The Traitor's Daughter (Complete)

Part 44-A Proposal

 Zena thought she would die of apoplexy. How dare he propose marriage on these grounds? Did he have no sense or sensibility? Did he really think that she would jump with joy at his affront of a proposal?

She stayed tight-lipped, not answering him. His proposal did not deserve the dignity of a reply, according to her.

"Say something, Zena," he persisted. "Do you agree to be my wife-consort?"

Zena glared at him, fuming till she expected smoke to come out of her ears.

"Certainly not, Your Majesty. You can leave now...." she bit out.

Luke was flabbergasted. Any woman would jump at the chance of marrying him. Was this woman mad?

"Are you a fool, Zena? Don't you understand what I'm offering you?" he asked, in disbelief.

"I understand very well, Luke. You're offering me a lifetime of misery. I would sooner marry Jack, the farmhand than to marry a man like you," she said firmly.

He pounced on the name.

"Jack? Is he the fellow who brings you flowers?" Luke asked, a tinge of something akin to jealousy in his tone.

Zena rose and went to the vase containing the chrysanthemums. She stroked the petals of a flower.

"He brings these fresh blossoms every day. I guess he's in love with me," she confessed, wistfully.

"You can't marry him under any circumstances, woman. He will rue the day he marries you. You're carrying the royal bloodline."

"I care naught for your bloodline, Your Majesty. Do you forget that I'm Victor Martin's daughter?"

"I'm ready to overlook that fact for the sake of the child," he said pompously.

Zena almost burst out laughing. Just who did he think he was?

She turned to him with a saccharine sweet smile.

"Am I expected to bow in gratitude at your offer, Your Majesty? You're wrong if you think that. I reject your offer of marriage. Please leave me alone. I can bring up my own child very well. I wouldn't want him to be like you, anyway."

Luke stared at her, stunned and speechless. Then drawing himself to his considerable height, he spoke in a tight voice.

"You'll regret refusing me, Zena Martin. I shall see to it," he threw at her, before walking out.

Zena sank down on her bed, as her trembling legs refused to support her any longer. The brave front she had put up in his face crumbled and she burst into tears. Why, God, why? Just when she was learning to be happy again, Luke had to return to her life. He was still the same man. The same handsome face and regal bearing. The same masculine scent which drove her weak with longing. The same arrogant and heartless man, who cared naught for her feelings. Nothing had changed. He had not once said that he loved her. Shouldn't that be the only basis of marriage? He just wanted his heir, not its mother. She had no regret in having refused him.

Luke walked into the parlor like a bear with a sore head. The nerve of the woman! Did she not know just what he had offered her? A chance to belong to the royal family of Zorbia. Women would give their all to get that.

He found Dave and Martin deep in conversation.

"Did you talk to her, sire?" Dave asked him as he walked in.

"Yes," he answered in a monosyllable. "Have you decided to come with us, Martin?"

Victor stood to face his monarch.

"Sire, my wife, Jane is expecting our first child. She is, understandably, a little fearful. I'll come as soon as she gives birth to our child."

"You are welcome to bring her to St. Helene. We have good doctors over there," Dave suggested.

"I'll have to speak to her about it, sire, but I promise to come at the earliest," Victor promised.

Luke nodded. That was the best he could get. There was nothing else left to do. He turned to go, then stopped at the door.

"Tell Zena, that she hasn't heard the last from me," he threw behind his back, a threat in his voice.

Victor acknowledged the threat for what it was. The prince was obviously displeased with his conversation with his daughter. He wouldn't sit quietly. It was left to see what he would do. But he knew that Zena could be equally stubborn. It would be an interesting battle of wills.

The men departed the way they had come. Victor and Jane watched them go. Jane looked at her husband.

"What did they mean by inviting you back, my lord?" she asked her husband.

"It means just one thing, Jane, that I'll be given a royal pardon and my estates would be returned to me. They would once again give me back my post in the army."

"Wouldn't that be wonderful, Victor? It is what you have wished for, all along."

"Yes. At one time, I did wish for it, but now, I'm not so sure. I have come to value the rustic life."

Jane smiled at that.

"You weren't born to be a farmer, my lord. You must accept your estates back. The livelihoods of so many people depend on it," Jane argued.

Victor thought for a moment.

"I guess, you're right. I'll think it over and decide," he said, but he knew that he would be going.

"I must look in on Zena. I hope she's alright," Victor said, anxious for his daughter.

"Yes, you do that. The poor girl has had a raw deal," Jane agreed.

Victor found Zena sitting on the window seat, staring into nothingness, her tears dried.

She rose and rushed into his arms when she saw him.

"He asked me to marry him, Father," she told him, her eyes watering anew.

"What did you say? Did you accept his offer, my child?"

"I told him I would prefer to marry a villager than him."

Victor nodded.

"He left behind a threat, Zena. He won't let the slight go."