Melody Anne - Scorched

Rachel looked at Adriane across the table and didn’t know what to say. Yes, Corythia was beautiful, and she was enjoying the small café he’d brought her to, their table sitting on an open deck overlooking the ocean. But this wasn’t her home, and it never would be.

Add to that the fact that she was still in shock after learning a few days ago that she was going to have not one but two babies, and in less than six months — she couldn’t seem to process anything at the moment. Even Adriane’s words were taking longer to filter through her head.

Still strongly against the idea of marrying a man for the sake of children, she was confused beyond that point. Should she try to get to know Adriane? They were both going to be parents whether they were ready or not.

If she left Corythia now, she would know virtually nothing about him. Yes, he’d been wrong in taking her from her home, but he hadn’t done so out of malice; he’d acted out of loyalty to the child — or children — she carried in her womb.

If he’d been monstrous toward her, then she’d have her answer. But he hadn’t been. He’d pushed her, and tried demanding marriage and talking her into having sex again, but he hadn’t actually forced her to do anything besides stay in his castle.

It was time to get to know him. That wouldn’t happen if she were focused only on escape.

“I’m not going to marry you, Adriane, but I have decided to spend one month with you — not in a sexual way,” she hastened to add when he began to smile. “I believe it’s important for me to know the father of my children. When the time comes, I will be leaving, though, either with your blessing or under fire from your guards. I will not be held against my will any longer.”

Rachel didn’t take her eyes from Adriane; she wanted to watch his reaction. She was hoping she would be able to trust him at some point. There was no way she’d allow her children to spend time with him if she feared she wouldn’t get them back.

“I can agree to a month,” he said, and from the expression on his face, she had no idea whether he was speaking the truth or not.

Only time would tell.

“So you will stop with all this insistence on marriage?” she asked, needing his promise.

Adriane grimaced, but he didn’t turn away from her.

“I will stop speaking of it,” he said.

That wasn’t a good enough answer.

“Look, Adriane, on the jet you said you would back off on the marriage thing, but you haven’t honored that promise. If you want me to trust you, then you have to give me a reason to do so. You have to keep your word.”

She looked him dead in the eyes as she spoke, letting him know she was serious and wasn’t going to back down.

After a long pause, he nodded. It wasn’t agreement, but it was the best he was going to give her right now. Because she didn’t want to fight, she decided to let this one thing go. The next time he brought the subject of marriage up, she’d light into him.

She enjoyed their meal, and they spoke about safe topics through the main course. For the first time since the two of them had met again after Florida, they’d agreed to a cease-fire, and Rachel felt a smidgeon of hope that the two of them could become friends.

“Did you always know you were going to be king?” she asked as their dessert was placed before them, an elaborate chocolate torte.

“No. My older brother was supposed to take the reins of the kingdom, but he left when we were teenagers. My father was heartbroken. There was never any question that I would step up, though it wasn’t something I wanted.”

“What if you had said no?”

Adriane looked at her with surprise, as if such a concept was completely foreign to him. “That was never going to happen.”

He didn’t elaborate.

“Would the country fall apart? What happens if no one wants to be king?” It was something she’d never really thought about before.

What if Adriane had no more children and the babies she carried didn’t want to ascend to the throne?

“Corythia has always been ruled by the direct descendants of my family line. Each father has passed the crown to the eldest son, unless something happened to that child; then it went down to the next-eldest son. If there is a male heir, which there always has been, then the oldest living son takes the crown. If there were nothing but female heirs, the crown would be passed to the next line of male heirs, such as an uncle or the closest in line of the male cousins. That has never happened here. There has always been a male heir.”

“That’s sexist,” Rachel said.

“There’s a reason behind this, Rachel. The king is supposed to be able to lead his troops into battle,” he said, as if that were a perfectly acceptable reason.

“A woman could just as easily lead the troops,” Rachel interjected.

Adriane sighed as if speaking to a small child, and he looked at her indulgently. “The women are to be protected,” he said, then with a glint in his eye, added, “so that they can tend the home front, prepare the meals and serve their husbands.”

Rachel looked at him and couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not. The gleam in his eye seemed to say he was trying to rile her, but she was worried.

“My children will not be raised thinking that women are the weaker sex, Adriane. I think men should cherish and protect their women, love them, but also give them respect. The way you are talking are the ways of our ancestors. Women can now protect their husbands, too. Today, there isn’t anything a man can do that a woman can’t.”

“I disagree. There are many tasks that are more suited to a man than a woman. But don’t fret, there are also many tasks that are more suited to a woman than a man,” he said, obviously trying to rile her now.

“Do I dare ask which tasks are suited to which sex?”

“Well, men are the hunters, the ones to bring home the food and keep the home safe. Women keep the home fires burning, so to speak, having the home ready for her warrior when he returns home with provisions.”

Rachel’s mouth dropped open as she looked at this modern king, wearing his hand-tailored black Armani suit and silk tie. Had he really just said that?

“Did we just lose two hundred years? Am I missing something?” she finally asked.

“I am pushing you a bit, Rachel. I’m sorry, I can’t help myself. The fire that lights in your eyes is too irresistible. However, I don’t like all this modernization the world is so into these days.”

“You don’t like phones?” she asked with open sarcasm, not even close to forgiving him.

“That’s not what I’m speaking of. I don’t like the fact that women are now sent off to war, only to return in a flag-draped casket. I think it’s wrong that a man so easily walks away from his children to leave the woman to struggle, tearing up her hands while she tries to earn the barest pittance so her young ones won’t starve. It is wrong that the men of today don’t take care of their families. That is our duty, our responsibility. What is so wrong with believing that a woman should be looked after?”

His words were wrong, in thinking women lesser than men, but she could see that his heart was in the right place. He thought it a man’s responsibility to take care of his woman. She couldn’t fault him for that — she even respected him a little for it. However, he would have to learn that women could do whatever it took to survive. And not only that, they could make a great life for themselves without the aid of a man if they so chose.

“I don’t see that we are going to come to an agreement on this subject. I was taught from a young age that I could do anything I wanted. Yes, there are tasks more suited to the male or female sex, but not what you’re speaking of. There were many things I tried just because I had watched my brother or sister try them first and I wanted to be just like both of them. I went through a phase where I refused to wear a dress because it slowed me down. I have slid into home base in the rain, covering myself from head to foot in mud, I have pitched my own tent, and I’ve even taken a class to learn how to change a tire and handle basic auto mechanics. Women are capable, Adriane. It’s their choice which direction they want to take their lives in.”

“You do amaze me, Rachel. I know your family, know how you grew up. You are not what I would expect you to be,” he said as he reached across the table and took her hand, lifting it to his mouth and kissing her knuckles before laying their entwined fingers down on the table.

Before Rachel could respond, there was a racket inside the restaurant, and suddenly the doors that separated them from the rest of the diners flew open and slammed against the wall. The two guards on duty while they were out had their guns drawn; they spoke in rapid French, yelling at the intruder to stand down.

Adriane jumped from his seat, immediately thrusting Rachel behind his back as he yelled to the waiter, who ran over and grabbed hold of Rachel, pulling her away from the scene, toward what she assumed was an emergency exit.

“I’m getting my sister right now!”

Rachel froze at the sound of Rafe’s voice, nearly tripping as the waiter continued tugging on her.

“Rafe?” Rachel called, shocked to see her brother burst through the doors in a rage.

His eyes connected with her, and he rushed forward.

“Fire!” one of the guards cried.

“No!” Rachel screamed as she struggled furiously to get free of the waiter. “Don’t touch my brother!”

Before the guard was able to shoot, Adriane called out an order and his men turned toward him in confusion. The waiter who held Rachel lost his grip in his surprise. She couldn’t tell what Adriane had said, but it was enough that it allowed Rafe to get onto the deck and rush forward.