The Princess and the Peer(91)

He laid down the letter opener. “Do I need to command you?”

She met his gaze with a direct look of her own. “Yes. I believe that you do.”

His shoulders drew tight. “In that case, then, yes. It is my command that you marry King Otto.”

Her blood turned to ice, hope dying inside her like a candle flame that had been abruptly snuffed out. Her limbs weren’t cold any longer; she could no longer seem to feel them at all.

“As you wish, Your Highness,” she said in an emotionless voice. She stood, careful to hold herself properly and respectfully erect. “May I be excused now?”

“Yes, go on, Emmaline,” he said, his mouth turned down with obvious sadness.

After a curtsy, she turned and walked slowly from the room.

“How did it go?”

“What did he say?”

Mercedes and Ariadne asked their questions at the same time, both girls hurrying toward Emma the moment she returned upstairs to her suite of rooms. But one look at her face and the two of them fell silent.

“Oh no,” Mercedes said, her eyes wide with distress.

“Why, that heartless brute. Obviously, he’s refused to release you.” Ariadne set her fists on her hips. “I’m going downstairs right now to tell him exactly what I think of his—”

“You’re not going to tell him anything,” Emma interrupted, her voice firm yet strangely lifeless. “You will not speak to my brother on this subject.”

Ariadne’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, her arms falling to her sides. “But—”

Emma moved away. Taking a seat on the rose damask sofa, she reached for her embroidery.

After a moment, Ariadne and Mercedes approached and sat across from her.

Emma eased a double strand of green silk floss through the eye of her needle and stitched it into place.

“Well,” Ariadne said, “we shall simply have to think of another means of—”

“No,” Emma said, cutting her off again.

“But, Em—”

“I said no.” Gazing up, she met the other young woman’s green eyes. “I asked and he refused. It is at an end.”

“But—” Ariadne began.

“Will you stop saying that word?” Emma replied, real emotion finally creeping into her voice. “I told you it’s over.”

Ariadne crossed her arms. “So you are just going to marry King Otto without a whisper of complaint?” she shot back, a mutinous thrust to her lower lip. “What about your Nick? I thought you loved him.”

The blood drained from Emma’s cheeks, her fingers trembling against her sewing. “You go too far.”

Ariadne lowered her gaze, clearly chagrined. “Forgive me. It is only that I care about you and want you to be happy.”

“Then respect my wishes. Let this be, Arie.”

Silence fell between them; then, finally, Ariadne gave a begrudging nod.

Mercedes leaned forward. “I’m so sorry. We all had such high hopes. I feel terrible now for suggesting… well, for encouraging you to speak with the prince. It’s all my fault—”

Emma shook her head. “No, the question needed to be asked. Now it has been. Now I know.” Taking up her needle again, she returned to her embroidery.

Fewer than five minutes passed before she sighed and set her stitchery aside. “I am tired,” she said, her voice emotionless and half dead once more. “I believe I shall take a nap.”

Without looking at either of her friends, she stood and left the room, closing the door firmly behind her. Inside her bedchamber, she kicked off her slippers, then stretched out across her bed, dragging the edge of the counterpane up and over herself.

Rolling into a ball, she squeezed her eyes tightly closed and willed herself to sleep.

Outside in the sitting room, Ariadne and Mercedes had not moved from their places on the sofa. They sat listening until they heard only quiet from the other side of the bedchamber door.

Shoulders visibly drooping, Mercedes sighed. “I still feel responsible,” she murmured softly. “If only I had not urged her to proceed—”

“She would be what?” Ariadne asked. “Promised to wed a man she’s never met and doesn’t want to marry? I cannot see how anything has changed. No, if you want to blame someone, blame that coldhearted bas—that brother of hers. He might as well have beaten her. I suppose he did in a way, only with words not fists. I’ve never seen her brought so low.”

“I know. I was shocked when I first saw her.” Mercedes twisted her fingers together in her lap. “She’s despondent now, but perhaps King Otto will not be as bad as we imagine. Maybe he’ll turn out to be amazingly kind and interesting. Maybe Emma will even like him.”