“I ventured another question, an important one. “Should I agree to this, which of your party seeks my hand?” It must be Tristan, I knew it must be him. Chris whipped around, her mouth open. Hugh moved a step closer, ignoring my growing anger. I watched in surprise as he dropped to one knee reaching for my hand, eyes bright with the glow of self-confidence. “As king, the honor is mine to accept your hand in troth and make you my queen.” A quick glance showed Tristan, his face neutral, his fingers... pressed against the table. I started tapping my knife again to cover my embarrassment. Tristan wasn’t interested in me for himself, merely picking out a prize for his brother. Hugh looked up at me, perplexed that I hadn’t responded. “We’ve kept our promise. Everything has been done according to the rules. A High Priestess, your Mother Morigan, was contacted, a bride-price delivered. We then sent a message to your king, a golden token identifying you as chosen. And, lastly, a Mastin contacted to guide you.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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