“Whoa! Are you running from a marriage proposal?” I glanced wide-eyed at the king. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Bishop VanGrew with a full-blown grin on his face. I was glad somebody was amused.
“Not running. More like dodging.” The King gestured for me to have a seat. “Let’s get comfortable while I explain. Bishop, could you manage to procure some ale for us? I suspect our friend here may need it.” The Bishop nodded and backed out of the room. The King eased down into the chair next to me.
“The marriage contract you have in your hand is a contract between Lady Myst of the House of Stark and the King of Targaryen. If fulfilled, the contract will ensure peace on our northern borders. Say, istn’t that where your hamlet lies? Hmmmm, I suppose that peace would benefit your small hamlet?”
“Well, yes. We would have no more troubles with the blood-thirsty raiders, but why do you want me to pretend to be king?”
“Not pretend. Be king.”
“Huh?” That queasy feeling in my stomach danced its way up my throat. I gulped, swallowing the bile.
“It’s simple really,” The king said. “I can’t marry Lady Myst because I am in love with her aunt, Queen Hannah of the House of Stark.” The king’s eyes glazed over and his voice grew wistful. “So beautiful…. raven hair, eyes the color of the sky, and her lips…. ahhhh, her lips….” He shook himself, rousting the image from his mind. “Unfortunately, her husband the King of Stark might object to that union, which, of course, would be very bad for your little hamlet.” The king raised an eyebrow as if to check that I was following him.
I nodded dumbly. “Very bad.”
“So that’s where you come in.” The king grinned. “The contract just says “The King of Targaryen.” If I am not King, then I am not the one who will marry Lady Myst. You will. After the deed is done, I will return from the dead and reclaim the throne. And if something were to happen to the King of Targaryen while I am away, well then…..”
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