Page 125 of Heart of Iron
Whispers broke out.Several of the dukes exchanged sharp glances.Only Leo seemed at ease, and everyone noticed it.The Duchess of Casavian shot him a narrow-eyed look, then glanced at the prince consort and queen.
“This appointment carries great weight and a great deal of responsibility,” the prince consort continued.“We are pleased to announce Mr.William Carver as our new liaison to the verwulfen alliance.”
The world dropped out from under him.Heads turned as everyone sought to find him, and the sound of dozens of shocked gasps filled the room.
Will froze, his hands prepared to clap.“This weren’t the plan.”
“Well, go on!”Lena whispered, a hint of desperate glee in her eyes.“I’m sorry, Will.Leo was a very good suggestion, but there was someone else who was better.You were the only one who couldn’t see that.”
“I can’t be ambassador,” he hissed.
Around them, the crowd’s clapping started to fade as everyone turned to see what was taking him so long.
“Then the treaty’s off,” Lena whispered, the smile sliding off her face.“Please.I know you don’t like the idea.But think of how much power you could have!Enough to make sure your laws are changed.Enough to offer protection to any verwulfen who needed it.And I’ll be there for you.I won’t let you do this alone.I’m so sorry, Will.This was the only way I could think to protect you.”
He took a deep breath.The room was closing in on him, suddenly far too small.All his life he’d been trapped in the cage, and then in the confines of Whitechapel.It was too much for him.
A hand slid into his and squeezed it tightly.
“You can do this,” she whispered, with utmost certainty.“Here is your freedom, Will.”
Her hand became an anchor in a world that was swirling around him, a riot of color.Lena was right.Barrons could do this, but he would never have enough loyalty, enough stake in this to truly care.The verwulfen needed someone who would be on their side.And the prince consort needed someone to placate his eastern allies.
But he had other responsibilities.Other debts of honor.Blade met his gaze, his green eyes knowing.
“Go on then,” he said softly.
“What about—”
Blade shook his head.“Rip’s muscle enough to do me enforcin’.And this’ll give you power you ain’t ’ad before.Use it,” he said ruthlessly.“Times are changin’.Me, a knight o’ the realm and you as ambassador?”He laughed.“Gotta adapt.”
“Fine.”Will looked down at Lena.“I’m gonna be terribly old-fashioned, however, and insist on marriage.I ain’t doin’ this alone.”
A warm light infused her eyes, the copper in them glowing.“How middle-class, Will.Marriage?Truly?Not merely a consort?”With a happy laugh she pushed him toward the center of the crowd.“I accept.Now go.”
***
Lena’s heart swelled with pride as she watched him shake the prince consort’s hand and bluntly accept the appointment.The whispers in the hall were overpowering.Colchester looked like he was going to explode with fury, his eyes staring daggers at Will.
Suddenly he smiled.
A tremor of premonition edged down her spine.Not Will.He could make any move against her that he wanted.But not Will.
Edging onto her toes, she realized she was suddenly too far away to help if he did something.Knowing it was irrational—Colchester would never dare, not here—she pushed her way past Blade, using her newfound strength to make spaces in the crowd where there were none.
Magnus shook Will’s hand with a tight little smile.Allies perhaps, but Magnus would fight for what he thought was best for his people.The Swedish count examined him with a piercing gaze, then took his hand.Will was doing a smashing job despite his unease.He said the right things, even managed a smile.
The prince consort called for the papers.A pair of liveried servants hurried forward, carrying a small signing table with a gold inkwell.Beaming with satisfaction at seeing all of his plots come to fruition, the prince consort made a small gesture to the side.
“And now, a small token of our gratitude!”he called.
A pair of young lads sprang forward, clad in black and gold and dragging a heavy platform into view.The figure stood seven feet tall, draped in a pristine white silk sheet.The crowd clapped as the Swedish ambassador accepted the gift with good grace.
“What is this?”the count asked.
One of the young men grabbed the edge of the sheet and whipped it away with a flourish.A heavy iron-plated man stood on the rolling platform, his arms and chest chiseled, the rough-hewn plating of his face sharp-edged and raw.She’d not bothered to file the rough edges.It suited him—her heavy clockwork rendition of Will.
Lena stilled as the crowd erupted into loud clapping.Whatwasitdoinghere?The last time she’d seen it, she’d given it into Mr.Mandeville’s keeping with a good riddance.
