Page 5 of The Prince and His Stolen Groom
“Exactly, which means your mother is very stressed right now, and it’s best to stay out of her way. Make an appearance at the feast tomorrow and for the rehearsal, but other than that, you should retreat to your tower until the wedding.”
“Oh,” I said, then shook my head. “Wait, no, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
Father waved my protest away. “I don’t blame you one bit. I’d leave if I could. Best I can do is hole up in here when they don’t need anything from me.”
“No, really, I—”
“And Franny will be too busy with her new groom anyway, she won’t have time to entertain you.” He stood up and clapped me on the shoulder.
“Groom!” I said, latching onto the word. “I wanted to talk to you about her groom!”
“Brendon?” Father asked, one eyebrow raised. He walked toward the door, and I naturally stood up and followed him. “Nothing to be concerned about there, I’m sure he’s a great man.”
“Well, that’s the problem. The man part, I mean, because Franny—” I snapped my mouth shut, realizing that in order to tell my father the problem, I would have to out Franny. My parents didn’t have the … best reaction to learning I was gay, though that may have been morehowthey found out. I didn’t know how much they knew about Franny, but it was her decision whether or not to share her sexuality with them.
“I know they haven’t met yet,” Father said as he opened the door. “Neither did your mother and I before we married, and we’ve developed a wonderful partnership these last thirty years. I’m sure Franny and Brendon will do the same.”
“But—” I blinked in shock as the door closed in my face. I hadn’t even remembered stepping through it. “Father!”
A frazzled maid almost ran into me, arms full of tablecloths. “Is the king in his study?” she asked, blowing a stray curl out of her eyes.It landed right back in her face, and she kept blowing on it between words. “The queen wants his opinion on which tablecloths to use—the cream, the champagne, or the buttermilk.”
If I let her into the office, she’d probably talk his ear off for an hour. It’d serve him right for dismissing me without even listening, but I took pity on him. “No, I couldn’t find him.”
She shrugged and asked. “Well, what doyouthink? I needsomeone’sopinion.” She started to unfold them to show me all of the differences.
I waved her away and said, “Just go with the cream.” Before she could scurry off again, I asked, “Do you know where my mother is?”
“Kitchen, last I saw her, finalizing the feast’s menu.”
I thanked her and hurried in that direction, afraid I’d miss my mother if I wasted any time.
Mother sat at one of the kitchen tables with the head chef, arguing about the merits of parsnips and potatoes. She glanced at me in the doorway and her lips turned down in a frown. “Excuse me.”
Picking up her skirts, she walked to me and asked, “Is there something you need, Frederick?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” I whispered. “Somewhere private?”
Mother nodded and called out to the chef that we would be commandeering his office. Once the door was closed, she turned to face me, arms crossed over her chest. Her head barely reached my shoulder, but I still always felt like a small child around her. “What is this about?”
“I think we should postpone the wedding,” I blurted out.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “No.”
That was it. No questions, no confusion, just a flat refusal. “Not forever,” I said. “But I think everything’s moving too quickly. Franny and Branton—”
“Brendon.”
“—haven’t even met yet.”
“They will tomorrow.”
“And then get married in a week!”
Mother tapped her fingers on her arm in a short, angry staccato. “Why are you voicing these objections now? This wedding has been planned for years.”
“I hadn’t thought about it until today,” I muttered, still trying to avoid explaining exactlywhathad changed my mind. “I just think we should consider other options.”
“There are no other options. This wedding is the only way to keep our kingdom safe.”
