He Objects

Chapter 8: Leaving

When we finally emerged from the room, the church nave was empty. I squinted, as though the change in perception might reveal hidden wedding guests among the pews. The bishop sure had acted fast, clearing everyone out.

"Let's go," my mother said briskly, pushing me toward my father. I took his arm gratefully. Quite frankly, I needed support.

By this time, I should have been Felix's wife. Duchess of Baltingshire. A member of the powerful Kentworth family. Instead, I was being ushered away by my family through the echoing church, my future uncertain. For some reason, I felt jilted at the altar, though that was far from what happened.

When we got outside, the duke's carriage was already rolling away, the unhappy duke and dowager duchess hidden by the drawn curtain in the window. The carriage with the Rivaldia crest on it was just pulling up, behind a sleek black carriage. Though simple in color, it was masterfully built, with fine detail and streamlined sides. On the door was a silver emblazoned royal coat of arms, two wolves framing a shield with a moon and a trio of stars. It made a striking contrast against the rich black of the carriage.

"Marquess Rivaldia," Prince Henri called, suddenly appearing from around the back of the carriage. I balked a little. How did such a tall man move so quietly?

"Yes, Your Highness?" my father said hurriedly, ushering my mother into our carriage before she could cut in. I could tell he was as in a hurry to get out of there as I was. Many of the guests from the church hadn't gone far, and still lingered in front of the nearby shops under the pretext of perusing the windows, all the while avidly keeping an eye on the biggest gossip of the season.

"I'll call on you tomorrow to get started," the prince said, completely unbothered by the onlookers. My father nodded and I moved to get into the carriage, away from prying eyes, stretching out my hand for my father to help me in. But, in a move so smooth I nearly missed it, the prince slipped over and I ended up grasping his hand instead.

My breath hitched. His hand was large and warm and unexpectedly rough, and I swear I felt his touch down to the tips of my toes. All too soon, I was settled in the carriage, my skin cold where his fingers used to be. Did I imagine that feeling?

"Yes, tomorrow," my father said nervously, slightly taken aback at the prince's closeness. "We'll see you in the morning. Good day, Your Highness."

"Good day," Prince Henri replied, turning his silver eyes on me. "Lady Charlotte."

"Your Highness," I managed to say.

He nodded once at my father, then strode over to the black carriage and got inside in a flash. After a beat, my father climbed up into our own carriage, and we were finally, blessedly allowed to leave the scene of my greatest humiliation to date.

I made sure the curtain over the window was closed, and leaned my head against the glass, the thin fabric allowing the coolness to seep through and calm the heated skin on my forehead. Even now, thinking back to the events in that room, I was at a total loss. Just what was the prince thinking? His words and actions were beyond baffling...

I had vaguely wondered whether all the breathable air was being sucked out of the room with the continual gasping, as my parents and the bishop had done once again after the prince's announcement that I might end up as his betrothed instead of Felix's. I saw my mother's mind at work already, wondering if she would be able to spin this to her advantage—as though she could somehow guarantee my betrothal to the prince.

Felix had laughed humorlessly. "Alright, cousin. We'll see how this plays out. But might I ask you to consider one thing?"

Prince Henri gazed at him impassively. "Well?"

Felix looked at me. "Let Lady Charlotte have a say in who she marries. Regardless of the outcome of your little 'inquiry.'"

The prince raised his eyebrows, then looked briefly at me before returning his attention to Felix. "No."

I blinked, surprised. He had seemed so attentive to me earlier, to hear him dismiss any feelings I had out of hand was jarring.

As if he could read my mind, Felix turned to me. "This is what he's like, Lady Charlotte. Your feelings wouldn't matter, married to him." He ducked his head. "I know I haven't made things...easy, between us. But I would take you into consideration in our union. He can't say the same."

"Felix, enough." It wasn't the prince, but Duchess Gretchen who had finally put the conversation to an end. "Lady Charlotte has already said that she will not go against the crown's wishes. There's no point in continuing to push her."

Though seeming to ignore her, Felix did finally acquiesce. Though not before he murmured in my ear. "Think about it..."

I sighed, then winced as the carriage went over a bump in the road, jostling me against the window. "It will be okay, princess," my father tried to reassure me. But I could see the worry in his eyes. And no wonder. Though I wasn't sure how everything would play out, I knew this was wrapped up in politics and agendas as much as anything else. My reputation was likely already damaged by my failed marriage. I could only imagine the rumors being spread. If the outcome of the prince's inquiry didn't result in my immediate marriage to the prince or the duke, I—and by association, my entire family—would be ruined. I couldn't help but wonder if being married to Prince Henri would be any better than Felix. He had seemed so supportive at first, only to say he didn't care about my feelings without batting an eyelash. Would I be trading one cold man for another?

I thought once again of Prince Henri. I hope you know what you're doing. Because I would never forgive him if his interference with the wedding, seemingly a blessing at first, turned out to be my demise instead.