Damn. I’m very late. Not that relaxing with Gil wasn’t totally worth it, but women of the court are expected to look a certain way when meeting their betrothed, and “I just let another man tug out all my braids while he pounded me into a mattress, smearing all my makeup into my drool” isn’t exactly that look. Good Aed, Gil was on one today. I am more than a little disappointed we didn’t get to go for round two, but when your fiance shows up an entire hour earlier than planned, that kills the mood faster than thinking about how I was conceived.

I take a deep breath as I adjust my black curls one last time and smooth down my flowing skirt. It’s showtime. I nod to the attendants standing in front of the intricately engraved oak doors leading into my father’s throne room. They obediently push the doors inward as a herald announces my arrival with all the customary titles and embarrassing number of middle names.

My father rises as I enter, his arms spread wide and a loving smile on his face. “Aw, Saoirse, my dear,” he says loudly as I approach with measured calmness. “There you are.”

Beyond our attendants, very few people are actually present for my first meeting with my future husband. My father was never one for ceremony, and I truly love that about him, even if I don’t mind a bit more formality on occasion. Today, however, I am grateful that no one extra is here to witness me probably make a complete ass of myself. To my father’s right is his advisor, the Baroness of Onora, Aurnia, while Gilroy stands to his left, next to my mother’s empty throne, which I now usually occupy.

Standing before the King of Douburg are two foreign men, one plump and soft, the other tall and sharp. The younger one I really wouldn’t mind seeing Gilroy top while I suck him off, but alas, I think he is probably my future brother-in-law, Prince Alec. The latter man, who looks like an artic wolf in human form, I, unfortunately, recognize from his portraits as the Duke of Crissomid, my soon-to-be husband. He is even bigger than his older brother and is he glaring at me?

“My King, I apologize for my tardiness.” I very lowly curtsey to my father before turning my attention to Prince Fionn. “Your Grace,” I say as sweetly as I can muster as I extend my hand to him.

He obediently accepts my hand, kissing my knuckles as he bows. “Crown Princess,” he says in a deep, rough voice. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance finally.”

I get the distinct impression from his clipped short tone that it is anything but a pleasure to meet me. “The pleasure, I assure you, is all mine, My Prince,” I lie back.

I smile in that charming way I know at least women love. I’m not so sure about men, as I make a habit of avoiding flirting with them at all costs these days. However, this particular man I need to appease for the time being, at least until we can have a proper discussion about boundaries and well… his views on extramarital affairs.

“And Prince Alec.” I turn my attention to the cute boy standing behind him. “It is a pleasure to greet you as well. Thank you so much for making the long journey to celebrate this momentous event with us.”

The younger prince bows to me, an easy smile on his face. “No need to thank me. I wouldn’t miss my favorite big brother’s wedding for the world!” His eyes light up as he speaks and he gets this excited glow in his cheeks. He really is cute. It’s a shame I was going to be related to him soon. Even if I would never act on my fantasies, I should probably stop having dirty thoughts about him.

My eyes flick to Gilroy, who is standing at attention, unmoving. When our eyes lock, he raises a single eyebrow at me, and I can tell he is having the same thoughts I am. Maybe a little roleplay later tonight will get this itch out of my system.

Putting those thoughts aside for the present, I turn my attention back to Prince Alec. “Favorite brother, eh? With such high praise from such an earnest face, I wonder what sort of man my future husband might be.”

“Perhaps,” my father interjects, “You young lovebirds would like some time alone to get to know each other. You could take a turn in the garden together,” he suggests.

“I couldn’t take the duke away from you,” I try to protest, but my father simply waves off his hand.

“The Duke and I have already conversed quite a bit before your arrival, my dear,” my father insists, “and I am sure the young prince is tired from the long journey and wishes to rest. It is such a lovely day. Go out and enjoy the sunshine together.”

“I would very much like to discuss a few matters with you in private, Your Highness,” the duke says with authoritative determination. I quirk my eyebrow at that. What could he possibly have to say to me in private?

Making up my mind to hear him out, I curtsey to my father in submission. “As you wish, My King.”

He beams at me, apparently pleased by the prospect of me bonding with my forced fiance, before turning his attention to a servant. “Call for Her Highness’ handmaid to chaperone,” he orders.

“No need,” I quickly interject before the servant can complete the task. “Gilroy can accompany us.” It will be easier if Gil overhears whatever this prince has to say to me, rather than me trying to repeat it to him later. I want him there to form an unbiased opinion of whatever is said and memorize the entire conversation for future analysis.

“Very well,” my father easily agrees, much to my relief. As the three of us exit the throne room together, I formulate my plan of attack. I need to make it abundantly clear to Prince Fionn that I have no intention of being a real wife and would like to avoid his company as much as humanly possible. There is only one man I love and I won’t let a petty little thing like marriage stand in the way of my happiness.