her grasp of English wasn't the best, so she probably didn't know how to get herself out of her situation. Lucy, for her part, didn't care who listened or spoke English, so long as she could speak.
Suddenly, there was a small buzz of energy, and I saw Trip walk into the room. He instantly started smiling and shaking hands, and I felt a pang of excitement. I hadn't seen him since we returned back to the estate and dismounted, and I had been yearning to finally see him again.
But he never looked over at me. He made the rounds of the room, but he never bothered to even look in my direction. He looked so damn handsome, though a little tired, but he wasn't giving me the time of day.
Which was fine. It didn't matter. Maximillian had warned me about this, though I had assumed he was just being a pompous asshole.
Dad leaned toward me as everyone began to filter toward their seats. "So, do you know any Starklandian yet?" he asked.
"Nothing," I said. "You?"
"Nope. Sounds like barking to me."
I smiled. "It kind of does. Barking and grunting."
"It's not a beautiful language, whatever it is."
I laughed and felt a little bit better. As people found their seats, Trip stood up at the front of the room and began to speak.
Entirely in Starklandian, of course.
I didn't understand a word of it, but he looked impassioned. People seemed genuinely into whatever he was saying, and by the time he finished speaking, the applause was heartfelt and loud.
I glanced at Dad and he made a face, like he was very impressed.
"Wonderful speech, don't you think?" Lucy asked the woman next to her, who nodded politely. I stifled a smile.
When Trip was finished speaking, he nodded to the crowd and then left the room. I watched him go, curious, but everyone else went back to their conversations. Servants appeared from the sides of the room with food, and dinner began.
But Trip was still gone. I did my best to try to enjoy the meal, but Trip had left without so much as even looking at me or acknowledging me. I was tempted to text him, but I realized that would come off pretty bad. I was sure he was just playing the politics game and couldn't break character to come talk to me. I was sure it was meaningless.
The meal was lovely and rich, all traditional Starklandian food. Conversations drifted around us, including at our own table, but it was all in Starklandian, except for Lucy's prattling, of course. Dad, for his part, noticed that I wasn't in the mood to chat, so he didn't force me.
After the first course, people began to mill about the room again. I half turned in my chair when a man came toward me, a sleazy man with a creepy smile.
"Bryce Koch?" he asked.
I nodded. "Yes?"
"Hello, dear. My name is Nicolai Corvin. The king speaks very highly of you."
I put on a smile, despite how uncomfortable he made me. I'd never seen this man before and couldn't remember his name, but if he was at this dinner, he was important. I couldn't be rude and risk messing things up for Trip. Besides, this was the first person to actually seek me out all night.
"That's flattering," I said. "It's nice to meet you, Nicolai."
We shook hands. His grip was weak, and he held my fingers for far too long before dropping them.
"How do you find our country, dear?" he asked.
"It's lovely," I answered.