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Apart from Benedikt’s assistant, Matthias, there were half a dozen witnesses to today’s formalities. All male, all holding important government positions, and all serious, their expressions ranging from sombre to aghast, making her feel more than ever like an unwelcome outsider.
Annalena kept her expression serene despite the crash of her heart against her ribs.
Benedikt sat at the desk, signing document after document with a confident flourish.
With their dark suits and long faces, the men gave a funereal air to the proceedings.
Annalena’s green and silver dirndl seemed festive, almost frivolous by comparison. But her new wardrobe wasn’t ready and these were the only formal clothes she’d brought.
How would these disapproving men have looked if she’d appeared in jeans and a T-shirt, the ones she wore for exploring the vast palace grounds? Her lips twitched and she looked up to see Matthias nod genially in her direction.
That tiny show of solidarity warmed her. She’d tried not to dwell on negative thoughts but felt very much alone.
Half an hour ago Benedikt had told her she was doing the right thing. But it was hard to believe, now their agreement was about to become real.
He put his pen down and stood, his gaze catching hers.
More warmth, a sizzle that flooded her body and made her pulse beat hard and low, but Annalena didn’t trust it. He made her feel things she shouldn’t. How could she believe his reassurances?
You have no other option.
She was in a corner with no escape.
Squaring her shoulders, she walked to the desk and sat. The royal desk, a huge antique used by generations of kings. Now here she was, an interloper.
She might have a right to sit here because of the blood that flowed in her veins, but it felt wrong. Obviously those around her felt the same. Her life was supposed to be elsewhere. She had a career, friends—
Benedikt’s strong hand appeared before her, holding a gold fountain pen. ‘When you’re ready, Annalena.’
He stood close but didn’t crowd her. She had a momentary flash of surprise, registering that she’d grown accustomed to him being near. Her body still reacted with regrettable predictability when he got close, but he didn’t intimidate her. It was the disapproving old men glowering from the far side of the desk who did that.
She took the pen, straightened her shoulders and smiled coolly at her audience, refusing to let them see she was rattled. A couple of nervous smiles met hers.
Perhaps they weren’t all disapproving, just concerned.
Who could blame them? She wasn’t cut out for this, knew nothing about ruling the country.
Focus on the positive. You’re a quick learner. You have some skills and people you can consult when in doubt.
Suppressing a sigh, she looked at the papers before her. In a gesture of good faith, Benedikt had signed first, ending the dam project, then signing the marriage contract and the documents giving her the right to rule jointly with him.
Even so, she read every word, ignoring the restless shuffle of feet. Finally, when she managed to steady her hand, she began to sign.
The final document was the marriage agreement.
Annalena flexed her fingers. They were stiff as if she’d been writing all morning. The words blurred, formal clauses turning into gobbledygook.
She blinked, trying to clear her vision.
She wasn’t a romantic, but she’d assumed one day she’d marry for love. Or at least marry someone she liked.
Did she like Benedikt?
Sometimes she liked him too much. There were times when it felt as if they hovered on the brink of something more than reluctant acceptance.
Don’t you want more than acceptance? Don’t you want to be valued for yourself? Not for your claim to the throne?
Annalena swallowed over the constriction in her throat. She didn’t have that luxury. Yet this felt wrong, promising to share her life,herselfwith a man she barely knew.