“And, what?”
“And, if I do, what becomes of her mother? A dying wish, you said.”
“Her wish is to see her daughter safely wed to a man who will take care of her, love her, provide for her.”
“But if she does not marry your uncle—”
“She will marry me.”
The king’s face was expressionless.
“You would make this sacrifice to save the girl?”
Kaz took a deep breath.
“I would make no sacrifice, Grandfather. I love her. And I have every reason to believe that she loves me.”
Silence descended over the room. Then, slowly, the king rose to his feet.
“And if I do not agree to this?”
Kaz’s face hardened. “Gregor Rostov is to meet me in ten minutes. I will tell him that he must withdraw from the agreement he has made with you.”
“It is not wise to withdraw from agreements one has made with a king.”
“It is less wise to anger a man who knows your darkest financial secrets, Grandfather, especially when that man is willing and able to advise three boards of directors that one of their major shareholders is scheming to make hostile takeovers of their companies.”
“You are completely serious about wanting this woman.”
“I am completely serious about being in love with her. If you handle this with some care, Rostov will be able to consider himself as a winner. His fortune will remain intact. His daughter will be married to a man of whom you and the council approve. His wife will be happy to see her comfortably wed. Not to your heir, no, but to a man of some influence, some power—”
“You are wrong, Grandson.”
“I am right! If you will only listen—”
The king put his hand on Kaz’s shoulder.
“You are wrong about what Rostov’s wife will see.” His voice softened. “Ekaterina Rostov will marry my heir.” He paused, and a real smile curved his mouth. “You, Kazimir. You are my heir.”
Kaz knew he had faults, but being speechless had never been one of them. He stared at his grandfather and, after what seemed an eternity, he finally said, “What?”
“The council and I have known for a very long time that your uncle—my only remaining son— is not fit to lead our people.” The old man’s eyes darkened. “It was a painful thing to admit, that I sired two sons and that neither grew to become the right kind of man.”
“You’ve known this for a very long time? Then, why—”
“We are an old, even an ancient people, my grandson. We abound in legends, things you would say are foolish remnants of the past.” He smiled. “Had you been born here, you would have grown up on stories of knights and dragons, of men of honor who had to perform impossible tasks before winning their castles and kingdoms. And their princesses.”
Kaz shook his head in bewilderment. “I don’t understand.”
“The council agreed that you are a genius when it comes to numbers and business, but it had its doubts about how you would deal with things that are not so logical. A king must be like Solomon. He must make wise decisions even when wise decisions seem impossible. He must be willing to stand up for what he believes to be right, no matter what the cost.”
“Let me get this straight,” Kaz said slowly. “You never intended to marry Katie to Dmitri.”
“Start by saying that we never intended that Dmitri be the next king. Not for the past several years, at any rate. And then, no, we did not intend to see Ekaterina marry him. I must be honest, Kazimir, and tell you that that it had less to do with concern for her than with our knowing that her father was not a man we wanted so close to the Sardovian throne.”
“If I someday sit on that throne, Rostov will still be Katie’s father.”
“You will someday sit on that throne, and will he have any influence over you?”