The Heiress Queen (Season Series Prequel)

Chapter 47

Despite Isabelle's best efforts, Lord Callum Winters did not appear to be in any rush to leave. Two days after he'd proposed the marriage alliance to Isabelle, a blizzard roared through Inverloch, blocking the roads and killing any hopes Isabelle had of ridding herself of Callum. He took advantage of their frosty captivity to continue their talks, but Isabelle found herself growing more and more distracted. The invitation locked away in her desk weighed heavily at the back of her mind, with Midwinter so quickly approaching. The roads would barely have time to clear before she'd need to leave.

Finally, exactly a week from the date of the ball, Isabelle's patience wore out.

"As much as I enjoy your company, when are you and Maighread planning on returning to Umberwood?" she asked, slipping the question into their dinner conversation. When Maighread stiffened, looking towards her husband, Isabelle cursed inwardly.

"I do hope you don't think we're taking advantage of your hospitality," Callum said evenly, dabbing his mouth with his napkin. "We aren't returning to Umberwood just yet, as we were planning to leave here for Highcastle. What with the storm and all, we're hoping to arrive in time for the council session."

With nausea roiling in her stomach, Isabelle steered the conversation away from their departure by asking Maighread what she was planning to wear for the Midwinter ball. Lady Winters obligingly picked up the conversation once more, debating her choices and asking for Isabelle's input, since she had so recently spent time in Highcastle. Isabelle smiled politely and discussed court fashion, while inwardly she was screaming.

That night, Marcus found her pacing in her study, the invitation nearly crumpled in her hand.

"I need them to leave," Isabelle said, smoothing out the invitation, only to crumple it again in frustration.

"He isn't going to," Marcus said, shaking his head. "He's not going to take a chance on you running to Highcastle to warn the king and prevent him from recruiting allies at the council meeting."

Isabelle froze in her tracks.

"That's why they've stayed. The snow was a convenient excuse, but you and I both know that it would have taken a much larger storm to truly hinder a northerner's travel," Marcus said, taking a weary seat across the desk from her. Isabelle thumped down into her own chair, both disappointed and disgusted that she hadn't realized what Callum was up to on her own.

"I have to be at the ball, Marcus," she said finally, smoothing out the invitation before handing it to him as an explanation. But the older man didn't take it, a gentle, knowing smile on his face.

"Did you think I hadn't noticed?" he asked, not bothering to look at the name atop the invitation. Swallowing, Isabelle took it back to study Graham's name.

"Lord Winters won't risk missing the council and his wife is not accustomed to hard travel. They'll take at least three days to get to Highcastle. If you time it properly, you can overtake them overnight, while they're stopped at an inn, and still make it in time for the ball."

"It's too close," Isabelle said, biting her lip. "One mistake and we'll be delayed..."

She trailed off, shaking her head. One slipped horseshoe, one more storm, one of Lord Winters' men noticing them passing through...her entire future could be decided by one instance of bad luck.

"Sometimes we must have faith that things will work out as they are intended to," Marcus said. She held his gaze, swallowing.

"You're right," she said finally, steeling herself for what was surely not going to be an easy journey. "Prepare a travel party, quietly. I depart in the afternoon once Winters is gone."