The palace guards led her to the war room. She followed them silently already getting a headache trying to guess why the king had summoned her. Reaching no comforting end, she settled for the obvious. 'It has to be about my marriage to his son.' she convinced herself.
After she was announced to the king, the huge wooden doors were opened by the two guards stationed outside. Charlotte marveled at the war room. This was one of the rooms that were forbidden to them as kids.
She remembered going in once with her father, but she must have been too young for she could hardly recall the magnificence in front of her.
The War room was small compared to other rooms in the palace, but its magnificence could still not be overlooked. She walked into the dimly lit room and couldn't help but stare.
At the center of the room was a huge wooden table, a detailed map of the kingdom and its neighbors spread across the table, with miniature models of castles, armies, and villages on it. The thick stone walls were covered in shelves lined with scrolls of more maps and military reports and strategies. There were no chairs or stools in the room.
The king was hunched over the table in conversation with a knight Charlotte had never seen in the castle before. She took no notice of him as she continued to marvel at the maps on the table. She had never seen such detail on paper before.
Her curtsy was cut off by the king.
"No such formalities here my dear," the king said walking around the table to her and tapping her shoulder. "We are all soldiers in this room, manners would be a waste of time."
Charlotte remained silent. The king had not yet asked her a direct question or given her permission to speak, and despite his insistence on the lack of formalities she wouldn't risk getting on his bad side today.
"Marvelous isn't it?" The king asked her waving his hand around the room.
"Breathtaking," she answered, and it was not just a formality. The air around the room was intoxicating. Charlotte imagined herself hunched over the same table with another knight and the image pleased her. She felt like she belonged in the room.
"Fredrick loved this room." The king said. His voice was grave.
Charlotte bowed her head. "My condolences your Highness," she answered.
The king hummed in response. He walked to the door. "Walk with me dear," he said, putting on a coat handed to him by one of the guards at the door.
Charlotte bowed to the knight at the table and turned to follow the king out.
She walked a step behind him. Two guards followed them. They walked through the palace in silence, towards the doors at the back of the palace that led to the gardens. Charlotte prayed she got the chance to speak to him in private.
The guards at the doors bowed before opening the big doors and letting the cold air in. The weather seemed to have chilled since morning. A small shiver went down her spine as she followed the king outside.
Her training tunic would not do much to shield her from the biting wind. She cursed herself for not changing earlier, but then she had been too preoccupied with her world falling apart.
The king indicated for the guards to wait at the entrance to the gardens and Charlotte followed him in. The royal gardens were one of the most beautiful places in the palace. For Charlotte, the old forgotten vineyard took first place, but that was more about the memories made there than beauty.
The garden was filled with exquisite flowers, medicinal herbs, and birds, that could hardly compete with the wildflowers, hooked weeds, and mice in the old vineyard.
She followed the king through the garden, trailing her hands along the trimmed hedges that lined the graveled path, and waiting for her opportunity.
The path led to a small flower bed, with a wide variety of flowers most of which Charlotte had never seen, let alone heard of. The king plucked one of the flowers. Half of its petals were pink and the other white. Charlotte had never seen anything like it.
The king sniffed it and handed it to her. She took the flower and thanked him.
"So, I hear you are to be my daughter-in-law," he said, fingering another one of the flowers.
Charlotte caught the scoff that threatened to leave her mouth, but not the sarcastic remark, "So do I." Immediately regretted it and already began looking through her brain for an adequate apology, but the king only laughed.
"I knew you had a sense of humor, unlike your father," he said, giving her a look she sensed she was supposed to share. "Such a boring, man, always so serious! I wonder how you deal with him." He sighed.
Charlotte felt the need to defend her father. He was one of the funniest people she knew. But before she could answer, he plucked another flower and turned to look at her,
"The palace maids didn't find you in your room, your father was a little worried, but I assured him that you were a clever girl, you wouldn't do anything to displease me, right?" The easy smile on his face was gone. He stared straight into her eyes with an intensity that stopped Charlotte's heart.
Her throat dry and her words gone, Charlotte only shook her head. The king handed her the new flower, "That's what I thought." Charlotte's hand took the flower while she stood numbly like a bystander in her own body.
"You could have embarrassed the palace and my son if he had come and found you gone," he paused and watched her.
Charlotte's face flushed. She had not thought about that.
"Thankfully we decided to wait a while, and get you two reacquainted before Oliver asks for your hand, I hear you had a falling out?"
She remained quiet, sensing that he was not asking her a question.
The easy smile and kindness returned to the king's face and Charlotte felt her fear ease. "But then your father had this wild idea that you were being forced to marry into the palace, is that how you feel Charlotte dear?"
Charlotte stared at him, she knew she was cornered. There was only one right answer to the king's question, and it was not the truth. She racked her brain for an answer that would not displease the king. This was her opportunity. He cleared his throat and she lifted her eyes to find him watching her closely.
"No," her mouth answered. "But I'm afraid that perhaps Oli… His Highness might not feel the same," she added.
"Oh, that hardly matters, you are a lovely creature. He would be a fool not to love you. And you're a clever girl, I'm sure you'll find a way to convince my son." He sounded almost sarcastic.
"Perhaps I'm not the suitable choice, I'm a warrior, not a leader-"
"Don't be silly dear, all great leaders were once great warriors." The king cut her off, smiling sweetly. "Unless, Charlotte, it is my judgment you doubt?" he added. No longer smiling.
Charlotte wondered how he managed to change his expressions so fast. Her heart was beating faster now, blood rushing to her face and the tips of her ears. The intensity of her headache increased.
"No, Your Highness, I would never." She bowed her head. "I apologize, I was only suggesting that perhaps-"
"Did you know that your father was the acting head of security this week?" The king cut her off, turning away from her. "Captain Blackwood had to leave for a family emergency, such a shame, my son was killed under his watch. You know, some people would wonder how."
Charlotte was dumbstruck. Her blood ran cold. She shivered visibly, and it had nothing to do with the cold weather. The flowers were suddenly heavy in her hands.
The king was not finished. "But then again, such a loyal man, your father." he turned to face her, holding yet another flower.
"Did you know he fought beside me in the great war? Would be a shame, if anything were to happen to him, you would be an orphan. But you know you are like a daughter to me, right? You will lack for nothing as long as I'm alive." He handed her the freshly plucked flower. Charlotte took it and added it to the other two.
The king smiled and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. "But now that you are part of the family, everyone is safer. You are a great fighter, Ironheart says, even better than my son." He chuckled. "I'll see you at dinner." He tapped her shoulder and walked away.
Charlotte remained in the garden, frozen in place. The three flowers stuck to her hand. She had never stood a chance against the king. There had never been the option to convince him of another candidate. This was not a marriage of convenience, it was a marriage of insurance.
Charlotte realized that she was just a chip dangled in front of her father to keep him in line.