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Every bone and nerve in Gjeelea’s body told her to cry out ‘Yes! I have a problem with it! I do not want to marry you at all! Not now, not ever!’ Yet still the princess held her tongue for a moment, considering her words carefully. Besides the fact that she did not want to marry Korak to begin with, she wondered if she actually had any issues with marriage in the next month.
There are some things I need to straighten out with him…Gjeelea thought, looking at her future husband and seeing past his handsome exterior to his lying, deceiving inner motives. It might be too bold to come outright, and tell him that I know he only wishes to marry so he could be king. I hope he does not think I am stupid enough not to realize what he really wants. Gjeelea wondered if Korak fully understood that just marrying her did not mean he would become king. His atrocious attitude turned off so many people from liking him at all, and the princess sought to remedy that – for she knew that if she and Korak were not presentable to the public and her family then neither of them would rule.
“Might I speak with you in private?” Gjeelea asked of her betrothed. Korak looked down at his feet for just a moment, and then fidgeted like debating over the choices. “I assure you it is very important and has to do with our future – the future after our marriage.”
After another indecisive pause Korak nodded his agreement. With a sly smile Gjeelea took his big hand and led him away from their former spot in the middle of the hall. She dragged Korak back to her quarters, where she bade the servants to leave and give them privacy. Korak sat on one of the low couches, leaning back on the embroidered cushions and waiting for Gjeelea to speak. In his eyes Gjeelea could almost hear his thoughts screaming something to the extent of, this better be worth my time, princess.
“Marrying me does not mean that I will be named heir and that you will become King, Korak,” Gjeelea stated simply. She decided to be blunt in her conversation, as blunt and as honest as she could have been with the man she would marry but probably never love in any way. She paused in her speech, for she knew that her words had stated a fact Korak already knew. The princess almost feared to say what she had planned to tell Korak next, afraid that he would come up with a hurtful rebuttal to which she would have to show no hurt reaction. She turned away from Korak and looked out the curtains of her window. “All you want is to become King – for the riches, the title, I assume – all I want is to become queen. If you had not noticed, our marriage is not a popular idea to very many people.”
Gjeelea hated to say that the naming of Faroz’s heir was a popularity contest, but she knew that was what it really came down to. The princess knew that even if Faroz wanted her to be queen, he could not name her queen if it would cause a political and social uproar from the citizens of Pashtia. The same deal went for Siamak – Faroz could not (would not, as far as Gjeelea could tell) name Siamak his heir unless his son had achieved some amount of approval from the people. Turning to Korak, Gjeelea walked up to where he reclined and sighed, wishing things could be different.
“It comes down to who the people like more,” the princess murmured to her betrothed. “Unfortunately, Siamak only has to account for his own actions. My becoming queen depends on both of us.”
There came a long pause between the two. Gjeelea knew she was regurgitating information that Korak might have already contemplated in his own time. What the princess hoped to accomplish was to make the thoughts into reality for Korak. She hoped he would take seriously the words that she said to him.
“Korak, you are a good liar,” Gjeelea finally said outright. “Do you think you could pretend to be happy sometime? Pretend that you want to be king for reasons other than the riches and the lifestyle? We need to show Pashtia that we care – even if you actually do not.”
Another pause. Korak opened his mouth to speak, but he did not and the princess wondered if his words caught in his throat, or if he had something to say but thought better of it. Gjeelea went to the door of her bedroom and opened it, gesturing for Korak to make a gallant exit. He stood, still waiting for an answer about their marriage.
“How does next month sound?” Gjeelea asked silkily, her voice soft and calm – the persuasive voice she seemed to use all to often. “We need to spend more time together – not just for our sake either. We need to show everyone that this is right, that this marriage is good. Next month, or soon into the month after? Does that please you?”
Gjeelea hoped so – she was not in the mood for negotiations.
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