The King scoffed, his lips curving into a wry, astonished smile as his piercing gaze swept over her. Who could have foreseen that the rumored timid Duchess, wife of the Duke, would possess the audacity to propose marriage to him?
He had often wondered what manner of woman Quinn's mate might be, and to his surprise, she stood in stark contrast to the meek figure he had imagined. If truth be told, he was impressed, this encounter served as a sharp reminder of the disadvantage of judging a book by its cover. Her boldness was nothing short of remarkable.
Turning on his heel, the King strode purposefully toward the grand chair at the center of the room, his voice cold as he asked, "And why, pray, should I aid you in this venture?"
"You shall, Your Majesty," she replied with unwavering confidence, prompting him to halt mid-stride and cast a sharp glance back at her.
"Bold, are we?" He remarked with a smirk, shaking his head as he finally took his seat.
"It is not boldness, but certainty," she returned, her tone steady. "You find me intriguing, and your curiosity will compel you to learn more. Moreover, you are bound by a curse to remain without a mate. I am your finest option."
Her words hung in the air, unapologetic and deliberate. Though she was no expert in the ways of men, she was not ignorant of their desires. She had caught the way his gaze lingered upon her from the moment she entered the room, a mixture of interest and fascination. While she dared not assume affection, she knew his curiosity was strong enough to secure her footing.
The King chuckled, brushing an invisible speck of dust from his gloved hand. "There are countless women who would vie for such a position. Do not be so certain of yourself, Belle." Her name fell from his lips in a tone so smooth and seductive that she faltered for a moment, her breath catching. Though tempted to hear him utter it again, she thought better of it and cleared her throat instead.
"They may vie, but they all know of your curse," she replied, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. "You have tried to claim a Queen before, and each one has ended her life before the wedding night. They fear you."
A heavy silence fell. For a fleeting moment, she regretted her boldness, her heart quickening at the thought of overstepping. Yet she reminded herself that King Hezekiah was no tyrant. He did not spill blood without cause, and this granted her a measure of reassurance.
"You know much," he said finally, his tone unreadable. "I suppose I have Quinn to thank for that."
She nodded, confirming his suspicion. Quinn's frustration over the King's predicament had often been the subject of his venting. At the time, she had paid it little heed as she had no interest in the King, but the knowledge now served her well.
"And so I ask again," she said, her voice softening. "Will you help me?"
He rose from his chair with deliberate grace, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Did you not just claim I would help you? And yet, here you contradict yourself."
With a wave of his hand, he summoned a guard to step forward, leaving her uncertain as to what lay ahead.
"Delay the guests who have excused themselves to the retiring room for a few minutes," the King commanded. Without hesitation, the guard bowed and promptly exited the chamber.
Once the door closed, Hezekiah clasped his hands behind his back, pacing about a fixed spot.
He began, his tone sharp, "Firstly, I have no patience for pitiable women and shall not assist you in establishing yourself within these palace walls. Secondly, I trust you have no intention of conceiving a child while still residing in the Duke's household?" His brow arched as he posed the question.
Belle, unflinching, responded, "I am to receive the divorce papers in two days. You may station one of your men to shadow me in secret until the documents are delivered. Once the matter is settled, he will report to you, and you may collect me on…THAT DAY." She emphasized the final words with deliberate weight, stirring the King's curiosity.
"Do you despise my closest friend to such a degree?" He inquired, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
"I do," she admitted, lowering her gaze momentarily before adding, "But that is not the reason. I shall have nowhere to go once the papers are signed." The admission, laden with quiet shame, rendered her vulnerable.
The King erupted in laughter, a deep and resonant sound that only deepened her discomfort. "How utterly delightful," he mocked, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement.
Ignoring his ridicule, Belle steadied herself with a deep breath, lifted her chin, and declared, "Let us draft a contract to formalize our agreement. I require assurance."
Hezekiah reacted normally to her proposal as he didn't find it disturbing. In truth, he had anticipated such a proposition and would have suggested it himself had she not spoken first. The contract would serve as a safeguard against future betrayal.
"I shall wed you and aid in your pursuit of vengeance…on one condition," he stated firmly.
"I cannot love you," Belle interrupted swiftly, presuming the condition. Her voice was resolute, her intent clear. Revenge was her sole aim, she had no desire to entangle her heart with another man, particularly one bound by the weight of a crown. A king's duty would always overthrow personal sentiment, and she had no intention of placing her trust in such a person.
"Calm yourself," Hezekiah replied, a wry smile playing on his lips. "If love were what I sought, I should not have undertaken the duty of parading for a Queen. My condition is that you gain some weight. I have no desire to be accused of child abuse." His jest was delivered with an ease that pricked at her pride.
Belle stiffened, her irritation evident. Was he mocking her for her unpleasant frame? Her fragile appearance was no fault of her own. Years of neglect and hardship in her husband's household had taken their toll. If she resembled a stick, it was merely a reflection of her trials, and while she understood his concerns, his remark annoyed her.
"Fine. A year, no more," she conceded, though not without setting her terms.
"I would have insisted upon two," he countered lightly, "but a year shall suffice. Very well, it is a bargain. Step forward."
Before she could obey, the door creaked open, and in walked Quinn and Sofia, their arrival causing her to pause mid-step.
"And what, pray, are you two doing?" The Duke asked.