Chapter 101: Fancy men
"What?" Bewildered, he turned to face her, his gaze fixed upon her in disbelief.
"I am in accord with the twelve elders. I shall go to war," she repeated, lifting her head to meet his gaze, her resolve unshaken. If she were to be truthful, she wanted to scream and refuse the offer. But a Queen, no, a Luna could not afford to be weak. If she sought to secure her standing, perhaps proving the rumors false upon the battlefield was the only way.
Without a word, Hezekiah strode toward Belle, seizing her wrist, intent on leading her away when Quinn’s hand suddenly fell upon his own, halting him in place.
"Release me at once!" Hezekiah commanded, his voice sharp with anger. Yet Quinn remained unfazed, a smirk gracing his lips as he drawled, "Shall we allow the rumors to linger, or shall we grant her the chance to earn her respect?"
Hezekiah’s free hand clenched at Quinn’s words, frustration surging within him. He despised how right the man was and worse, that he was powerless to correct him. He had always believed himself to be in command, yet time and again, he found himself at the mercy of others. What kind of king was he, if even his ministers wielded greater influence? The very thought sickened him.
"He is right. You must let me go, I must do this myself," Belle urged, placing a gentle hand upon his wrist, forcing a smile to reassure him. Yet it did little to soothe the storm within him. His expression was taut with pain, his rage simmering beneath the surface.
Lowering his head, Hezekiah closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply before relinquishing his hold on her. Then, turning to face the twelve elders, he declared, "Lady Belle shall go to war, but I have a condition."
A murmur passed through the gathered elders as they exchanged wary glances.
"A condition?" The elder woman from before inquired. "Pray, tell us what it is, Your Majesty."