It was big enough for a banquet table but was, as usual, set up with a couch and two chairs by the fire and a table in the middle of the room. On the walls hung memorabilia of my mother’s family – pictures and awards and newspaper cuttings. It was a room usually reserved for when the family came to visit, but Pietr used it for other important guests.
“I’ll get another chair brought in,” Pietr said. “And have them set another place.”
“Have you got time to join us?” I asked him.
“Let me go and see,” he laughed, then ushered Amelie out of the room and left us to it.
“If I’d known you’d set this up, I wouldn’t have crashed the party,” Kostin said.
I shook my head. “I appreciate that, but it’s fine. We have our whole lives to go on dates. Don’t we, darling?”
Tati laughed as she snuggled in under my arm. “That we do. Now tell me about this place. About Pietr and Amelie.”
I pointed to the pictures on the wall. “This was our grandfather’s grandfather’s winery,” I explained, helping Tati out of her coat. “On Mother’s side.”
“He was the younger son of a lord and much preferred working the land than riding horses or shooting game,” Kostin continued as we took our coats off as well. “Of course, there is plenty of game and so he figured he could make a bit of money leasing game and equipment out to nobles and people with too much money.”
“Over time, the restaurant was added because people wanted to eat,” I added.
“And now there are cottages to stay up here as well,” Kostin finished.
Tati looked around again. “It’s so…homely. Down to earth.”
I nodded and shared a smile with my brother. “Dunwich has become somewhat of a…refuge for us. We don’t have to be quite so…formal here.”
“We can relax,” Kostin agreed.
“It’s like a second home in many ways.”
“And Pietr and Amelie?” Tati pressed.
“Pietr is Mother’s nephew,” Kostin started then looked at me.
I took a breath and licked my lips. “Amelie…” I sighed. “Amelie is the daughter of a woman Pietr loved a long time ago. No one really knows if she’s his or not, but he took Amelie when her mother died in childbirth. Four years later, we still don’t know and, though he would have you believe he is indifferent to her, he loves Amelie far more than many fathers are capable.”
Tati looked at me and I saw the cheeky smile on her face.
“What?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “Nothing. I just thought it was quite adorable how she literally ran into your arms.”
“Mitya is by far her favourite,” Kostin told her. “It frustrates Nico to no end.”
Kostin and I took her around the room, showing her pictures of our extended family as Pietr’s staff brought in more chairs and re-set the table, offering their congratulations on our engagement as they moved in and out of the room.
Finally, Amelie charged back in, full of life as always, followed by Pietr who dropped into a chair and reached for the bread basket.
I dropped into a chair across from him as Amelie grabbed Kostin and Tati’s attention. “Busy day?”
He nodded. “It’s been mayhem. We had a hunting party in over the weekend who were supposed to leave last night, but decided to extend their trip by a whole week more.”
“You could have told me it was inconvenient,” I chastised.
Pietr waved my concern away. “No. It’s fine. To be honest I was looking forward to it being an excuse to take a break.” He gave me his shit-eating grin. “You know how the staff make me relax more when you’re here.”
“And if I’d brought my fiancée here to wine and dine her, and christen every part of this room for you?”
He snorted. “I would have locked the door and let you have at it.” He waved a piece of bread at me. “She’s good for you.”
“I suppose.”
“She’s good for the country.”
“You really think so?”
He nodded. “Yes. Or I would definitely have told you there was no way I could fit you in this morning.”
I smiled at him. “Thank you for that. I was hoping for…a couple of hours alone with her.”
We sat in contemplative silence for a moment.
“I never thought of you as the falling in love type, cousin,” Pietr said as he popped a piece of bread into his mouth.
I looked over to where Tati and Kostin were walking with Amelie as the little girl pointed to the pictures on the wall. “I wasn’t.”
“Are you going to give me some nonsense about when the right one comes along?” he chuckled, but there was no humour in it.
I shrugged. “To you? No. I wouldn’t dare.”
“Damn right, you wouldn’t.” His chuckle was more humoured this time as he threw a piece of bread in my direction.
“I’m just saying–”
“You can keep it to yourself.” Pietr poured himself some wine and passed me the bottle. “Besides,” he waved his hand towards Tati. “I don’t need you telling me anything. I can see it. Any idiot can see it.”
“And what is it any idiot can see?” I asked.
“That she has you totally whipped.”
“Hey!” I shook my head, trying not to smile. I looked back to her and watched as she picked Amelie up and swung her around.
“Protest all you want. You know it’s true.”
I gave him a single nod. “Okay. Yes. It’s true.”
“Then good luck and high fortune to you, cousin,” Pietr said sombrely as he raised his glass to me.
I did likewise. “Thank you.”
After he swallowed, he indicated to Amelie. “She’ll want to be part of the wedding.”
I nodded. “She will.”
“What will you tell her?”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
Pietr gave me a condescending smile. “You wouldn’t seriously consider having a commoner’s bastard in your wedding?”
I threw the piece of bread back at him. “I’m the Crown Prince of the nation, I can have whomever I want in my wedding. Besides, Tati’s best friends from Australia pride themselves on being as common as they come.”
Pietr snorted. “I’d like to meet them.”
“I’ll make sure to bring them down when they visit.”
“Who’s coming to visit?” Tati asked as she, Kostin and Amelie came to join us.
“Many people, I’m sure,” I said with a wink to Pietr, which he must have understood because he kept his mouth shut.
“Tati said I could visit and see her snow army,” Amelie said.
Tati opened her mouth, closed it and tried again. “We were talking about snowmen and I mentioned the army at Genovich. But I said we had to check with Pietr.”
“Oh, he won’t mind,” Amelie said confidently. “Pietr always says he needs a holiday.”
With the others at the table, talk shifted to centre around Amelie. I was happy to see that Tati’s time at the Franciscan Children’s Home had not been a fluke as she was just as natural and easy-going with Amelie as she’d been when I’d come upon her in the playroom.
It was not the first time I’d seen her with a child and wondered about her being the mother to my own children. It was, however, the first time I believed it was a possibility.
Chapter Thirteen
“Bronkala wants to move up the talks,” Uncle Gregor said.
“How can we move up the talks if we don’t even have a plan for the talks?” Arnell asked exasperatedly and I didn’t blame him.
“Your highness, your talks with Bronkala?” Branvich turned to me. “He truly gave you the impression he was sincere about peace?”
I nodded. “Yes. I felt we had come to an agreement about our concerns for the country and that we both wanted to find a solution.”
“Are you sure he was not placating you, sir?” Porter asked
.
“Are you implying my son is incapable of conducting negotiations, Porter?” Father looked at him sternly.
“Not at all, your majesty. I don’t intend to find fault with his highness, but rather suggest that Bronkala is a very clever man whose sole intent may have been to lull us into false security.”
“Security is the exact thing we do not have,” Father answered. “Dmitri can go before the press and tell them all is well and any potential rebellion has been squashed. But the truth of the matter is that loyal Gallyrians are in fear for their homes and their lives, and are starting to doubt our ability to keep them safe.”
“Father, I do not think it quite as dire as–”
“His highness is right,” Max interrupted me, which was odd considering he seemed to be on my side. “There is as much stability with the crown as there always has been.”
“There would be more if details of the wedding were to be announced,” Uncle Gregor said, looking at me as though he was sorry he couldn’t be on my side for this.
I didn’t blame the councillor in him. It was the council’s job to help the crown rule to the best of its power. And often that meant putting your personal feelings aside in favour of advocating what was best for the country.
“We would all like some stability, Estain. But my son is within his rights to have a few days to himself,” Father said.
But I had not had a few days to myself, had I?
“No one is doubting that, your majesty,” Max replied somewhat testily and I was reminded of all the late-night conversations the three of us had had in recent times. “I, after all, also have an invested interest in the wedding preparations being taken at a rate that suits the couple in question. But my personal feelings aside, Gregor is right.”
“You just agreed with his highness,” Porter accused and I had to admit max seemed to have changed sides.
Max nodded. “I can agree with both, can I not? His highness is correct in that the crown is as stable as ever. But what harm is there in bolstering that stability? To do everything in our power to continue it.”
“You sound like you think something is going to change that stability shortly, your grace,” Porter said.
Max tilted his head for a moment. “I think this Bronkala business is cause for worry.”
“You wouldn’t be concerned about your daughter becoming our nation’s next crown princess then?” Branvich asked. By his tone, he wasn’t accusing or implying anyone should worry, he was just taking it off the table. And I understood why.
“My younger daughter is definitely not the perfect peer, gentleman. She is already well-known to be inept and often inelegant. But I have little doubt that she will always have this country’s best interests at heart. There is likely to be some negative fallout from his highness’ engagement to her, but overall I believe the people will be happy with the choice.”
“So you do think she will garner some resentment towards the crown?” Arnell asked.
Max sighed. “I think it likely there will be some. How much, I could not say.”
“And you feel this means we should ensure we do not lose popularity in other areas,” I said.
Everyone turned to look at me. Max seemed unsure how uncomfortable he was about the matter. Father looked displeased on Max’s behalf. Arnell was a picture of stony indifference. And the others looked caught between supporting me and wanting to tell me I should have known my choice would be controversial.
“I think it would be prudent, as always, to maintain popularity with the things we can control,” Max said slowly.
“Which means announcing wedding news,” I said.
“Yes and no.”
“I believe it was agreed to let his royal highness and Lady Tatiana have until Friday to discuss their wedding in private and then return to the forum for plans to go ahead,” Father said.
“The public surely understand that Lady Tatiana comes from a very different background?” Uncle Gregor questioned. “They will surely be kinder in their expectations with her as our crown prince’s fiancée. While it is important to maintain the traditions the public expect of the royal family, we have some…how do they say it? Wiggle room.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the public think she should just agree to whatever traditions we impose because who doesn’t want to marry a prince,” I muttered.
“Did you say something, your highness?” Branvich asked.
I sighed. “Nothing I should have. Can we return to Bronkala?”
“If it was such an easy matter as that, sir, yes.”
Stupid politics with its never-ending, criss-crossing, interwoven strands. If only anything was as easy as sorting one problem at a time.
“Of course,” I answered. “As it stands, where are we on pre-negotiations for peace talks?”
We debated Bronkala for the rest of the afternoon and long into the evening. Dinner was brought in to us and we barely paused the discussion around mouthfuls of rapidly cooling food.
I went over my capture and discussions with Bronkala too many times as half the council seemed determined to believe all of Bronkala’s words and promises were lies and the other half were so desperate for peace that they were happy to do whatever it took. By late in the night, we were still talking in circles.
“We haven’t had all-out war in Gallyr in centuries,” Branvich said.
“How many dead do you need to call it war?” I asked, exasperated and tired.
“You know what I mean, your highness,” he replied hotly. “Gallyr is, by and large, a peaceful nation.”
“The same could be said for many nations,” I told him, “and yet how many reports of people dying do we hear of each day? We call them isolated instances and, other than mourn the dead, do nothing else while we argue over other ridiculous matters that should never have even been a consideration to begin with. Let us stop and actually consider the facts. People have died in what we have called protests. Someone must be held accountable for this and if we cannot yet hold Bronkala completely accountable, the crown must step up.”
“What do you propose we do, Dmitri?” Father asked, spreading his hands wide. “We can meet with Bronkala and discuss terms of his surrender, hold him accountable in the papers, the courts, the public eye. Or we will end up negotiating for a peace we, by rights, are owed.”
I ran my hand over my jaw. “It is that very frame of mind which has us in this position in the first place.”
“The crown rules by divine right,” Duhamel said scathingly.
“Hundred of years ago, maybe. We haven’t exactly given our people much other choice in the matter, have we?”
“You would have us become a constitutional monarchy?” Arnell asked.
I sighed. “No. That was not what I was…”
“I think what his highness is trying to say,” Max took over for me, “is that it may not go astray to show the crown is not taking for granted that which it has.”
I nodded. “Yes. That. I fully believe in the rule of the crown, but men like Bronkala see us as nothing but self-entitled, arrogant elitists living off the taxpayers’ dollar.”
“And you think this means we should lower ourselves to the common standard?” Father asked.
“If you would stop putting words in my mouth–”
“Have you not in the past described your fiancée as a breath of fresh air to the nobility?”
“It is entirely possible to show the people that we appreciate the power they allow us without removing what separates us from them. Let’s not pretend that people expect royalty to behave a certain way. But let’s also not pretend they’re not gratified to learn that royalty are real people just like them.”
“Next you’ll be telling us that you and Lady Tatiana aren’t marrying in Aeston Chapel,” Branvich said with a look around the table for everyone to join in on his joke.
Max opened his mouth, no doubt to defend Tati, but it was General Arnell
who spoke first.
“Lady Tatiana is well-versed in the expectations of her marriage to the crown prince. You do her a wild disservice suggesting otherwise, Branvich.”
“It was not so long ago you sat in this very room and bemoaned her arrival to Gally,” Branvich said haughtily.
Max and I shared a glance that was both exasperated and knowing.
“Yes, I did,” Arnell admitted. “I was afraid the ways of the nobility were in danger from the likes of the younger generation, and Lady Tatiana’s arrival merely seemed to exacerbate how less formal they are. However, it is not the younger generation who risk the demise of the nobility and the crown, but the older generation who refuse to keep up with the times. Tradition is all very well and good, but there are some I believe we could relax in favour of maintaining relevance.”
“That is easy for you to say, Arnell. You are not a peer.”
“He may not be a peer,” Uncle Gregor said, “but that doesn’t mean the man doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He has sat at this table for many years and earned his place far more fairly than some of the rest of us. Might I remind you how our generation felt about those who sat around this table when we were in our early twenties?” Gregor stared down each of the men in turn. “Exactly. We grew into those we mocked yet here sits our crown prince who does not mock us but rather wishes – for the sake of his country, his people and his crown – that we all work together. That is not too much to ask, is it?”
There was a silence for a moment, then slowly the gathered men began to nod.
“You are right, Uncle. As usual,” Father said. “The speed at which the world changes these days, it is imperative we remain relevant and necessary. As to how we do that in regards to Bronkala, I suggest we leave that for another day. It is late and I fear my son will not forgive me if I keep him from his fiancée much longer.”
As a son, I was highly embarrassed by any layer – overt or covert – of that statement. As a member of council, I saw the humour in it as the rest did.
As we packed up our papers and drained the remainder of whatever we’d moved onto drinking, Max smiled wearily at me.
Royally Unprepared: Prince of Pout (Part 1) (Royal Misadventures Book 5) Page 10
