For the first time in my life, I was not afraid of him.

My grandmother's ring was around Libby's finger and the promise it represented bolstered my courage. This time tomorrow morning, once I made my decision public, the rest of the court would bow down before her as their future queen. She would fidget and squirm and I would do my best not to grin like an idiot at her, eager to introduce the woman I loved to the rest of the world. Treaty be damned, I was going to marry her and no one else.

When I pushed the study door open, father's flinty stare met mine. I didn't hesitate as I took the seat opposite him, his fingers steepled as he surveyed me. We'd been through this routine so many times before that I knew what was expected of me. This time, however, the stakes were that much higher, so I willed my racing heart to calm itself.

"You've played this very well," father said finally, interrupting the ticking of the grandfather clock that had overtaken the silence between us.

"I haven't played anything," I replied. His head tipped ever so slightly and I steeled myself for the upcoming debate.

"I'm only using your analogy," he shrugged, "A pawn in my game, if I recall correctly. I daresay you ought to think a little more highly of yourself, you're at the very least a knight. Useful, but not as dangerous as you might think."

I felt my cheeks heat, but I held my tongue. If he drove me to lose my temper, I would lose the fight.

"At least I don't have to destroy everything in my path to get where I want to go," I said, playing along. He quirked an unamused eyebrow.

"Indeed," he said, dropping his steely gaze from mine to the papers set out before him, "Though whatever piece you consider yourself now is irrelevant. You know as well as anyone that you have always been destined to become king."

"I proposed to her," I said flatly. His eyes met mine once again, his brows crashing down in hostile disbelief. I forced myself not to squirm under his unblinking stare.

"Did you think I would take this lightly?" he demanded finally, leaning back in his chair to study me over steepled fingers once again.

"I love her and I'm marrying her. If you'd bothered to include me in any of your negotiations this wouldn't have hap-" I started.

"You are the crown prince! You do not have the luxury of marrying for love!" father roared, standing. He leaned over the desk, towering over me, but I refused to cower.

"Is that your threat, then? My crown?" I asked. His fingers curled into fists on the desk. I knew he hated the idea of Thomas as king more than Thomas himself did. To father, Thomas was no more than a troublesome and self-centered adolescent, more eager to rile our people rather than appease them. He didn't see the value in my brother's uncanny ability to bend people to his will, mostly because he considered Thomas a reckless force that could not be properly harnessed. What he failed to realize, however, was that Thomas' abilities didn't need harnessing, not if he cared about you.

"If it were, would you give up the girl?" he asked, seating himself as his jaw clenched in frustration.

"No," I replied instantly. I felt a fleeting hint of relief that I'd guessed his move before he'd made it, but what worried me more was that he was sitting down to negotiate despite his trump card being off the table.

"Then you leave me no choice," he said, looking to the door leading to his library, "Please come join us, Bishop Archibald."

As the Bishop of Highcastle took a wary step out of the shadowy library, my breath caught in my throat. Thomas was supposed to be announcing my engagement before him with the requisite three witnesses at this very moment. If he hadn't yet, then my ring and my promise meant nothing. I realized too late that I hadn't schooled my expression as the holy man took the seat beside me, resting a gnarled old hand on my shoulder in greeting. Bishop Archibald gave me a kind smile as he settled himself, hands clasped as he politely awaited the king's next words. Father had been watching me the whole time, finally leaning back in his chair in satisfaction.

"My son is engaged," the king said finally, plucking his quill from the desk as he dipped it into the inkwell.

"A hearty congratulations, Andrew," Bishop Archibald said. I looked over at him in dismay. I'd known the bishop all my life and he meant his words; he was a kind man, but unfortunately for me, he always kept strictly to the rules.

"To Elizabeth Marks-Whelan!" I said, leaping from my chair. It clattered over backwards, the bishop jumping at my sudden motion. All too late I realized that I'd played into father's trap exactly as he's intended me to. He must have known that I would attempt something to subvert him, which was confirmed by Libby's startling entrance into the ceremony earlier. I'd been a fool to tell him of my engagement before I was sure Thomas had spoken to the bishop, but then I'd been an even bigger fool for thinking I could out-maneuver him without any consequences.

"Wouldn't that be a hearty joke?" Father smiled, sanding the wet ink of his signature as he looked over to the shocked bishop, "As you can see here, Andrew has consented to marry Princess Dulciana, per the terms of our treaty with Ardalone."

"You liar!" I snarled, lunging for the papers, but father was quicker. He passed the signed document over to the bishop, who hesitated before reading it.

"I see," Bishop Archibald said finally, his troubled gaze settling on me.

"I am engaged to Elizabeth!" I protested, "I have three witnesses!"

The bishop shifted uneasily in his chair, handing the treaty back to the king.

"Be that as it may, a document signed by not one king, but two, supersedes the testimony of three witnesses," the bishop said, pity in his honey brown eyes, "Under our laws, Andrew, I must respect your father's wishes."

I reeled backward, nearly tumbling over the chair as I staggered towards the door.

"You are a filthy, manipulative bastard!" I snarled at the king, who rose in protest at my words.

"You will do as I say, Andrew! Or so help me I will have her killed!" he thundered. My back slammed up against the door as the breath was knocked from my lungs. I stared at him, gasping raggedly for air.

"You wouldn't," I managed, but the cruel tilt of his head told me that he would. He'd played me so successfully into a corner that I could barely think straight. He'd signed the treaty and informed the bishop, all while threatening to murder the woman I loved. For all I knew, he could force me to marry Dulciana tomorrow, now that the head of the church had been informed.

"I won't consent to this," I said, hatred and desperation flooding my thoughts, "You can march me up to the altar but I will not say the words for anyone but Libby!"

"It is your duty to your country," the king said coldly, "And don't think you can foist this on your brother by abdicating. Henceforth, with Bishop Archibald as my witness, you are named as my sole heir."

"As you wish, your Majesty," the bishop said quietly, inclining his head.

"You're a monster," I shouted at my father, unable to fight the sting of frustrated tears as every carefully laid part of my plan crumbled to pieces.

"I am a king," he said matter-of-factly, "And you would do well not to forget that the next time you try to plot against me."

***

I don't remember the walk from father's study to mother's solar, but I remember the looks on their faces upon my entry. They were all there, everyone from the hallway except for Adelaide, happy smiles and laughter filling the air. Mother had produced champagne and the late afternoon sunlight flooding the windows glistened off the crystal flutes.

"Here he is! The man of the...wait, what's wrong?" Thomas said, abandoning the glass of champagne he'd extended towards me onto the nearest side table.

"The bishop," I said, holding his gaze if only so I wouldn't have to look at her.

"The bishop? Yes, he's to meet us here as soon as he arrives from the cathedral," Thomas said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders to lead me to a corner of the room. I could feel her eyes on me as Thomas wheeled me around to hide my face.

"He was with father," I said, knowing that he didn't need any further explanation. My brother's eyes widened as she shot a look at her over my shoulder towards her.

"He signed the treaty," Thomas muttered in utter disbelief.

"I'm to marry Dulciana or he'll kill her," I said. I felt hollow inside, as if everything I'd felt after calling Libby's name and kneeling before her hadn't happened. The glow of happiness that had lit my heart aflame had sputtered out, replaced by a numb void. I felt as if the rug had been swept out from beneath me and now I was lying on the cold marble floor, breathless and dazed as the world spun wildly out of control around me.

Thomas swore under his breath, calling our father all sorts of vile names.

"Is something the matter?"

Mother's voice interrupted us, her quiet footsteps approaching as she laid a hand on Thomas' shoulder.

"He signed the treaty," I said, squeezing my eyes closed to keep from seeing the pity that would soon invade her face. If I saw it, I'd shatter, and I couldn't afford to break, not at a time like this. Mother's startled intake of breath was matched by yet more curses from Thomas.

"Then we'll go to the bishop," she said, "Come, the both of you, we'll go right now and-"

"He got to him first," Thomas said quietly, as I threw his hands from my shoulders to turn towards the window. I braced myself against it, the icy pane a welcome shock against the bare skin of my hand. The cold, snow-crusted world outside was too perfect for a day like today. The gardens sparkled with ice, my breath fogging the cold glass before me.

I felt her presence before she touched me, the gentle hand on my back enough to clench my stomach into as tight a knot as I'd ever felt.

"Andrew?" she asked, her voice tiny. Or perhaps it was just the thunder of my blood in my ears muffling the world around me. I forced my expression into neutrality, hating that she'd have to face a future king instead of Andrew when I turned to her.

Libby's blue eyes were wide with panic as they searched my face, no doubt having picked up on what had transpired. Her chest was heaving, rising and falling as she struggled to maintain her composure, but she didn't move, waiting for me to speak.

"I love you so much," I said, gathering her into my arms so she wouldn't see my tears.

**A/N: The ending is approaching, lovely readers! I'm hoping to post another chapter tomorrow (you don't have to remind me that this was a sad one! It was probably just as hard to write as it was to read...) so I won't keep you waiting too long! I also know that it was shorter than the last few, but I felt this part needed to be included as the jump back to Libby's POV just wouldn't make sense without it :) **