Hi, everybody! It’s been a bit since I’ve hopped along, but I’m back this weekend with some more from my swords and sorcery menage story, Radiq. To catch up with what’s come before, click here.
Vadim groaned inwardly.
His father’s oration was sure to immobilize any of the guests that remained awake; Vadim was already numb from Almarga’s conceited and self-aggrandizing disdain of all things Thessalian, which she didn’t bother to hide—even from her future son-in-law. Then why I am marrying your daughter?
He knew that answer unfortunately. The long-running border struggle between the two countries was draining resources—gold, horses, men—faster than either kingdom could replenish them. So to resolve the conflict, he and Allianna were to be sacrificed on the altar of political solution. Not that he had ever expected to be able to marry for love—he was the Crown Prince, his father’s only son—but Corusq had never figured into that calculation.
The arithmetic of his future had always counted that he would do his duty in spite of the pull of his own desire. Vadim had at least considered the possibility that he might come to care in some fashion for his future wife. However, Allianna was cold. Not shy or aloof—that he believed he could have coaxed her away from—but unfeeling, unempathic. Her violet eyes were empty; he would have said soulless were he inclined to be spiritual.
Not like the desire that smoldered in Radiq’s sapphire blue gaze.
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