I cannot love you
The King scoffed, his lips curving into a wry, astonished smile as his piercing gaze swept over her. Who could have foreseen that the rumored timid Duchess, wife of the Duke, would possess the audacity to propose marriage to him?
He had often wondered what manner of woman Quinn's mate might be, and to his surprise, she stood in stark contrast to the meek figure he had imagined. If truth be told, he was impressed, this encounter served as a sharp reminder of the disadvantage of judging a book by its cover. Her boldness was nothing short of remarkable.
Turning on his heel, the King strode purposefully toward the grand chair at the center of the room, his voice cold as he asked, "And why, pray, should I aid you in this venture?"
"You shall, Your Majesty," she replied with unwavering confidence, prompting him to halt mid-stride and cast a sharp glance back at her.
"Bold, are we?" He remarked with a smirk, shaking his head as he finally took his seat.