The Best-Laid Plans

Chapter 1: …of Mice-2

The news went over about as well as Efren had expected. Queen Giselle maintained her composure, but the glint in her eyes sharpened to the point that Efren wouldn’t have been surprised to see sparks flying out of them.

She tightened her jaw as she bit out her words. “I wouldn’t have considered they’d go to such lengths, but clearly I was wrong.”

“I suppose it’s possible,” Efren said, “that an individual who’s been particularly negatively impacted might have acted on his own.”

Queen Giselle sniffed. It was as close as she was likely to get to something so indelicate as a snort, but it carried the same intent. “Likely that will be their claim if or when confronted. I don’t believe it, though, any more than you do. They’ll offer up some poor man as a sacrifice, and sadly, I may have to accept that in the name of peace.”

Efren nodded, but didn’t reply. She was probably right, and he didn’t relish the thought of becoming entrenched in another war, either. The good thing was, once King Deverick of Gagel became aware that his stratagem had gone disastrously awry, and that Efren and Queen Giselle knew of his guilt, he might know better than to try again. At least not while memories were fresh. But until he learned of their knowledge, he might try to put an alternate scheme into play.

“I’d like to add to your security force for your journey home,” Queen Giselle said. “We’re never more vulnerable than when we’re traveling. If they’re going to make another attempt, that’ll be when.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Efren inclined his head. “I appreciate and accept your generous offer.”

The queen gazed at her lone son. “Marcelo is a sweet and gentle young man.” She sighed, then returned her regard to Efren. “And he’s clearly besotted with you now. Keep him safe, and see that you continue to merit his regard.”

She gave Efren no chance to reply, instead striding away to give orders to a guard, apparently instigating the promised arrangement. Efren sought out Denis so his security captain could prepare for the additional men.

* * * *

By the time the changes to their travel plans were sorted, the rest of Marcelo’s family had descended to see them off. Other than to take aside her eldest daughter, her heir, for a short discussion, Queen Giselle held off informing the rest of her family of what she’d learned regarding Princess Marcela’s death.

Marcelo’s next younger sister, Kemble—the one everyone from Sheburat had expected Efren to choose as his alternate—seemed a little too cheerful with her perky grin and easy chatter with one of her younger sisters this morning for Efren’s ego. She’d probably dreaded the expectation she’d have to marry Efren with the same strength he had shrunk from the thought of marrying any of Marcelo’s sisters.

Nonetheless, Queen Giselle, Prince Consort Elmer, and Marcelo’s six surviving sisters were sincere kindness personified as they wished their son and brother happiness in his new life. Efren’s heart thawed as the queen unbent enough to actually hug her son. But that internal warmth was short-lived. Icy hands squeezed his core as a glimpse of Gideon standing by the door reminded him of the prospective danger awaiting them on their passage home.

When Marcelo finally turned to Efren, the earlier unbridled enthusiasm for his new life had dimmed from his eyes. Perhaps due to a touch of impending homesickness after that gauntlet of familial good-wishes, or maybe because he was clever enough to understand the risks of their upcoming journey. He was also bright enough to have developed second thoughts—worries—now that his initial enchantment with his new husband was viewed in the light of day and all the realities of life that came with it.

That last possibility was the one Efren could best allay. Witnesses be damned, Efren lifted one of Marcelo’s slender hands to his lips, then cupped the younger man’s jaw to raise that delicately rounded, but surprisingly strong chin. Marcelo’s eyes widened when Efren lightly kissed him in front of everyone, but the magical captivating sparkle from the previous night relit.

Some of the tension in Efren’s shoulders relaxed. He nodded to Queen Giselle, then kept Marcelo’s hand in his when they spun to join the Zioneven entourage.