Chapter 3: A Wedding
1194 Words
-Grace-
“Princess, no running! Think of your heart!”
I ignored my governess, Estella, and continued running through the gardens, holding up my long blue dress. I relished the first warm day after the long, harsh winter. The cold had always been perilous for me, and there was always doubt about whether I would survive it.
Many physicians had believed I wouldn’t make it past my first year, but I surprised everyone by reaching my twenty-first year, still unaffected by the congenital heart defect that had weakened me.
“Princess!”
“Oh, come now, Estella. It’s spring! Can’t you feel the warmth in your bones and the love in the air?” I called back.
“You speak of love as if you know something about it,” she retorted.
Estella was an older woman with mostly gray hair. Though she was stern, she had never treated me unkindly. She could grow impatient, of course, and a lecture would follow, but it was never anything hurtful.
“Have you ever read a romance novel?” I inquired.
She had finally caught up to me. Although the ground was no longer covered in snow, she was still panting. Her body and lungs clearly weren’t what they used to be.
“Those are filled with nonsense,” she replied. “You should spend your time on history, geography, and languages, not these silly stories.”
“Estella, don’t lie to me. I know you’ve read at least one,” I teased.
“I’m your teacher,” she said.
“That’s not an answer!” I laughed.
She gave me a secretive smile before turning serious. “I mean it, Your Highness. Don’t let those stories mislead you. They create false ideas about marriage when you know a marriage is—”
“A beneficial arrangement between two families. I know... but—”
“No buts!”
“My parents had love in theirs. You even said anyone could see from afar how in love they were!” I argued.
She didn’t respond, but I was right. Even she knew it.
“Princess Grace!” A young maid came running toward us, breathless from the effort. We had walked quite far.
“What is it, Lisa?” I asked.
“Y-Your father has returned.”
“My father?”
I didn’t wait for confirmation. I dashed past both of them, hearing Estella yell, “Princess! Your heart!”
But I ignored her and ran back to the castle, through the grand entrance, up the stairs, and around the corner, just as my formidable father, clad in armor and crown, came into view.
“Father!” I shouted.
I rushed toward him. He was accompanied by trusted knights and lords, looking so regal, but his stern expression softened when he saw me. He smiled as he caught me in his embrace.
“Grace,” he said warmly.
Being apart from him was never easy, even though he rarely had time for me. He set me back on my feet, and as he looked down at me, he ran a hand through my hair.
“What did I tell you about running?” he inquired.
“Not to do it,” I replied with an innocent smile.
He laughed and placed an arm around my shoulder. We walked toward his study, with his trusted men following behind. While others might find them intimidating, to me, they were just part of this complex family. I had always seen them around.
“How was the north?” I asked.
“Fierce,” my father replied as we entered the study.
He settled behind the large desk, and I stood beside him, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, with my hands clasped behind my back.
“What?” he inquired.
“Have you forgotten something?”
He looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled and laughed heartily. “Of course. I always bring presents from my travels, don’t I?”
I nodded as he reached into a pouch at his belt and produced a beautiful black stone speckled with tiny white dots.
“It is said to hold magic,” he told me.
I took the stone, admiring its unique beauty, just as Lord Edward spoke up. “Should she really be handling that? It could be cursed. Remember, it was used by the barbarians.”
My father waved off his eldest advisor’s concerns. I knew Edward had lost a son in the northern campaign, and I understood his worry. He had watched me grow up and was close to my father.
I moved to sit beside my father, a little away from his desk, as the others gathered around.
“Well, perhaps it’s time we discussed the wedding,” Lord Edward suggested.
I glanced from the stone to my father, puzzled.
“There’s going to be a wedding?” I asked.
My father’s expression darkened, and I didn’t immediately understand why. As the men exchanged glances, the realization dawned on me. I stood up, unable to believe what was unfolding.
“No, father. Please,” I pleaded.
“The situation in the north was more difficult than we anticipated. We lost too many men. Marrying King Hector—”
“King Hector? You mean that old king from Henla in the south? You can’t be serious!”
“Grace—”
“No! He’s an old man! He has four sons. Why am I marrying him?” I shouted.
“He’s lost his sons in the war...”
“So, I’m just a replacement for a war you started?” I demanded.
“I did not start it!” my father retorted. “Those barbarians would have come here eventually, threatening us all. We needed to act before they had the chance.”
“But he’s fifty!”
“And he’s very wealthy, with more soldiers than we have in this entire kingdom!” my father countered.
“Please. You can’t expect me to marry him. He’s far too old.”
My father sighed, his resolve unshaken, and it seemed that Estella was right: marriage was devoid of love. It was merely a strategic alliance between two families.
“Father!” But he wouldn’t meet my gaze. I turned to the other men, only to find them avoiding my eyes like cowards. Frustrated, I slammed my hands on my father’s desk. “I refuse!”
“You cannot refuse.”
“But I do!” I yelled.
“Grace, I am your father and your king. You will do as I say!”
“You’re condemning me to a life of loneliness. I’ll throw myself off the roof!”
“Grace, do not threaten me,” he growled. “Go to your room. You will stay there for the rest of the day.”
I could hardly believe him, or any of them. They were handing me over to an old fool, and no one was saying a word against it. Angrily, I turned away, knowing that if they wanted me to marry him, I would. But I refused to make it easy for them.
- Writer
