A Crown Of Blades(ARTK, Book 3)

Chapter 102-103

Juhna 15th, 3330 A.G

  "There is a man here for you, my lady." One of Marriota's handmaidens informed her, her head slightly bowed. As of late the highborn girl had been in a very bad mood, and she did not intend on being the one to set her off. "He claims he is a messenger of yours."

In half a moment Marriota Amalone had risen, abandoned her book and almost threw it over the balcony by accident. By some miracle her handmaiden managed to catch it while Marriota rushed out to the hallway as if her life depended on it; perhaps it did. For one who spent so much time with the lady, she'd learned very little:

She preferred to wear her hair up, when the occasion were appropriate. She couldn't care less about what she wore most of the time, had a ridiculous collection of sharp objects- most of which had been gifts from her uncle, the deceased king. And most of all she were hiding something- some big plan for dedor she did not feel comfortable sharing, even with the servants sworn to her service.

She were out the door before her handmaiden could take a second breath, nearly smacking into the messenger as she did so. "What in the hells took you so long? I was beginning to think you'd settled on the larger continent."

Marriota's messenger laughed, shook his head and began to nervously tap his foot at the same time. He'd been dreading this conversation since he were informed he'd need to have it; as there were no telling what the lady's reaction would be to what came after.

"I did what I could to get back as quickly as possible." He mumbled under his breath. "It was not such a simple affair; when I got there Tiffan Raynerus's husband... your cousin, I suppose- had killed himself. Something about a lover and Tiffan Raynerus were distracted with the funeral preparations-"

"I do not give two fucks whether my cousins is or isn't alive!" Marriota snapped, whisper yelling right out in the hallway. "What did Tiffan Raynerus say to my alliance proposal?"

The messenger gulped. He would run for her mother's room the second she turned her back, but first he had to...... "no, my lady. She said.... No."

He'd barely gotten the word out before she whipped around, the intention of stalking off somewhere unkown- and he saw that as his opportunity. Then something in the air had her turning back around, running to catch up with him as the direction he were heading was very clear.

She clamped a hand around his arm so hard he knew there would be bruises for weeks, forcing him to turn around.

"We still- I still have a chance." Her tone were desperate, almost pleading. It were so unlike her he would have sworn to be speaking to someone else; were he not staring right at her. "There are other armies. I must simply ask..... and in the meantime..... a queen needs a consort so she may produce heirs. And you... how much wealth were you born into? Would it not be preferable for your children to have so many coin bag stashed they'd never be able to spend it all? For the first born to be a queen or king?"

What she were implying......

If the messenger were a much younger man, he may have fallen for it. But the wisdom that came from aging, and from serving these highborn fuckers his entire life had helped him understand marriage to a commoner was not all so common. When it did happen, the commoner were usually an advisor of some sort- or they were a very young adult marrying their lover to anger their parents. This were neither of those scenarios.

And so the messenger simply snatched his own arm back, turned around and resumed his walk. He were bold in the assumption she'd simply let him go this time; as her mother's room were very close anyways- but what happened next.......