The Betrothed (The Betrothed #1) - Kiera Cass Page 0,2

. and that took some time.

I saw the gleam in my father’s eye as he realized this carriage ride was his chance to have an extended audience with the king. “So, Your Majesty, how go things along the border?” he began. “I hear our men were forced into a retreat last month.”

I had to avoid rolling my eyes. Why would my father think that reminding the king of our recent failures was the way to strike up a conversation? Jameson, though, took the question in stride.

“It’s true. We only have soldiers along the border to keep the peace, but what are they expected to do when attacked? Reports are that King Quinten insists Isolten land goes all the way to the Tiberan Plains.”

My father scoffed, though I could see he wasn’t truly as calm as he appeared. He always twisted the silver ring on his pointer finger when he was nervous, and he was doing just so now. “That has been Coroan land for generations.”

“Precisely. But I have no fear. We are safe from attacks here, and Coroans make for excellent soldiers.”

I stared out the windows, bored by the talk of inconsequential squabbles along the border. Jameson was usually the best company, but my parents killed any joy in the coach.

I couldn’t help sighing in relief when we pulled up to the dock and I could exit the stifling carriage. “You weren’t joking about your parents,” Jameson said when we were finally alone.

“The last two people I’d invite to a party, that’s for sure.”

“And yet they made the most charming girl in the world,” he said, kissing my hand.

I blushed and looked away, my eyes finding Delia Grace as she climbed out of her carriage, followed by Nora, Cecily, and Anna Sophia. If I thought my ride had been unbearable, her clenched fists as she walked over to me told me hers had been much worse.

“What happened?” I whispered.

“Nothing that hasn’t happened a thousand times before.” She rolled her shoulders back, pulling herself up taller.

“At least we’ll be together on the boat,” I assured her. “Come. Won’t it be fun to watch their faces as you climb onto the king’s ship?”

We walked down to the landing, and I felt a thrill of heat run up my arm when King Jameson took my hand to help me onto our boat. As promised, Delia Grace joined us, along with two of the king’s advisers, while my parents and the remaining guests were escorted to various other boats at His Majesty’s disposal. The royal standard was sitting proudly atop its pole, the bold Coroan red flicking back and forth so quickly in the breeze off the river that it looked like fire. I happily took my seat to Jameson’s right, his fingers still laced through mine as he helped me settle in.

There was food to enjoy, and furs to cover us if the winds were too chilly. It seemed anything I could desire was right there before me, which was something I was still surprised by: the lack of want when I sat beside a king.

As we made our way down the river, people standing on the banks stopped and bowed when they saw the standard, or called out blessings for the king. He was so poised as he nodded his head in acknowledgment, sitting as upright as a tree.

I knew not every sovereign was handsome, but Jameson was. He took great pains with his appearance, keeping his dark hair short and his bronze skin soft. He was fashionable without being frivolous, but he liked to show off the best of his possessions. Taking the boats out this early in the spring could prove that point quickly enough.

And I liked that about him, if only because I got to sit here beside him, feeling unmistakably regal.

Along the side of the river, near where a new bridge had been built, a weatherworn statue stood, casting her shadow down the slope toward the blue-green waters. As tradition dictated, the gentlemen on the boats rose to stand while the ladies dropped our heads in respect. There were books filled with the tales of Queen Albrade riding along the countryside and fending off the Isoltens while her husband, King Shane, was off in Mooreland for matters of state. Upon his return, the king had seven statues of his wife placed across Coroa, and every August, all the ladies at court did dances holding wooden swords to remember her victory.

Indeed, the queens throughout Coroan history were often remembered