Arranged_An Array Novel

by Hazel Grace

  “I’ll find someone else,” I retorted.

  “Ava is right here,” Father insisted, pointing at the wall. “She is perfect, George. There won’t be—”

  “I know where she is,” I snapped. “Father, we’ve done enough to her already. Let her live her life now.”

  “I’ve done nothing to that girl but treat her as one of my own!” he barked, his face flushing.

  “You put a fucking target on her back the day you signed on, making her the next heir!” I shouted, standing. “Is that how you take care of your own?”

  My father halted and stared at me intently. He looked weary, years of worry taking its toll. His broad shoulders were now sagged, and the lines shown under his eyes from lack of sleep. “I gave Telliva a fucking promising future if you died. Not everything is about everyone’s feelings and how they will feel. She is the only person that I trust to run this country well.”

  “Make Reddington the heir,” I retorted. “He’s my cousin, for Femme Fatale’s sakes!”

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Father roared. “Do you want your mother to kill me with her bare hands? His mother tried to kill your mother all those years ago. Do you think giving him the throne would sit well with Cecilia?”

  I dropped my glass, not giving a shit where it landed. “That’s your fuck up, not ours. And now Ava has to pay for it?”

  Father strode toward me, clenching his fists. If my father was twenty years younger, he would have scared the shit out of me.

  “Regardless of my fuck up, there are reasons why I did what I did. If I had it my way, I’d make your brother the king, but I can’t do that; your mother would agree. That’s Tellivan law. That leaves your bastard sister, Hara, out too. I’m an only child. You are the only legitimate child. Where does that leave me, George?”

  I clenched my jaw. It left him with no one besides greedy Lords to eat up the throne.

  Father set down his glass with a hard thud. “You have one week to find another bride, or Ava will be your Queen.”

  “And if I flatly refuse?”

  “Then she marries someone else.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because you don’t adhere to my requests, and I need to light a fire under your ass to make things happen.”

  “What are the requirements?” I asked, feeding into this. This wasn’t going to happen if I had anything to do with it.

  Father made for the door but didn’t turn around. “She must be wealthy, in good standing, sociably, and demand reverence.”

  “I’ll start right away.”

  He looked over his shoulder. “You better. A week isn’t shit.”

  With that, he slammed the door. I sat back, sipping my brandy. I was fucked. Where the hell would I find another tolerable wife in such a short amount of time?

  ∞∞∞

  I drained every ounce of energy I had on Garrett’s man. I needed to get it out—the anger, the frustration, everything that made me feel like I was about to fail Ava. I promised to keep her taken care of, but my father was being an asshole, and that asshole was a king.

  I swung down hard with my sword against one of the Elite Eight; Max, I think his name was. He’d sent a few questioning looks at my brother, who stood there, arms crossed, watching us. Max peered at Garrett again, and now he was pissing me off. I veered my foot behind his knee and pulled, bringing Max to the ground.

  “Keep your eyes on me, soldier,” I growled, stepping back to let him get up. Max stood, brushing dirt off his pants. The rest of the Elite Eight were jousting around us, kicking up dust.

  “All right, great job, men,” Garrett shouted over the field. “Max, why don’t you go tell the men that message I passed along to you earlier.”

  I threw down my sword, hearing it clink against the hard ground. Bringing my hands over my head to catch my breath, Garrett watched his men leave the practice grounds and turned to face me, eyebrows raised.

  “Were you practicing for our next great attack?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “What was that then?”

  “It was nothing,” I grumbled, walking over to a wooden bench. I picked up a white cloth and cleaned off my weapon.

  “You going to tell me what happened, or do I get to guess?” Garrett inquired, crossing his arms, like he used to when we were kids.

  “Father wants me to rid myself of Madelyn as a potential for my wife.” Garrett blinked, and I shrugged. “Are you going to say something or just stare?”

  “I was waiting for the rest,” Garrett replied. “You didn’t fight my man like that just because you have to get rid of Madelyn.”

  I sat down, setting my sword in my lap. “He is trying to make Ava my queen.” Garrett’s brows deepened, but he said nothing. I rolled my eyes and placed my hands on my knees. “Are you going to help me or not?”

  Garrett shrugged. “What do you want me to do?”

  I scowled at him. “Fucking help me. If Ava becomes Queen and her life is miserable…I’m going to make your life a living hell.” Garrett remained motionless. “Still not doing it for you? How about I make you my head of security and army. We’ll make Telliva your permanent residence.”

  Garrett groaned. “I don’t want to get involved with this.”

  “With Ava?”

  “Yes, I’m not looking to get tangled up in her life.”

  I let out a snicker. “Brother, you got knotted into this mess the day you assigned the Elite Eight to keep her safe.”

  Garrett rubbed his forehead and groaned. “I did it to protect the girl.”

  “Or because you cared for the girl.”

  Ava

  Chapter 12

  Four crystal chandeliers cast the light from countless candle over the ballroom. Cheery music flowed through the air as I stood at the entrance, observing the various colors of dresses and suits. I remembered escaping this room as a child, dodging the pinching of cheeks and the requests to dance with Lords’ sons.

  “It’s so lovely.” Madelyn beamed at my side. “I’ve never seen anything like this at home.”

  “Nothing but the best to show off for Her Majesty’s birthday,” George groaned. Nudging his arm, I grinned.

  As I peered back into the ballroom, Garrett caught my eye, and my breath hitched. He was dressed in a gray coat with a matching vest and dark blue slacks. He was the most handsome man I’d ever seen… and he was walking straight toward us.

  “Ladies,” Garrett greeted as he bowed. A strand of his dark hair fell across his forehead when he straightened. “You both look captivating.” He acknowledged his brother and mumbled something to him. George nodded, rolling his eyes.

  “Lady Stratford,” Garrett asked, extending his arm, “may I have the next set?”

  Madelyn held a delicate hand to her chest. “I would be extremely honored, Lord Cranfield.”

  As the couple walked toward the dance floor, George cleared his throat.

  “I have some news.”

  “Oh?” I replied, observing the familiar pearl white walls etched with gold panels.

  “I’m breaking off my courtship with Madelyn,” he stated flatly.

  My focus jerked toward him. “What? Why?”

  “Father happened,” George spat.

  “He doesn’t like her?”

  George played with the sleeves of his black jacket. “No, he has no issues with Maddy, other than her gentle approach would not produce a good Tellivan queen.”

  I furrowed my brows. “What’s wrong with being gentle?”

  George shook his head. “Nothing, by my standard.”

  “But if she loves you, then—”

  “Father wants me to find another potential wife in a week.”

  “A week?”

  “Or else he wants me to marry you.”

  I froze. Edward didn’t waste any time.

  “Garrett and I are already searching for candidates.” I forced an appreciative smile, my chest constricting while the walls cav
ed in. It was as though shackles were coming up from the pearl marble floor, already latching on, attempting to keep me prisoner here for life.

  “You won’t find someone in a week. Let’s be honest; she won’t be worth the crown,” I replied. “It’s okay, George.” I placed a hand on his forearm.

  “I will do everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t come down to you being stuck with me in marriage,” he vowed. I believed he would try, but he would fail. I wasn’t going to be naïve about this, Edward would win. George knew it just as much as I did; he was just in denial.

  I inhaled deeply. “I’ll agree to it.”

  George’s head shot up. “What?”

  “I’ll agree to it. We’ll get married.” My stomach turned, every thought about me travelling with Eve and experiencing new adventures beginning to sail away.

  George grabbed my hand. “I can’t let you do that. It’s too large a sacrifice.”

  “We’ve both made sacrifices, George. You’ve kept me safe, provided me protection, and you continue to do so. We understand each other; our marriage wouldn’t be terrible.”

  “One of us would kill the other in less than a month.” I forced a chuckle as George’s face grew solemn. “Give me a chance. I have a week.”

  “If I don’t approve of the woman, we will do this. I’m serious.”

  George bowed. “Agreed. Now c’mon, you owe me a dance.” With that, he grabbed my arm and led me out to the dance floor, with no room for argument.

  The dance was a freestyle and George kept me on my toes. He twirled me around and clasped my hands as we went under other couple’s arms. Fits of laughter left my body as George kept my mind on the music and not on the worries of our future. When our dance ended, George snatched me a beverage as he escorted me off the floor.

  “I have a surprise for you. Something I think you’ll enjoy,” George told me.

  I raised a brow with a smile. “What kind of surprise?”

  “How about I show you?” He took my arm.

  “Now? We haven’t been here but for a moment.”

  “I am the Prince of Telliva. I can leave whenever I please.” He stopped. “Unless you’d like to wait until the celebration is deceased, and we’ve all died of boredom.”

  “I’m ready.”

  George shrugged. “We can dance one more time if you wish, and—”

  “George,” I chided. He smiled, guiding me out of the ballroom.

  ∞∞∞

  I stood in the hallway outside the ballroom, eyes wide and mouth agape. “I can’t believe you’re here,” I said, still in disbelief that Sam was standing in front of me. A foot taller, with facial hair and the same glinting green eyes, my best friend gave me a crooked smile.

  “I’m going to head in,” George said, placing his hand briefly on my forearm. He nodded at Sam and left us alone. I embraced Sam, closing my eyes.

  “For a few days,” Sam said, his voice a lower hum than I remembered. He squeezed me and chuckled. “You act like you haven’t seen me in forever.”

  I lifted my head. “I haven’t seen you in years,” I countered. “How are you here?”

  “George sent for me,” he replied. “You were right; he isn’t so bad.”

  “Told you.” I stepped away, examining him. “You’ve grown up so much.”

  Sam squinted. “I wasn’t a kid when you last saw me,” he retorted.

  I grinned. “You acted like one.”

  Sam chuckled. “Says the girl who used to pout when Micah told you no.”

  “I didn’t pout.”

  “You may have not realized it, but you pouted. You pouted a lot.”

  I slapped his chest, regretting it as numbness prickled through my fingers.

  “You’re full of shit, Samuel,” I chortled.

  Sam grabbed my arm, linking it in his. “I want to see the life you used to live,” he said. “Let’s go to the party.” We went down the hallway to the entrance and walked in. As we entered, the smell of cologne and perfume saturating the air. Sam halted, studying the exquisite décor of the room.

  “Wow,” he said, looking around the room.

  “It’s”—I rolled my eyes—“something, isn’t it?”

  “I see why you don’t like the parties. This is just…a lot.”

  I pulled Sam along, passing curious couples and women. Grabbing a glass of dark liquor for Sam, I handed it over.

  “Everything else wasn’t so bad,” I told him. Sam nodded, looking up at the chandeliers.

  “Ava!” Madelyn bellowed across the room, waving excitedly. Garrett and George were with her, speaking amongst themselves, as I steered toward their direction.

  “Madelyn, this is Sam Harris,” I introduced, as we stood in front of each other.

  Madelyn’s brows raised, her lips quirking up. “The Sam Harris,” she replied, holding out a white gloved hand. “So nice to meet you, Sir Harris. Ava has told me so much about you.”

  Sam shook her hand firmly, which startled Madelyn. “Thank you. You as well, Lady Madelyn. All the bad things are lies,” he replied with a smirk.

  “All good things,” Madelyn giggled.

  “And you remember Lord Cranfield.” I gestured to Garrett, who stood stone still. Sam stepped forward, holding out his hand. Garrett glanced hesitantly down at it.

  “How could I forget?” Sam said, waiting for Garrett to accept his gesture. George nudged him, and Garrett took it.

  “Harris,” he said flatly, over the loud music that started to play.

  “Will you dance with me, Sam?” I asked, breaking the awkward tension.

  He nodded. “Love to.” We evaded dancing couples and found a place on the floor; a slow rhythmic dance played. Sam took my hands and positioned himself, focused on his steps. He took the lead, gliding me around the floor, light as a feather.

  “Your worldly travels paid off,” I teased. “You know how to dance.”

  Sam grinned. “Ha, ha.”

  “You look good, Sam,” I told him. “I’m so happy to see you.”

  “And I, you. More than you know.”

  Garrett

  Chapter 13

  I stood next to George and tried to relax. I swore every living being that could possibly annoy me had showed up around me. I didn’t need Sam interrogating me later about how Ava was being treated and if she was comfortable. Luckily, he was leaving soon.

  “Where did Madelyn go?” George asked, and I shrugged. I didn’t care; had no idea. “I should probably talk to her.”

  “Now?” I scolded. “At a party? Real classy, George.”

  “I can’t hold it in anymore. I just want this over with.”

  “This really isn’t the best place or time. Have I taught you nothing?”

  George chuckled. “You didn’t teach me shit.”

  “I resent that,” I countered. My body began to relax, when a familiar piercing voice shattered my composure within seconds.

  “Why, Lord Cranfield, I’m upset that you haven’t sought me out yet tonight for a dance.”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. My shoulders tightened, and I cringed. This night was getting worse and worse.

  I turned to Sophia Chitwood, who was smiling at me as if I would be delighted to see her. She primped her dark blonde hair that was pulled to the side.

  “Lady Chitwood,” I said in a monotone voice. I didn’t even bother to bow when she curtsied in front of me.

  “I thought you’d seen me earlier, but you were busy dancing with a pretty blonde.” She pouted, peering up at me with her slanted brown eyes.

  “Didn’t see you,” I replied.

  “I would forgive you anything, Lord Cranfield,” she crooned.

  “I didn’t apologize,” I snapped, but she ignored me, turning to George.

  “Your Grace, are you enjoying the festivities?”

  “As much as I can, yes. I’m not one for large crowds anymore.” Neither of us were, especially since a few of George’s assassination at
tempts were made with masses of people around. “Have you been back long?” George asked, and I glared at him from the corner of my eye.

  “Just arrived last night. Father has a few court cases coming up, and I was tired of staying in the country.” She glanced at me. “There isn’t much to look at.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I need to find Madelyn,” George stated, patting me on the back and bowing to Sophia. I groaned inwardly as he took his leave. I was going to kill him.

  “Lord Cranfield”—she stepped closer, her perfume assaulting my nostrils—“dance with me.” I should've just stuck with my instincts and run. Sophia snatched my arm, and I halted before she paraded me to the dance floor.

  “No.”

  Sophia lifted a brow. “No?”

  “Your hearing still works.”

  “Do you want to start a scene?”

  “I won’t be starting one,” I remarked. She narrowed her eyes, which made me notice that she was wearing too much rouge.

  “I have no issues in doing so.”

  I crossed my arms. “Forcing yourself on me, Chitwood, isn’t going to do you any good. I’ll give you the direct cut right now and end this.”

  Sophia mimicked my actions and crossed her own arms. “And I’ll start to cry about how you are leaving me and our unborn child.” My temper forced me forward, and I towered over her. Clenching my hands, I kept myself from strangling her, and she smiled. “Ready?”

  She took my arm and steered me to the crowds of dancing couples. Standing in front of me, she placed her large hand on my shoulder, waiting for me to take the other. I hesitated for a moment before taking it.

  “Father said you won the tournament today,” she said, trying to start up a conversation. “But I’m not surprised. I’ve seen you practice and you were the best I’d seen!”

  “And you watch many fights?”

  She giggled and spun herself around. “Heavens, no. Forgive me, but I only watch and pay attention to what interests me.”

  “I figured shopping for shoes and gowns was more your style,” I murmured. She snuggled closer to me.

  “You make me sound like a boring little brat, Garrett. I was hoping that while I was here you could take me for a ride in the country. I’ve been practicing at home, and I am quite good.” The way the word spilled off her slim lips confirmed she wasn’t talking about horses.