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Well. She was angry. After years of hoping and praying for an opportunity to leave the palace she’d finally got one—only for him to stop her at the last moment. And not only that he’d accused her of being complicit in her father’s actions—whatever they had been—and now he was demanding that she marry him.
It seemed so unfair.
So she didn’t take it back. She said nothing as the silence stretched endlessly, clinging to the flickering anger that had sprung to life inside her like a life raft in a stormy sea.
Then, just when it seemed as if it wasn’t possible for the tension to stretch any tighter, Tiberius made a dismissive gesture with his hand. ‘Leave us,’ he ordered.
Almost as one, the assembled guards and other hangers-on turned and left the throne room, their footsteps scuffing on the parquet as they disappeared through the doorway.
Guinevere turned too, a surge of relief making her knees weak.
‘Not you,’ Tiberius said.
Guinevere watched as the throne room doors shut behind the vanishing guards with a heavythunk, then took a shaken breath and turned back to the throne.
Tiberius had risen to his full height. And then her mouth dried completely as he began to walk down the steps of the dais towards her, stalking her like a tiger stalked a gazelle.
CHAPTER TWO
Tiberius went downthe stairs of the dais towards her, knowing full well that he didn’t have time for idle chatter with an Accorsi. Yet that little show of spirit she’d displayed just before had intrigued him, especially given how white-faced and shaking she’d been only minutes before.
He’d been hoping to give the command for the marriage to go ahead immediately, since the priest was already at hand, but a quick discussion with her privately seemed to be in order. He didn’t want to put yet another potential Accorsi tyrant on the Queen’s throne, so it would pay to do at least a little due diligence on the kind of woman he intended to marry.
He couldn’t believe she’d actually snapped at him.
No one had ever dared take that tone with him—not for many years—and yet this little woman…this apparently terrified little woman…had somehow mustered up the courage to chastise the man who’d just taken back his throne for calling her a mouse.
Interesting.
He preferred women with spirit and backbone—in a queen both were vital—and it appeared that, despite appearances, Guinevere Accorsi seemed to have at least a hint of both. That was promising. After all, it wouldn’t do for her to be as pale and trembling in front of the public as she’d been in front of him.
Her big blue eyes widened as he approached, her cheeks ashen. There was dust in her hair and on her dress, and a smear of it across one pale cheekbone. That must have come from the secret corridors she’d been scurrying around in, which wouldn’t do. His queen shouldn’t look like Miss Havisham waiting in vain for her lover. He would have to instruct her not to go into them again.
Tiberius stopped in front of her. The top of her head only came up to his chest so he had to look down. She really was very small and delicately built, gazing up at him from beneath long, pale lashes. It wasn’t a flirtatious look. It was more like a deer staring at a wolf with wide, frightened eyes.
Weren’t you supposednotto be threatening to innocent women?
He wasn’t being threatening. And she wasn’t innocent—not the daughter of Renzo Accorsi. She’d grown up here. She must be aware of what kind of person her father was, and how badly he’d mismanaged Kasimir. And who was to say that she wasn’t the same? Or at least cut from the same cloth? Her twin brothers certainly were, by all accounts.
‘I will not hurt you,’ he said, just so she was clear. ‘I sent my guards away so we can talk without an audience.’
This did not seem to make any difference to the fear in her eyes. ‘T-talk about what?’
‘About your suitability as my queen.’ He gave her another considering glance. ‘And also about showing proper respect for the King, especially in front of my guards.’
That glimpse of spirit he’d seen just before, when she’d snapped at him, glowed like blue embers once again. But all she said was, ‘Oh.’
The contrast between her fear and her defiance was fascinating. Was it really bravery? Because, if so, that was an admirable quality in a queen.
‘They do not like Accorsis,’ he said mildly. ‘So it would be as well not to give them any excuse to dislike you even more.’
Her sharp little chin lifted. ‘I won’t apologise. I don’t like being called a mouse.’
Something shifted inside him like the earth settling after an earthquake. A certain…interest. She was his captive, and she was afraid, and surely the most logical thing for her to do now would be to ingratiate herself with him. That was what he was expecting—especially from a cowardly Accorsi.
Yet here she was, doing the opposite.
‘A simpleNo, Your Majesty, I am not trying to bargain with youwould have sufficed,’ he murmured. ‘What is it about a mouse you find so distasteful?’