The ornate and well-crafted tea table was revealed as the maid swiped the curtains open as I was led to the Chavalleve manor’s balcony. 

The servant who led me stood still from behind, and the maid bowed to acknowledge my presence as she spoke, “Greetings, Your Highness. May infinite glory be upon you and the Ruivenfiere Empire,” she began, and continued. “Lady Kathrynne would follow in a minute. Is there anything I can do for you, Your Highness?”

Kathrynne. It’s been years since I last saw her, and I’m unsure if I should look forward to our meeting or not. The past eight years felt like centuries ago. Is my old friend still a friend, or a stranger? It's been almost a decade, and things might be different by now. 

Though her family attends the major events in the imperial palace, for some reason, she wouldn’t come, and I want to know the reason behind it.

“Your Highness?” The maid's voice abruptly snapped me out of my deep contemplation, bringing me back to the present moment. She spoke quietly and her voice was hesitant.

“You can now leave,” the maid left the balcony as ordered and I sat down on the nearest chair. But another person came into the scene and she smiled at the maid, saying,

"Please do bring some tea for His Highness and me," her voice was gentle to the maid and the maid smiled back before leaving as if pleased to hear her master's request. She walked forward, her eyes avoiding mine, and curtsied. When our eyes finally met, she wore a calm facial expression, yet unreadable.

“It’s been a while since we met, Kathrynne,” I said, not giving hints of formality – for that’s how we used to do things when we’re alone just like now. “It’s been eight years.”

She forced herself to smile, making me feel uncomfortable. Is she intimidated by me?

Something doesn’t seem right. The normal Kathrynne I know would approach me with eagerness, and not in an awkward manner.

“Have a seat,” I requested, and she did as I told. She put her gloved hands together on her lap, and this is the nervous tic of the Kathrynne I knew. She's still avoiding my eyes, and I'm beginning to get worried about why she'll act like this.

A person wouldn't be this nervous around their friend. If so, it might be that she did something that will ruin her reputation?

“Tell me what’s bothering you. Just be honest with me, like you used to. Don't be afraid, it's still me." I assured her, and she finally raised her head to face me.

“I’m sorry, I had rough days recently, but don’t worry about that. I’m good now, but somehow … adjusting. Let’s not talk about it.”

“If you say so. As you’ve heard, I’m here to discuss one thing. Among the candidates to be the crown princess, you …” I paused, starting to feel the weight of my next words.

“Basically, someone who’ll be your wife and the next empress.” She continued. Kathrynne gently gave me a warm smile, as if she was happy about it. “And you’re here to say that you’re choosing me among my sisters, right?”

Just as how I’m expecting her to say it. Kathrynne is a straightforward woman who can say the things that I can’t say. It’s strange that somehow, her aura changed quickly – from being shy, to being warm and confident.

“That’s right. We’re friends when we were younger, so if I were to marry someone, it should be someone I’ll get along with. Someone I already know. The empress told me to start making arrangements to prepare for our engagement. She wants me to introduce you as my betrothed. The relationship between House Chavalleve and Ruivenfiere should be firm as well.” I explained, but deep down, I’m against everything.

I can’t hide the fact that I’m still the empress’ pet.

“I can tell you’re not happy about it,” she commented, and my eyes widened as I got caught off-guard. I’ve been focusing on wars, searching for Thyra Edevane, and other imperial matters – and falling for someone became a needless luxury for me.

After Adrienne called off our engagement, I found myself with little time to spare for meeting women who was raised to become empresses.

The public humiliation resulting from the broken engagement was undoubtedly a difficult experience for both of us, especially for Adrienne.

I never had eyes for her, but what made me feel worse was not losing a fiancée, but a friend who betrayed me as he had a secret relationship with her.

I still hope that one day, I can forgive both of them – Dante and Adrienne.

A moment of silence followed, and the maid entered the balcony, poured our cups with tea, and I took a sip of it the moment the maid left us alone.

"The tea smells lovely, refreshing, and subtle with a hint of bitterness,” I commented, and a faint smile touched the corners of her lips. I put down the cup on the saucer and began taking the conversation seriously. But long before I say a word, she opened something up.

“We can’t force ourselves to love each other. This is a marriage of convenience and everyone knows that. Everyone sees it as a part of political matters to make the empire shine at its brightest as everyone will see the crown prince getting closer to the throne. When we were younger, you told me that if you’re going to be married one day, you want it to be a real one. That it won’t be because of politics, but a marriage founded with love.” Kathrynne reminded me, and I looked away after being reminded of my childish words many years ago.

“The foolish tradition of this empire – an emperor from the Ruivenfiere family being strictly married to a red diamond user from House Chavalleve or House Ashleigh is stressful to preserve the race of the most powerful Izavenes. It’s just … hard. At least for me who’s not into anyone at all. Marriage is the last thing on my mind.” I admitted, but I didn't look back at Kathrynne to see her reaction.

“You do know that you’re saying those words to someone who admitted her feelings to you many years back, didn’t you? It seems like you’ve been feigning ignorance, Your Highness.

Don’t take it as an offense but, this is just so you from years ago,” her words felt like a cold bucket of water poured on my head that followed by a slap on the face. She smiled bitterly, holding her cup of tea tighter than usual. If those gloves are removed from her hands, her pain would make her break the teacup, or burn the table.

“I completely forgot about that, I’m sorry,” I covered half of my face and leaned my elbow on my thigh, hiding my face in humiliation. “I guess I was preoccupied with many things, making me forget about that day. I hope you’ll forgive me for being insensitive. I tend to speak my mind without me noticing,” which is true. It’s a bad habit that I should fix.

“It doesn't matter, Your Highness. It's better, to be honest. I'm glad that I'll be marrying an honest man. I prefer that than someone who sugarcoats things just to make the other party better." She sighed. “I’d like to request something. I don’t want an engagement party anymore. I’d prefer it if there will only be one celebration – the wedding for everyone to witness.”

Without hesitation, I nodded in agreement, expressing my willingness to comply with her wishes. Deep down, I couldn't help but acknowledge the selfish nature of my proposal. Kathrynne deserved to be with someone who would genuinely love and cherish her, yet I found myself agreeing to marry her simply to fulfill a role.

This realization weighed heavily on my conscience, as it seemed as though I would be using her for my own benefit. I couldn't shake the guilt that accompanied the thought of potentially subjecting her to a lifetime of regret, despite the privileged position she held, which many would consider enviable.

I know how much she’s fond of luxurious things and praises even before. On the contrary, it’s something that I don’t like about her, but something I want to accept, however disappointing it is.

“You’re the crown prince. Everyone in this empire is your subject. Nobody can refuse or question your words because your words are considered commands. Once you become emperor, you can change the laws if you wish. That way, we’ll be the last emperor and empress who will get married because of political matters alone.”

Her sigh echoed with a mix of resignation and longing, fueling my guilt and compelling me to make amends. If I couldn't marry someone I loved, I should show my future wife the respect she deserves and learn to care for her unconditionally.

While my thoughts may have sounded noble, deep within my heart, I couldn't shake the realization that I was likely to fail in fulfilling the pledge I had made.