The Plan Commences Read online Kristen Ashley (The Rising #2)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Romance, Witches Tags Authors: Series: The Rising Series by Kristen Ashley
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Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
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“And we’ve learned you’ve hired twelve new seamstresses,” he remarked.

She responded to that.

“I have. The two royal seamstresses we have on staff could hardly finish a new wedding gown on time, not to mention what I am to wear, which they hadn’t even started, and build a trousseau fitting Lady Farah when she is princess.”

“Lady Farah?” he asked in shock.

“That is what I said,” she replied.

“When did that whore become a lady?”

Even if the feel was wafting from her, Mercy herself slightly shivered at the coldness she was exuding toward him.

She did not think about the fact she’d had these same thoughts about her soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

She did not, for not only had she decided to change her way of thinking, it was not to be borne he would make such a remark, to her or anyone (but it must be said, mostly to her).

“You are speaking of my son’s betrothed, the woman who, in a very short period of time, will be crowned princess of this very realm and your future queen,” she reminded him coldly.

“Of course,” he murmured, and even this foolish toad knew he’d stepped over the line with that, therefore he swiftly changed the subject. “You’ve also ordered a trousseau?”

She stared at him like he was daft. “Farah will be traveling almost immediately with True to Airen for Prince Cassius and Princess Elena’s nuptials. She can hardly go across an autumn Wodell into the brisk sea winds of Sky Bay wearing Firenz sheers. And she shouldn’t for she’ll be the Princess of Wodell.”

He shook his head.

“We simply don’t have the money for that,” he retorted.

“I’m sorry, did you not just send the heralds with the collectors to spread the word another coin was expected from our citizenry, due immediately, for their levies to the crown?” she queried.

“That is to strengthen your husband’s coffers, which you know are running frightfully low, not for overages in costs of the wedding.”

It was not for that and it was an insult he was pretending she didn’t know it.

“That’s interesting,” she noted. “For I’ve read the proclamation with my own eyes and the king seemed to make a point of mentioning his son’s upcoming ceremony in the announcement of the latest tax increase.”

At that, Carrington was silent.

Mercy was not.

“It would seem to me the peoples of this realm will have a very clear impression the gold coin they must offer the collector was for that precise thing. At least, it seemed clear to me when I read the proclamation.”

Carrington’s mouth grew tight and he continued not to speak.

“So,” Mercy sniffed, “obviously, after meeting my son’s intended, I realized the dress I ordered to be made would not suit her. Considering her station and the historical event that’s about to occur, she obviously must have a dress that suits her, and she will. She’ll also have a wardrobe that suits a Dellish princess for a royal journey. And gold coins will be falling into our chests very shortly. In fact, I saw the guards bringing those already collected in the Thicket just this afternoon. So many of them, it would cover ten new wedding gowns and a wardrobe that would last years. Thus, I’m afraid there really isn’t much to discuss. Therefore, if you don’t mind, I’ll continue to be on my way.”

She began to make a turn when Carrington bit, “Mercy.”

Very slowly, she again gave her gaze to the horrible man.

“Mercy?” she asked quietly.

“We’ve known each other for over two decades,” he spat.

“And in that time, I have not given you leave to address me as such.”

“You should,” he returned.

“I believe it’s my decision whether I should or should not.”

He gave up on that and went on to something less enjoyable to discuss.

“You seem to view me as the enemy when I further detain you to share helpful advice. That being you are choosing the wrong side.”

“Side in what?” she asked, feigning ignorance.

“You know in what,” he returned.

“Carrington, if you wish to natter in riddles, really, can we do it sometime after all this wedding brouhaha is over and I can put my feet up by a fire and perhaps enjoy unraveling them?”

“This…” he hesitated as if searching for a word, “estrangement between you and the king will not go well for you. You may be queen, and my last wish would be to cause the least offense, but I feel it is in your best interests to share you are no longer young and not the renowned beauty you once were.”

She thought it impossible for him to get more obnoxious.

She had been wrong.

“As you say, I am queen, but I am also mother to the heir to the throne.”

“If you do not have the favor of the king—”

Mercy interrupted him.

“It is known wide Wilmer is prone to vacillating, it will shock no one I fall out of his favor for a time. Indeed, they’re probably surprised that hasn’t already happened a dozen times over throughout our marriage. Though I cannot imagine, for the Dellish who prize the faithfulness of a devoted spouse, should his eye wander, that will be well taken by the people. If, perchance, something like that were to happen, and then it was to get out.”


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