Prince Harris Pennington stormed out of his father's chamber, his heavy footfalls echoing through the quiet corridors of the royal palace. His jaw was clenched tight, his fists still balled from the confrontation with King Harley, but he forced himself to remain composed. His father's indecisiveness had pushed him to the brink. Harris could feel the crown slipping through his fingers, and he was not a man who let anything slip away easily.
There were two certainties in Harris's life: strength and loyalty. He had cultivated both throughout his years on the battlefield, forging bonds with the kingdom's most powerful military leaders, and winning victories that had solidified Ustaria's borders. His soldiers revered him as a hero, but in the court—where words could be more dangerous than swords—he felt the unease creeping in. The nobles were plotting, the council was restless, and his siblings were moving like shadows in the night.
But Harris knew that strength alone would not win him the throne, not in the political web of the palace. He needed alliances—and not just those forged in battle, but ones that would secure his position within the complex world of noble loyalties. As much as he detested the manipulations of court, he could no longer ignore the fact that securing the throne would require more than a show of force.
As Harris made his way back to his private chambers, his thoughts turned to Duke Kindlay Windsor, a man of significant influence among the nobles. Kindlay was the head of one of the wealthiest families in Ustaria, and his support would give Harris an edge over those who doubted his political acumen. But Kindlay had proven elusive in the past, keeping his cards close to his chest, unwilling to pledge full support to any one of the Pennington siblings. Harris knew that in order to win him over, he would need to offer something more than promises of military strength.
When Harris entered his chambers, General Raoul was already there, waiting as he often did, standing by the fireplace with his arms crossed. Raoul, who had accompanied him on every campaign, knew the stakes were high, and he could see the tension in Harris's rigid posture as he entered.
"Well?" Raoul asked quietly, though he already knew the answer.
Harris let out a low growl of frustration, shrugging off his cloak and tossing it onto a nearby chair. "My father is as stubborn as ever. He refuses to name an heir. He keeps talking about 'wisdom,' as if that's going to keep this kingdom from tearing itself apart."
Raoul nodded slowly, his expression calm but serious. "The nobles are getting more impatient. We've heard murmurs that some houses are already backing Ruby."
Harris's jaw tightened. "Of course they are. They think her diplomacy will unite the kingdom. But what they don't understand is that diplomacy without strength is a weakness. They'll eat her alive the moment she shows any sign of hesitation."
Raoul stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Then it's time to remind the council where the real power lies."
Harris's eyes narrowed as he looked at his long-time friend. "You mean I should make a move against my sister?"
Raoul's silence was answer enough.
Harris sighed, his frustration boiling just beneath the surface. He knew that the time for subtlety was passing, but striking out at Ruby wasn't the answer—at least, not yet. She was too beloved by the people, and any overt move against her could destabilize his position among the nobles.
"What about Duke Kindlay?" Harris asked, changing the subject. "Have we heard anything from him?"
Raoul nodded, his expression shifting slightly. "Kindlay has expressed interest in meeting with you... privately. Tonight."
Harris arched an eyebrow. Kindlay was not a man who usually sought private meetings, especially with someone as direct as Harris. "What does he want?"
"Support," Raoul said simply. "He wants assurances that, should you take the throne, his position will be... elevated."
Harris smirked. "He wants a greater share of power. Of course he does. But what else?"
Raoul hesitated before answering. "He also wants to secure a... marriage alliance."
Harris's smirk faded, and his eyes darkened slightly. "A marriage alliance? With who?"
"Your sister," Raoul said quietly, watching Harris carefully. "His son has been pursuing Ruby for some time, but the king has yet to approve any formal arrangement. If his son Harry were to marry her, his influence over the nobles would grow significantly."
Harris felt a wave of irritation rise within him. The idea of his sister being used as a pawn in Kindlay's political games wasn't a surprise, but it was still unsettling. Ruby was clever enough to fend off most suitors, but Harry was persistent, and if he gained her hand in marriage, Duke would have far too much power in the court for Harris's comfort.
"I won't let him marry Ruby," Harris said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I'll meet with him, but he needs to know that his ambitions won't come at my sister's expense."
Raoul nodded in agreement. "I'll arrange the meeting. But be careful, Harris. Kindlay isn't a man who likes to be denied."
---
The private meeting was arranged for later that night, in one of the palace's lesser-known chambers. It was a small, secluded room, far from the prying eyes of the court, and often used for more discreet discussions between nobles. Harris arrived first, his demeanor composed but his mind sharp and ready for whatever Kindlay would try to pull. Raoul had advised him to tread carefully, but Harris had no intention of letting Duke Kindlay Windsor manipulate him.
When Kindlay finally arrived, dressed in his usual fine attire, his expression was one of calm politeness. But there was something in the way he carried himself—something in the way his eyes gleamed as they met Harris's—that hinted at the layers of strategy lurking beneath his smooth exterior.
"Prince Harris," Kindlay greeted him with a slight bow, his voice silky. "It's good to see you again."
Harris gave a curt nod, not bothering with pleasantries. "Kindlay."
The two men stood opposite each other for a moment, the silence between them heavy with unspoken intentions. Harris gestured to the table where two goblets of wine sat waiting, a gesture of hospitality, though neither man was truly interested in wine at this moment.
"Let's not waste time," Harris said, sitting down and motioning for Kindlay to do the same. "I know why you're here."
Kindlay's smile remained fixed, though there was a sharpness to his gaze. "I appreciate your directness, Your Highness. It saves us both the trouble of dancing around the matter."
"Then let's be direct," Harris said, his voice edged with authority. "You want power. I can give it to you—when I'm king."
Kindlay leaned forward slightly, resting his hands on the table. "I'm sure you could. But power comes in many forms, Harris. Influence, military might, wealth... and alliances."
Harris's eyes narrowed. "You're talking about Ruby."
"Of course," Kindlay said smoothly. "A marriage between our houses would strengthen your claim to the throne. It would show the nobles that you have the full support of the Windsor family—one of the most powerful houses in Ustaria."
Harris clenched his jaw. "You know I won't use my sister as a bargaining chip. She's not part of this."
Kindlay's smile faltered slightly, but he recovered quickly. "No, of course not. But surely you understand the value of such an alliance. Ruby is beloved by the people. She has the potential to be a powerful queen, and with me at her side, we could bring stability to the kingdom."
"Stability?" Harris growled, leaning forward. "You mean control."
Kindlay's eyes flashed with a brief spark of frustration. "Control, Harris, is what we all seek. Whether you like it or not, this kingdom is on the verge of tearing itself apart. If we don't consolidate power now, it will fall into chaos. I can help you secure that power."
Harris remained silent, his mind racing as he weighed Kindlay's words. As much as he hated to admit it, there was some truth to what the duke was saying. The kingdom was fragile, and with the succession still undecided, the nobility was growing more restless by the day. But Harris was no fool. He knew that Harry's interest in Ruby had more to do with his own ambition than any genuine desire to protect the kingdom.
But the more Harris considered the offer, the more he realized that there might be another way to secure Duke Kindlay's support—one that didn't involve his sister at all.
"I'll make you a counteroffer," Harris said slowly, leaning back in his chair. "You pledge your support to my claim for the throne, and I'll give you control over a significant portion of the kingdom's military. Your family has always had ties to the military, but if I'm king, I'll ensure that you have a direct hand in military strategy."
Kindlay's eyes lit up with interest, though he remained composed. "That's a generous offer, Your Highness. But what of Ruby?"
"She's not part of this," Harris said firmly. "But if you support me, you'll have more influence than any noble could dream of."
Kindlay seemed to consider this for a moment, his eyes flicking over Harris as if calculating his next move. Finally, he gave a slow nod, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Very well, Harris. You have my support. For now."
Harris's eyes darkened slightly at the implication, but he nodded nonetheless. "Then we're in agreement."
Kindlay stood, offering his hand. Harris took it, their grip firm but tense. The deal had been struck, but both men knew that this was only the beginning.
As Harris watched Kindlay leave, he felt the weight of the coming conflict settle over him once again. He had secured the support of one of Ustaria's most powerful nobles, but he knew that the fight for the throne was far from over. The court was still a battlefield, and he would need every weapon at his disposal to claim what was rightfully his.
And Harris was prepared to do whatever it took—even if it meant making alliances with men like Duke Kindlay Windsor.