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

Chapter Twenty-Four

"Behold! The deed is done!" Alec announced, bursting into the Prince's sitting room. Maren and the Prince had just finished a quiet and slightly strained dinner and were having brandy. They both worked too hard not to talk about her upcoming departure.

"Oh? And what deed is that?" the Prince asked.

"The deed in which I play matchmaker for my father—which, by the way, is a phrase I hope never to say again," Alec said, sitting down and helping himself to a glass of brandy.

"It's all settled, then?" she asked, with no little trepidation.

"It is. His Grace will be available to receive you in four weeks. He has already taken the liberty of sending a note to your parents asking them to come the week after you arrive, and then you'll have the wedding the following week," Alec explained.

"Oh, and I'll escort you to Worthingham, of course," he added.

Maren tried to ignore the feeling of panic beginning to rise within her, and she tried not to think too much about what that panic meant.

"Thank you, Alec," she said. She knew she sounded subdued. She felt subdued.

"Well, just promise me that you'll be a kind stepmother to me," Alec said with a wink.

Maren groaned, "I am two years younger than you and I swear by all the gods that if you so much as think of calling me 'mother' I will murder you."

"Maren, I assure you I wouldn't dream of calling you 'mother' or even 'stepmother," Alec said. "But, you should consider what you want your grandchildren to call you."

Maren clapped her hand to her forehead. "Grandchildren, by gods, I can't believe I let you talk me into this. Can't they just call me Maren?"

"They're children! They need to call you by a proper grandmother name," Alec insisted. "How do you feel about Granny Maren?"

"Horrible," Maren said.

"I called my grandmother Nana," the Prince offered.

"The two of you are not helping!" Maren insisted, but couldn't help but smile.

"How about Grandmama?" suggested Alec.

"Fine if I was ninety," she said.

For a time, they entertained themselves by coming up with increasingly ludicrous grandmother names for Maren. "GamGam Maren" was a favorite, but "Her Grace, the Duchess of Grammy" was one of the top choices as well. When they had finally run out of ideas and Alec had finished his brandy, he rose to leave. He kissed Maren on the cheek and clapped Donovan on the shoulder, and then wished them good night before leaving.

Maren and the Prince sat quietly for a few moments before she spoke.

"Well, I think I'll turn in," she said quietly and rose from her seat.

"Maren, wait," he said urgently.

She looked down at him, surprised. She could probably count on one hand the number of times he had called her by just her name and not "Lady Maren" or "my lady." She saw his eyes were full of anguish.

"Maren," he said again, more softly this time. "Don't go."

"To bed?" she asked, puzzled.

He rose from his chair and then took both her hands in his. Her pulse raced; he had never behaved this way.

Looking deep into her eyes, he said softly, "No. Don't leave. Don't go get married. Stay with me."

Her jaw dropped. This was the absolute last thing she expected. She sighed and turned away from him, walking aimlessly across the room. The Prince stood watching.