The trek from the drawing room to the dining hall felt like an eternity. Jessamy hung onto D'arcy's arm the entire time, droning on about her time in France and just how "grown up" she is now. On the other hand, Carrick was stuck to me. He kept insisting that a brick wall would make for a more interesting husband than the prince.

"Probably better in bed, too," he snickered, making me this close to jumping out the nearest window. Bronwyn came to my rescue, chiding Carrick's "childish behavior". He finally dropped the subject and turned his focus on harassing D'arcy.

Normally, I'd be intimidated by Bronwyn's super mature and ladylike manner, but right now I'm just thankful she's here. 

"Do you have brothers, Gypsy?" She asked. As I shook my head no she added, "Trust me, it's usually worst than this."

But we did it; we made it to the dining hall alive! A couple of servants open up the massive doors for us as we file in. King Weston and another man rise from their seats.

"There's my boy!" The man beams, pulling D'arcy into a bear hug. I assume this is Glenn. His hair is dark like Bronwyn and Jessamy's, but his beard has a red tint to it.

"It's good to see you, Uncle," he laughs. "I would like you to meet--"

"THE BRIDE TO BE!" He booms, throwing his arms around me. I gasp as he crushes the air out of my lungs.

"It's-- nice-- to meet you-- sir," I manage breathlessly.

"Call me Uncle Glenn," he laughs, finally releasing me. I stagger backwards a few steps, trying to refill my lungs. I'm pretty sure he broke me. I catch a glimpse of my dress. Glenn's hug turned it into a wrinkle-fest. 

I can't help but grin. Olivia would probably pop a blood vessel if she saw me like this. She probably feels a disturbance in the fashion force or something. I wouldn't be surprised if she snuck under the table during dinner with an iron--

"Don't cha think?" Glenn winks.

I snap my head up. Was he talking to me? He looks at me expectantly, a friendly smile on his face. 

"I, uh..." I notice the king watching me from across the table. If I admit I wasn't listening will he think I'm rude? I gulp and glance at D'arcy. He's not any help. My stare bounces between them. I have to say something. I can't just stand here in silence for six hours.

"I, uh... I guess so?"

Carrick erupts into laughter, "She doesn't sound to sure of ya, D'arcy!"

"What? No! I mean, D'arcy's great. You're great," I say, pivoting towards him. "I mean, I'm marrying you, aren't I? You can't be... That bad..."

I can see the King's unamused face in the corner of my eye. I try not to visibly cringe, I wish I could just hide under the table. 

"Well, I know you'll make a great husband," Jessamy giggles. "You've certainly had enough practice." She quickly turns toward me with her sickly sweet grin, "We used to play house as kids. D'arcy was always stuck playing the husband."

"I was the dog," Carrick pipes in. "Jess tried to make me the baby once, so I bit her."

"You know, Glenn," The king begins, claiming his seat. "I always thought D'arcy would end up marrying one of your girls."

D'arcy stiffens at the comment, "At least I'm not marrying the dog."

The king's eyes meet mine for a moment, "We'll see."

D'arcy grips a chair, his knuckles turning white. The legs loudly scrape against the floor as he pulls it back. With a quick sweep of his arm he motions for me to take the seat. It might of been  a sweet gesture if he wasn't glaring at the king the entire time. 

I sink into the chair as my heart sinks into my stomach. The Delaney's just look uncomfortable and the Weston's look ready to fight. What happened to the happy, family reunion vibe we had two seconds ago? I take in the guests as they claim their spots. What if they blame me for ruining dinner?

Like, they haven't even brought out the meal and I've already screwed things up!