Betrothed by Wanda Wiltshire Page A

this was going. ‘Marla, my father never knew his betrothed.’
    ‘How come?’
    ‘She did not answer his call.’
    ‘Why wouldn’t she?’
    After a brief pause he said, ‘She was not alive to answer.’
    ‘Your poor father.’ I knew firsthand the strength of the betrothal connection—dream or not, the thought of not having Leif made me ache.
    ‘You may not feel much sympathy for my father when you hear what happened as a result,’ Leif said, his voice quiet as he peered into the forest on the other side of the river.
    I watched him, waiting.
    His eyes, when they returned to mine, seemed full of shadows. ‘When you told me the names of your parents, they were familiar to me. I recalled a day some years before when I heard themwhispered amongst three of my father’s most high guard. That night over dinner I asked my father who Finelle and Tobias were. He gave me no answer but told me to repeat what I had heard.’
    ‘What did you hear?’
    ‘Mere fragments—something about them being trouble for the king. It was more the clandestine nature of the conversation that captured my attention, and the guards’ fear when they realised my presence. Had they not reacted so, I’m sure I would not have noticed the incident. Anyway, not wanting to get them into strife, I told my father I’d heard nothing really. Even so, the next day the men were absent from the guard.’
    ‘He got rid of them?’
    Leif indicated that he had, then said, ‘So, with no intention of confronting my father after his previous reaction, it was no easy task to find one with knowledge of your parents.’
    ‘But you managed?’
    ‘I did, and the conversation was very revealing. I learned that after my father inherited this kingdom he began the search for a marriage partner. Until that time he’d been content with the . . . attention he received from his father’s female subjects.’
    ‘You’re talking about the romantic kind of attention, right?’
    ‘I am.’
    ‘But didn’t your father’s subjects have betrothed partners of their own?’
    Leif shifted a little as though he were trying to get comfortable. ‘Not all,’ he said eventually. ‘In any case, as a new king, my father needed more—he needed a queen. Not only to give him the son who would continue the royal line, but also to support him in his new role. A Fae king is absolute ruler; it is a relentless task and consuming. He needed a young woman, one who had not yet had her pregnancy. Young, unattached Fae do exist for one reason or another but, as king, my father did notwish to be limited in his choice. He believed he had . . . certain rights.’ His eyes searched my face, wondering if I was picking up his meaning. I was.
    ‘He thought he could have whoever he wanted.’
    ‘Yes.’ Leif sighed. ‘Growing up prince made him well-used to having his way.’
    ‘Are you used to having your way too?’
    ‘To a degree, I suppose I am,’ Leif admitted. ‘Anyway, my father rejected each of the unattached girls presented to him. None of them appealed. And then he met your mother. He first saw her when he was visiting one of the local markets and from what I have been told, was instantly captivated. She was sixteen and must have already known her betrothed. Had she not, my father could easily have made her his own.’
    ‘How?’ If she felt any of what I felt for Leif, I didn’t see how it would be possible.
    ‘There is only one thing that can distract a female from her betrothed—make her question her commitment to him. Two things actually, one is the prince and the other is a king—particularly her own king. There is not a fae woman born, partnered or single, who, when in his presence, can resist the desires of her king.’
    ‘I don’t think the men of Faera could be happy about that.’
    ‘Perhaps not, but it is expected and accepted nonetheless. Besides, a woman might go her whole life and be in the presence of her king but once, and it is rare for her to come