Celia sat stiffly in her chair, her pulse pounding in her head. Her father stared back at her. His eyes were like daggers, ready to end someone without mercy.
She could only pray she wasn't that person.
What if she was, though? Wasn't all this at least partly her failure? Her marriage wasn't successful. Despite all the careful planning by her father and grandfather when they secured her betrothal, with the great hope of improving relations with Havietten, nothing had really changed for the better.
Why would it, when she'd failed to exert any influence at all in her adopted homeland?
So if her father was going to hold her even somewhat responsible for the state of her marriage, she wasn't in any position to argue with a crowned king. She'd have to endure it.
If only she didn't have to endure it in front of Lucas. He remained seated quietly at her side while King Leo raged.
