Nathaniel Gracen, Imperial Prime Minister, hoped he looked calm as he walked down the endless corridor to the Dowager Empress’s apartments. Her Imperial Majesty did not have favourites among her grandchildren, except when she did, and everyone knew she saw a great deal of herself in Princess Isabella.
Who was about to be married and sent away. Not that she knew it yet, and the emperor in his wisdom (a sneaky voice in Nathaniel’s head whispered cowardice), had decided it should be his mother that broke the news to his most headstrong child, not him.
He entered the wide, comfortable sitting room the Dowager Empress preferred and bowed before the small but intimidating woman.
She waved him to a chair. “You’re a day early for my weekly report, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Your Majesty,” she looked sceptical, rightly so. Nathaniel swallowed and went on. “We’re making strong progress on an alliance with the new king of Valen and hope to see him in the city in a month or so, to formalise the agreement… with a betrothal to one of our princesses.”
“Which of the girls is Edmund thinking of sending.”
“The king… he’s made a specific request… said it’s her or no one…”
The old Empress’s eyes narrowed. “Who.”
“Princess Isabella.”
“Isabella? Oh, that’s fine then.”
“Your Majesty?” Nathaniel wasn’t sure which way was up any more, everyone knew Isabella was off limits for treaty marriages.
She chuckled, actually chuckled. “Do you honestly not know who this new king is, Lord Gracen?”
“I know he grew up in the Empire, went to Valen’s Hidden City as part of our ambassadorial mission, then fulfilled some ancient prophecy. Are you saying he’s someone I’m acquainted with?”
“My dear boy, Tommaso Di Fiore was the favourite guard of every last one of my granddaughters before he left for the South, and he adores Isabella. They’ll deal delightfully together, although I doubt the nobility of Valen will know what’s hit them.”
She rang the bell by her chair. “I assume my silly son wants me to break the news, in case of drama. She will join me for tea this afternoon.”
The DNA of Stories 