Page 117 of The Shadows Between Us
“Must have slipped your mind,” Father says. But once he gets close enough not to be overheard, he adds, “I’m here to rescue you, Alessandra.”
I take a sip from my glass as though I don’t hear him. Father is hoping to get a reaction from me. It won’t happen.
“Did you hear me, Alessandra? I’m going to save you and your reputation.”
Again, I say nothing.
“What with the rumors of your crime spreading like wildfire, we must keep you safe by wedding you off right away to a powerful man.”
My eyes flit to Father’s face. “Rumors of my crime?”
“Yes, the murder of Hektor Galanis. Everyone is talking of it.”
That’s why everyone is suddenly giving me a wide berth. They think me a murderess.
Damn Faustus. He must know the king cleared me of all charges, but that didn’t stop him from running his tongue.
“Don’t worry, darling,” Father says. “A hasty marriage will offer you some protection. I’ve been talking with the Viscount of Thoricus—”
“Rhouben’s father?”
“You’re familiar with his son, then? Wonderful. He recently ended his engagement with a baron’s daughter. The two of you will make a smart match.”
I nearly spit out the champagne in my mouth. “So now I’m to marry someone beneath my station?”
“He has money, Alessandra. And with my dear friend Eliades behind bars, we can’t very well rely on him anymore.”
I set my empty champagne glass down on a tray as a servant walks by. Then I face my father fully. “So nothing less than a duke will do for Chrysantha, but I’m to wed a future viscount. Is that it?”
“You can hardly afford to be picky with the way people are talking about you.”
I startle my father when I start laughing. “You never listen to me. You never have, but let me be clear. I don’t need you to save me. I don’t need a hasty marriage. I have the king, and he has pardoned me of all charges. You would know this if you ever bothered to ask me about the situation instead of coming to your own conclusions and solutions.
“He’s proposing to me tonight,” I finish.
“He hasn’t asked my permission—”
“He doesn’t need to. He’s the king, and as I said, you’re not getting a cent out of the treasury for me.”
He tries to get in another sentence, but I don’t let him.
“No. This is my party. My night. You do not get to ruin it.” I eye a couple of guards against the walls. When I catch their attention, I beckon them to me with a hand.
I half expect them not to listen. But they do. Two young men come striding forward, rifles slung over their shoulders.
“Yes, my lady?” one of them asks.
“Have the earl escorted from the ball. He’s not welcome. If he does not leave willingly, you have my permission to use force.”
Father lets out one laugh. “Who do you think you are? The queen?”
But the two guards step between me and my father. “This way, my lord.”
Father looks upon me with bewilderment. And then, for the briefest of moments, I feel that he finally sees me. My ambition. My cunning. My achievements. The guards heeding my commands are proof enough of what I’ve been trying to explain to my father for weeks.
I have achieved exactly what I set out to do.
And then Father seems to realize that if that’s true, then what I said about not receiving a bride-price for me must be true as well. His face turns to one of panic as the guards grip his arms firmly and escort him away.
