Prince of Lies [COMPLETED]

Chapter 24

Frederick paced the hall before the king's bedroom, ignoring the guards that stood watch at his door. Arabella and the others had been in that room for close to forty minutes, and his nerves had razored to a string. He couldn't guess what was going on in there, but he didn't like it. Gods only knew what King Undrel was saying to them. Would he aggravate three of the most formidable powers in the Star with just one conversation? If Tessande was powerful then Yessara must be—

The doors opened.

Queen Vellore strolled out, her elbow through Yessara's and her expression ponderous. "Let's stay awhile. I have much to think about, and there are people we should meet." Her dark eyes found Frederick's. "Will you and I have the chance to speak later?"

He bowed his head. "If you'd like to stay, I'll have the necessary arrangements made for you and Lady Yessara."

"Same room would be fine, thank you," Yessara said firmly though smiling. "We stay together. For now, I think Queen Vellore would like to enjoy the party. We'll breakfast in the morning and talk more then."

Arabella was next to come out, her focus fixed on Yessara. Both women viewed each other for several palpitations until Yessara nodded and guided Queen Vellore away.

The Gentle King exited his room next, his crown askew on his tangled hair, and he smiled at Arabella with affection. "I cannot believe that after all these years, I finally get to meet you, my dear."

She broke her gaze from Yessara's back and gave her attention to him. "It is so nice to see you, Undrel. I never thought that you and I would meet."

He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it, holding it against his lips for longer than appropriate. Moments of significance flowed between them, and Frederick felt the pressing need to slice through the silence. "Her Majesty and I should be getting back."

The king stood upright and stared into her face. "You know, there were threads where I convinced you to marry me. Only two possibilities."

Frederick jerked his jaw from side to side until a soft crick popped in his neck. He had to refrain from any violence against the Gentle King. He didn't even want to imagine a world where Arabella and Undrel married might have married.

She lifted her brow with amusement. "You've only proposed to me a thousand times. What stopped you from following those two threads?"

"You were never happy," he said softly. "It would have been selfish to keep you all to myself. Besides, Frederick and Bront would have never existed."

And Beatrice? Frederick wanted to roar. Her part was the most significant.

But the king never cared for Beatrice. Frederick suspected that he'd seen her future when she was young, settled on her purpose, then never allowed himself to grow fond of her. He always knew what was to come, and Frederick would hate him until the day he died because of it.

The smile on Arabella's face became strained, almost a cringe. "Well, thank the gods you made the right choice. But I must leave you now—unless, of course, you have reconsidered joining us for the ball?"

But Frederick knew the answer, for there were only two places the Gentle King ever dwelled. The first being was bedroom where anyone rarely bothered him, or the second being the council room when court was held—and even then, he hated leaving the safety of his den. Sometimes court had to be conducted in his bedroom to get him to make a decision.

"I must bid you goodnight," the Gentle King finished, reaching for her with outstretched arms. "Take care always, my dear. I am gladdened to have received this huge blessing."