Page 88 of Power
Speaking of which, I raise my other hand to my earlobe, fingering the ruby heart stud. Owen’s gift. They must be 1-carat each, if not more. They are heavy and gorgeous, and fitting. It's thoughtful and very Owen. I drop it suddenly as my fingers touch the golden envelope.
I jump back in surprise when my dad’s hand lands on top of it, and he slides it over to himself, sitting back in his chair with a swish of his coattails behind him like some sort of historical character.
“I request to take this favor,” he states. “My King.”
“You can’t do that,” Archer grits out.
“Thenmyfavor is to you to allow me to take the Queen’s favor.”
What? I’m so fucking confused. Doesn’t take much these days, Bails. Not much at all.
“Gryphon,” Archer says, his foul mood growing by the second. “You cannot do that. I cannot allow you to do that. This is unorthodox at best.”
“Screw the orthodoxy of this matter, my King. She isn’t ready. We both know it. I’ll take it.”
“You don’t even know what’s in it!” Archer exclaims, standing up and kicking his chair back. He runs his hand through his hair in agitation, the other going to his hip.
“I don’t need to. She isn’t doing it. End of story.”
“Ches,” Archer growls menacingly.
“Stop!” I rise and place my hands on the table for support. I want nothing more than to hand this thing off to my dad, but it’s not his responsibility. It’s mine. “Give me the envelope.” I hold my hand out for it expectantly.
“Nope.”
“You have no right to take it from me.”
“I don’t give a shit. You are not doing whatever is in this envelope.”
“That’s not your call.”
“Actually, it is,” the mousey guy pipes up, holding his hand up like he’s speaking in class. “Or at least, it can go to vote. Clause 57 of Section 8 of the House of Hearts Chapter is quite clear that if a ruling member of the Court is in danger of completing the favor, an alternate can be voted in to complete the said request.”
“Excuse me?” Archer asks, shaking his head. “Since when?”
“Since always, my King. You have just never been a ruling party until now.”
“Humph,” Archer mutters rudely, but by my dad’s smug expression, I feel this is about to slip away from me without a whole lot I can do about it.
“I don’t need the help,” I state.
“Tough.”
“Let’s put it to a vote,” Dormousey says, all of a sudden very chatty. “Majority wins.”
I gape at him and look to Archer for help. He shrugs and shakes his head.
“All those in favor of Gryphon taking the favor to keep the Queen safe, say aye.”
“Aye,” Dad says, eyes firmly on me.
Scowling, I avert my gaze.
“Aye,” Dormouse says.
“Aye,” Duchess says to my surprise. I figured she’d be throwing me under the bus and hoping for the worst.
“Nay,” Archer says, giving me a fierce glare warning me not to vote against him.
