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4.54% Shall I Make You King? / Chapter 1: 'For starters, is he old?'
Shall I Make You King? Shall I Make You King? original

Shall I Make You King?

作者: MICHIKOMIYU

© WebNovel

章節 1: 'For starters, is he old?'

 

CHAPTER ONE

"Listen well and remember this, Isa," I looked up to my father when he mentioned my name. I was sitting on his lap as we gazed at the star-filled sky, the soft breeze of a spring night embraced us. I couldn't sleep so I went to his room for a snuggle. "The world is like this night sky. It's big and wide, right?" 

I nodded, saying, "From there all the way over there." Pointing my finger to the right then making a huge gesture to the left. "What about it?"

"That's you're world, my darling. From there all the way over there." Father made the same gesture as I did. "And maybe even beyond that! We'll never know…" he smiled then hugged me which made me giggle because his stubble poked the side of my cheek. "And the stars? They're your endless possibilities."

"Endless possibilities?" I repeated, confused. How can they be my possibilities? They're stars, they're not going anywhere.

"Yes. Because as long as there are stars in the sky, there's always a possibility—an opportunity. Some might be big like that one… some, colorful like a rainbow, like…"—I followed where his finger pointed, looking for a star that sparkled in different colors—"like that! Or it can be small and hard to see, like that little one. But nonetheless, they're all there." I titled my head, still confused. I was just seven. All these talking about stars and possibilities made my head spin, and I guess my father realized that too.

"Uh…" he scratched his chin, "what I'm trying to say is, Isa, just like how much stars there are in the sky, you have as much possibility in life as well. You can be anything you want, my little Isa. Don't let other people tell you what you can and can't do."

"Anything I want?" I repeated softly, my eyes and smile wide. I looked at the stars and saw countless of them! "I can be like Ingrid? Or Chef Jul? Or, or!" I waived my hands, "Or like Uncle Quinn! I'll wear glasses and pants and—ooh…" I gasped, covered my mouth and with a whisper I said with sparkling eyes, "maybe… maybe I can be dragon."

Father laughed out loud, he embraced me tighter after planting a kiss on my forehead. "Anything you want, my darling. Even a dragon."

But unbeknownst to my seven-year-old self, not all possibilities are in my favor. I have to choose ones that are.

***** 

It had been fifteen years since then. The blood-curdling scream of the maidservant who saw the bloody and lifeless body of my father still haunts me from time to time. But that's all in the past now. With the countless possibilities handed to me, I gave it no room in my head.

I am the proud great granddaughter of Englebert Montcroix, a legendary businessman, and landlord, in his own right. I will not fall short of that expectation—however, there's always a downside to being an achiever. As I dedicated most of my time helping Quinn govern Vlona and take care of our businesses, there's one thing I haven't given much thought of.

Marriage.

Marriage wasn't such a big deal when I was fifteen. Quinn had just given me a small capital then and told me to make it grow. Business was in my blood so I thought that much wouldn't be a problem. As my friends traveled and went on parties from dawn to dusk, and accepted a handful of suitors, I, on the other hand, dedicated blood, sweat, and tears into my businesses and investments like my life depended on it.

I've had many suitors, of course, but as I said, I was too… preoccupied.

Days turned to weeks which turned to months then years, and now, I'm past the marriageable age.

I'm wealthy, though.

Far wealthier than most older men who thought their connections to other wealthy people made their bank accounts fat when in fact, they could hardly afford a high-end suit without mentioning such connections.

But the fact still remains, I'm single, and Ingrid said that if this continues in another year or two, I might have difficulties ever truly being married. She said I'd be labeled as an old maid!

If my governess told me any other reason—let's say, if I married too late, all the handsome young men would've been taken—I would've been okay with that. But an old maid? I don't want to be offensive; I don't want that. I want to have a family of my own. A husband who dotes on me and children who I'd love and care for most in the world.

Keeping all that in mind, when an envelope containing a marriage proposal was sent to my office at one of the stores that I manage, I didn't second guess and wrote a positive reply immediately.

------

Astor, was it?, I looked up to my ceiling in a daze as I waited to be called. Today's the day I'm leaving. I've heard about Baron Astor's family, but I didn't know any Count of the same name, nor any mention of one of his son's marrying into a Count's family. 

I was in deep thought when a knock sounded and made me flinch. "Your carriage is here, Miss Isa," one of the servants informed and I was quick on my feet. I took a few steps to my mirror and examined myself one last time.

This is it.

With a deep breath, I straightened my skirt and ran a palm through my hair to get rid of a few stubborn locks that tickled my cheek. I came out of the door in my best dress; a white and blue custom-made simple laced dress, with short sleeves and a square neckline which showcased a delicate gold necklace with a small blue diamond pendant. Spring's ending and the weather's been a menace lately. As much as I want to look more… conservative—marriage material—I can't stand the heat. 

"Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Quinn Mayer, my father's adopted brother and my only—considered—living family, asked on our way down the stairs. His voice low, and worried. "If you want, I can go with you." 

I chuckled softly, my hand hooked his arm, "No need, Uncle Quinn. I can take care of myself now," I faced him when we reached the doorway, "You and Ingrid taught me well." I smiled warmly, taking both his hands, I cupped it with mine.

I took a deep breath to throw away all my worries and hesitations, "Vlona needs you more than they need me. I would come and visit from time to time, and maybe next time I'll have a little one in tow, calling you Grandy like you always wanted." I kidded, but Quinn only flashed a sardonic face.

I hugged my old guardian and kissed him on both cheeks. He hugged me back even tighter. Whispering something sweet in my ear, giving me enough courage to step away from him and take the hand reached out to me by a fellow in uniform who introduced himself simply as Cosmo. I let him lead me to the carriage before I stopped at its door. Leaving the place where I grew up was hard, but a bird has to leave the nest eventually.

With another deep breath, I straightened my back and finally stepped inside the carriage. When I looked back, Quinn was stopping himself from crying and the others who came to see me off were all wiping their tears away, waving at me with a smile. I waved back, smiling at them, then I looked away. I couldn't bear to see their sad faces or I might start crying myself.

Truthfully, I didn't want to leave, but I have to spread my wings somewhere far—somewhere he can't reach me.

When Cosmo finished checking the other carriage with my things on, he hopped inside and closed the door. He tapped on the small window and slid it open to tell the coachman that we're ready to leave.

"Everything okay, Miss?" I looked up at my companion and smiled.

"I think I'm at a disadvantage here," I voiced, trying to shift the subject as the view of my castle and my people slowly disappeared into a thin line in the distance.

"About what, Miss?" Cosmo tilted his head like a cute pup. His slightly wavy brown hair and the scattered freckles on his face were in contrast to his towering height and muscular build.

"About you…"

"Me? What about me?"

"Well," I ran a quick scan of him from head to toe before I settled on his light brown eyes. "You certainly don't look like a servant, or a secretary, or someone who does paperwork. Judging from the way you sit, how crisp your uniform is, your haircut, your ragged yet dignified demeanor, and the small scars on your hand, I'd say you're probably a knight from a distinguished family, or maybe even a noble. Someone who trains regularly, holds a sword, and go into battle. Though, I'll be honest, I didn't think you'd introduce yourself as Cosmo. I'd name my horse Cosmo, matter-of-factly." I mumbled the last sentence because I didn't want to offend him, but I'm sure he heard it, given how attentive he seemed to be.

There was a moment of awkward silence between us two that made me want to apologize, then in a split second, laughter echoed in the carriage. "Cosmo…" he repeated, his eyes squinting as he laughed. "I'd name my pet Cosmo too, to be honest," he grinned. Wiping a tear off the side of his eye. "You have a good eye, my lady. I'm a knight serving under Count Astor, our commander."

"Judging by your battle scars, it hasn't been long since you came home from one?" I heard a ten-year long war in the rigged northern regions of the continent just ended a couple of months ago—wait, is that why I haven't heard of Count Astor? Because he's off in the north fighting for the kingdom? Or maybe his title was just given to him as a thank you for coming home alive?

The thought lingered in my mind. If he's a commander, that means he's strong, stubborn, authoritative… maybe even that sort of commander who thinks he's always right. Ooh, I'm not good with those kinds of people. They clash with my personality.

I massaged my temple. Have I dug my own grave?

Also, if he's a commander, and a Count to boot, that means he's had his fair share of women to keep him warm during the harshest of winters since that's seemed to be the only season in the north. And if he has slept with a number of women already, is he even safe? In a… you know, sexual aspect? I bet he'd have more scars than Cosmo, and more rugged… maybe even older?

Well, I hope he's not that old.

I shook my head to rid it of what popped into my mind. I shouldn't be jumping into conclusions about something so private such as a person's sex life. I've had my share of flirting here and there, but none I've bedded. I love the company, but that was just that. Talking—and maybe a lot of smiling and eyelashes fluttering. 

When I was little, I was told that we were just a family of merchants before my great grandfather purchased the largest available land in the outskirts of the city of Reka, and named it Vlona after my great grandmother.

After settling down, my great grandfather made sure to only hire the best of the best, until such time that when people hear the name Vlona, it's expected to be of the highest quality. May it be artisans, craftsmen, entertainers, laborers, and so on. Of course, a black sheep was to be expected in every family and mine wasn't any better.

We've had our share of misfortunes and struggles. It even came to a point where we had to sell some of our businesses to others just to make ends meet. But that's all in the past now. There's no point crying over spilled milk. What matters now is that we're thriving better than expected. I wouldn't say I contributed a lot, but it seemed that I have a way with words and people.

"You seem to be in deep thought, Miss. I hope you're not feeling homesick already." I turned my attention to Cosmo and flashed another faint smile. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't feeling homesick, but I just left my home for the… unknown. I'm worried about what's lying wait for me there, but at the same time eager for the challenge.

"Could you perhaps… tell me some information about your master? I seem to be lacking a lot of it."

"What do you want to know?"

"For starters, is he old?" There's no harm in asking who I'll be sharing my bed with when I get there. The sooner I know, the more prepared I can be.

"Hmm," Cosmo sounded, looking out the window as he caressed his chin. "Let's see… He is older than me, which means he is older than you."

"Any disabilities?" I mumbled loud enough and Cosmo gave me a judgmental stare. "What? I wouldn't be asking this if he only sent me at least a portrait of him."

The fellow contemplated before saying, "He has a lot of scars all over his body. His hands are huge. I think he's taller than you by a mile. What else?"

"Does he have mistresses… lovers? Around how many are we talking about?" Cosmos stopped and stared at me again for a heartbeat, blinking his eyes. "I want to manage my expectations." I said, clearing my throat as I looked the other way, the tip of my ears warming up. I mentally reprimanded myself but as I've said, I'm trying to manage my expectations.

"Well," the knight scratched the back of his head, suddenly shy as he averted my eyes. "One or two before, I guess? He's the commander after all. Women flock to his feet even if he didn't want to. Plus…" he looked the other way, "plus… the northern regions can be cold at night. So…" he glanced at me and shook his head. "But I can assure you, Miss, that he hasn't been with a woman since we came home!" Cosmo clenched his fist to emphasize his statement as he tried to sound proud, but I don't think that's something to be proud about.

But then again, I wasn't called the 'Enchantress of Vlona' for nothing. I chuckled at the thought. The nickname stuck to me after years of hearing it that I associate with it nowadays. I'm not pleased about it, but good looks are meant to be shared with others—or so they always told me. And they're not entirely wrong. I mean, I've buttered my way up to the top of the social ladder by acting mysterious and just flaunting my figure and face when I could.

It's good for business.

My thoughts were cut short when I saw Cosmo looking at me at the side of my eye, "You seem to be in a good mood, my lady," he said.

"There's no point in feeling otherwise." I shifted in my seat so I can look out the window comfortably and inhale the sceneries. "Tell me about your time as a knight. I want to hear about it," I said and with a beam, Cosmo indulged me with the details. He seemed like the talkative type, and will probably let a thing, or two, about his commander slip in his mouth.


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