Page 8 of Gwen and Art Are Not in Love

‘Drunk,’ Gabriel observed flatly. Arthur shrugged.

‘Can’t a man be both? Why do you have the entire country’s supply of marzipan, anyway?’

‘I was also hungry,’ Gabriel said, looking morosely down at the mess on the floor.

‘Oh. Well. I’m going in there,’ said Arthur. ‘Do you want … There might be some more, or—’

‘No,’ Gabriel said stiffly, handing him the empty plate as if Arthur were a serving boy. ‘Goodnight, Arthur.’

‘A joy, as always, Gabriel,’ Arthur said; he thought he heard a little agitated exhalation of breath as the prince walked away. Arthur was left alone in the hallway, suddenly feeling very stupid. ‘Sanctimonious bastard,’ he said consolingly to himself, before going in search of bread.

It was dangerous to want things, and Gwen was out of practice.

In fact, the only thing she had truly wanted for years was to be left alone.

Her mother waged a constant war against this tiny, precarious hope, but Gwen had kept it alive, refusing to become more involved with the ladies at court, make friends with the spawn of high-born families like Agnes, or in any way prepare for life as the future Lady of Maidvale. She didn’t see the point, because she did not intend to change; she would certainly not stop taking her daily walk, or working on her embroidery in the afternoon, or spending the majority of her day in her own company, even once she was married.

If she thought about it too much, it might have been depressing that her only real wish was for the absence of something – so she didn’t think about it at all. She kept to her routines. They made her feel safe. If she wasn’t allowed to desire anything for herself, then she thought she should at least get to keep that.

Lady Leclair was a problem. Looking at her felt a lot like wanting something.

On her way down to a family breakfast the morning after the opening ceremony, Gwen decided, for perhaps the five hundredth time since she had first set eyes on the knight of House Leclair, that it was best not to think about that either.

She had far more pressing matters to attend to.

‘Father,’ she began, watching as the king held up a letter and squinted at it, covering it in quite a lot of soft cheese in the process. ‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Arthur Delacey.’

‘Actually,’ her father said, wiping some of the cheese on a napkin, ‘I’vebeen meaning to talk toyouabout Arthur Delacey.’

‘Well. Yes. I just think we should talk this through before we do anything rash. Is it really the best—’

The king sighed and raised his index finger, a signal rarely employed with his family but universally understood to demand instant silence.

‘He will be staying for the summer, Gwendoline. It is long past time for you to become reacquainted. You are nearly eighteen, after all – you must have known this was coming.’

‘I had hoped,’ Gwen said, choosing her words carefully, ‘that the circumstances that led to the agreement in the first place might have changed.’

Her father didn’t look unsympathetic, but unfortunately he also didn’t look like a man about to drastically change his mind. ‘You know that the Lord and Lady of Maidvale lent me invaluable support when I took the throne, Gwendoline, despite the fact that Delacey is a cultistthrough and through and could have easily thrown his lot in … elsewhere. You also know that I am a man of my word.’

‘So because of an old alliance that doesn’t even benefit us any more, I have to suffer?’

‘Wedostill benefit from it,’ her father said, looking at her evenly. ‘Lord Delacey may not hold as much power as he once did, but now is not the time to upset him or any of his faction. And you do not have tosuffer. You have to marry.’

‘Same difference,’ Gwen said, feeling her cheeks getting hot.

‘Gwendoline,’ said the queen. Gwen waited with little hope to see if her mother was about to come to her aid. ‘Would you pleasestoppicking at your nails.’

Gwen put both hands under the table and curled them into fists instead.

‘Father,’ Gabriel said quietly. ‘I’ve heard some … particularlyunsavouryrumours about Arthur Delacey’s behaviour over the past year, and I had a brief encounter with him last night that all but confirmed them.’

‘Yes,’ said Gwen, throwing Gabriel a look of gratitude and seizing this opportunity to appeal to her father’s sense of propriety. ‘I understand that you gave your word, but shouldn’t we weigh up the benefits of honouring the match with the possible damage he might do? To the crown? To our reputation?’To me, she added silently.

‘We will do no such thing,’ said her mother, looking exasperated. ‘You’re not a child any more, Gwendoline. It is high time you accept both him and your responsibilities as the future lady of his house and lands.’

‘I’m not going to move to his house and lands!’ Gwen said. ‘I’m going to stay at court, so frankly I don’t see the point.’

‘Thepoint,’ said her mother acidly, ‘is that you may not have a choice! And you’ll still be expected to help manage his affairs—’