The Heart of a Wielder (Book One of The Wielders Trilogy) ✔️

Chapter Twenty-Three

Donovan resolved not to think of the end of the night before. He absolutely only would think about the pleasant evening with his friend, and not how badly he had wanted to kiss her or how awful it felt when she wrenched away from him. He was completely focused on the morning council meeting, and it did not even cross his mind once how much he loved being so close to her. And at no point in time while he was reading the various reports on his desk did he think about how heartbreakingly beautiful she had been, and how happy it had made him feel to be with her at the ball.

He would not think those things because those were dangerous things to think about. He needed to focus on making arrangements for his friend's future. Any other thoughts were an unwelcome distraction.

And it wasn't as if she would ever feel anything even remotely amorous toward him. Certainly not after she ran away from him at the end of the night. But perhaps...maybe she did? He could have sworn—

"No!" he told himself out loud. That was not a productive line of reasoning. He absolutely would not entertain the notion. The best thing for Mar—Lady Maren, he corrected himself—was to leave the palace as soon as possible. If there had ever been a time for ...amorousness...it had long since passed.

No, all that was left was to see her safely away in another corner of the kingdom. And then he would marry someone else. And that would be fine. Very fine. Completely fine.

Vaguely, Donovan wondered how many times he would have to tell himself it would be fine until it was true. At least a hundred more, most likely.

He was supposed to visit her that afternoon, so they could go walk in the gardens, but he decided he would talk to her about the Duke first. He didn't like it, but it had to be done.

She in her sitting room that afternoon, reading. He could tell she had been riding that morning. Her hair was still beautifully windswept, and he made a conscious effort not to notice how lovely she was and ignored how much he would like to go riding with her again. He loved that she loved riding horses. He loved that she could still do it here at the palace, and he loved —

Gods, he had to stop.

"I know we had planned to go to the gardens, but I need to talk to you about something," he said.

"Oh... all right...have a seat," she said, gesturing at the sofa opposite her own.

"It's time, well, really, it's long past time to consider arrangements for your future," he said.

She nodded. Did she look a bit grim?

"Of course, it's for the best."

Donovan nodded. "I know it's stressful to have Kieran constantly breathing down your neck and as much as I hate to admit it, I cannot guarantee your safety....and, be that as it may; I have a suggestion, and if you're amenable to it, I believe it could be arranged rather easily. But, of course, if you'd prefer, I can make some other arrangement," he said, pointedly focusing on the words he needed to say and _not _his feelings about them.

"All right," she said, somewhat warily.

"Ah...well, there's a duke, he's unmarried, about two days from the Capital, so he isn't often at Court, he's a high-level commander in the military, and he's...older and already has several children...so likely there would be minimal...difficulties..." Donovan stifled the urge to groan and avoided looking directly at her. This had been far more awkward to explain than he had thought.

Lady Maren nodded, her face expressionless for the most part.

"Who?" she asked.

Donovan grimaced, he was not sure how she would react to that. "He's the Duke of Worthingham."