Alexander’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest when Amelia burst into the room.
“My goodness, Amelia,” he breathed, leaning back against the chaise with a hand draped across his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
Both hands on her hips, she hurled her signature scowl of disapproval at him. When she spotted Smyth expertly dressing his wound in fresh bandages, she looked even more infuriated. “Just what did you get yourself into this time?” she snapped, rushing to the physician’s side to help despite her displeasure with her brother.
“Nothing you need to worry yourself over,” he gritted out, the sting of his lesion still sore and tender. “Though I would appreciate your elbows staying far away from my body.”
“How was I to know you’d be daft enough to attend the Banquet when you’re injured like this?” she argued, looking slightly remorseful as she held the roll of gauze for Smyth.
Wanting to erase the guilt in her eyes, Alexander mussed her hair affectionately. “I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”
She evaded his touch with a glare. “You are not handling it. Smyth is.”
Clearing his throat, Smyth finished his services and offered a civil smile. “Everything is back in order, Your Highness. But, I beg you to be more careful from now on. It is still very susceptible to infection.”
“Thank you, Smyth,” he nodded. “Oh, it slipped my mind to ask, but how did this morning go?”
“The Princess allowed me to treat her burns, and I made sure her hands were properly tended.”
Burns. Her hands were burned? Alexander thought grimly. “Thank you for your services again, Smyth. I will keep in mind not to overwork you so much.”
As discreet and agreeable as ever, Smyth bowed and quietly dismissed himself. Sighing internally, he prepared for the scolding that was sure to come from his little sister.
“The Princess? Are you talking about Helene?” Amelia asked in genuine concern.
He was surprised she wasn’t chiding him first. “It’s not for me to divulge. Did you leave her to come find me?” he asked, disliking the idea of her standing out there alone. Especially not with all those nobles out for blood. He had been prepared for it and recalled telling the Princess he wouldn’t mind all the talk. But with the way they were belittling and slandering her virtue and character, he regretted his actions. He shouldn’t have been so thoughtless.
“I left her with her sister, Princess Morgan. I assumed she’d feel comfortable enough with family while I came to check on you.”
He frowned, Edward’s remarks about her family pricking his mind. He felt protective of her for some reason and found himself eager to return to her.
“Where’s Edward? And what was with the commotion with Lord Cedric?” Amelia continued.
At that moment, Edward clicked open the door, his eyes widening when he spotted the Princess crouched down by the chaise.
Edward’s cheeks flushed when Amelia glowered at him as well. “Someone better give me some answers right now.”
Briskly dressing himself in the new suit Edward brought in, Alexander left them to their bickering and departed to go find his Princess.
Surrounded by a man and woman with similar attributes to Princess Helene and Lady Erika, Alexander found her turned away from him by the fountains. At the glimpse of Lady Erika’s curled lips, unease trickled into his gut.
As he neared, the tense atmosphere evaporated into one of insincere civility. He placed a customary hand on his betrothed’s waist. “What did I miss?”
“Hello, Your Highness,” Lady Erika greeted in a breathy tone.
Beside him, he felt Helene tense. Ignoring Lady Erika’s address, he looked down at Princess Helene, who held an impassive expression.
“Your Highness, we have yet to introduce ourselves. I am Helene’s older brother, Ian, and this is Princess Morgan,” the man spoke up.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” he replied politely, still wary of the emptiness in Helene’s eyes. “If you don’t mind, I would like a word with my betrothed.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Princess Morgan said in an overly sweet tone.
As soon as they were left alone, he turned to Helene. “Are you alright, Princess? Something seems to trouble you.”
Lifting her glass to her lips, she slowly sipped. “I’m perfectly fine, Your Highness.”
He didn’t like the hollow tone of her voice. “Did they say something to you?”
Helene turned to him, her eyes guarded. “You don’t need to concern yourself with what is being said, Your Highness. I am not so easily shattered.”
“I know you’re more than capable of holding your own,” he carefully replied. “But, we are to be wed soon. I would like to carry those burdens with you. It was my idea to hide away. You shouldn’t be the one to bear the charge.”
“I am a woman, Your Highness. There are certain standards even you cannot prevent. Your thoughtfulness is appreciated, but I suggest we simply focus on appeasing the people here to see us now. We owe them that much after our behavior at the Ball.”
“We owe them nothing,” he muttered darkly, pulling her into him with his hold on her waist. From the way she was so clearly drawing a wall between them, he wanted to climb over it, and take that vacant way she was looking at him off her frustratingly beautiful face.
Placing a hand on his chest, she stepped away with narrowed eyes. “This is not helping.”
She was right. He didn’t know why he felt so strongly about wanting her to trust him. To let him in.
“Emperor Henry and Empress Camille de Tristaine,” a voice announced.
With regret, he walked back, extending a hand for her to take. Although she hesitated at first, she placed her gloved fingers in his palm. As he walked her towards her father and mother to properly introduce his betrothed, he heard her murmur quietly, “Thank you for sending Smyth.”
“It was my pleasure, Princess,” he replied, wanting to squeeze her hands in affirmation, but remembering to be gentle on account of her wounds.
He was intent on believing that there was hope yet for their union. Although they hadn’t chosen each other, he didn’t want to completely condemn their marriage from the start. In fact, he could see them being happy enough if they tried.
Just don’t shut me out. Give us a chance.
“A toast,” Emperor Henry’s voice sounded. “To Princess Helene and her union with our son.”
The crowd raised their glasses as Helene faced the Emperor and his Empress. They looked kind and welcoming, but she was wary about their reaction to her little stunt with the Prince yesterday. The more that time passed, the more she rued her decision for agreeing to escape.
“I thank Your Majesties for this opportunity to present myself once again, and I humbly ask for your forgiveness on my behavior at the Ball. It was heedless of me to forgo my duties,” she bowed her head in deference.
The Emperor chuckled in good nature. “Not at all, Princess Helene. Alexander explained to us it was on his insistence that you couldn’t deny.”
“We are simply glad to get to know you now,” Empress Camille added, taking her hand.
Helene blinked in surprise. Not only were they gracious, it seemed as if Alexander had ensured to take the blame. “Thank you for your kindness,” she smiled.
With Alexander pasted to her side, her interactions turned out to be far more pleasant than before. Although he still looked a bit pale and worn, he was as charming as ever, easily conversing with his parents, naturally including her in his talks, politely introducing himself to her own father and the Queen, and proceeding to acquaint her with the Lords he considered as close friends.
By the end, all gossip of their scandalous rendezvous was halted, especially with the warning gaze of the Prince that flashed whenever questions or allusions were made to their time together last night.
Painting a new image of two young strangers wishing to strengthen their bond in a private, yet innocent, matter, he was a natural when it came to appealing to the desires of the elite. Whether it was love, lust, scandal, or truth, all they wanted was a story, and the Prince proved to be an expert story-weaver.
As the day grew longer and she obediently carried out her obligations, her resolve grew clearer. Glancing at her betrothed, who easily chuckled at the dull account of an elderly Duchess, she knew he wasn’t a bad man. Like Lord Edward had once told her, he was a good man. She could comfortably believe it — despite whatever tasteless things she had unwillingly heard from Morgan and the Lady Erika, or the fact that it was always likely the Prince was a popular man who shouldn’t have to be tied down by a forced arrangement.
But, Helene also had her pride, and she refused to be seen as another one of his conquests or the poor wife who would have to handle her husband’s….”adventures.” So, her defenses remained, and the end seemed clear.
She would not marry Prince Alexander.
That had always been the plan. Come to Theolos. Find a cure. Leave Helene behind, and find her mother again as Ani.
From the beginning, she had never planned to go through with the marriage. That had never, and would never, change.
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