To Wed A King

Wasted Decisions

Tense silence fell between them. The only thing that punctuated the air was Adeline's broken, heavy breaths, her chest heaving hard and fast, her body lightly trembling. How could he even think of that request? She had spent most of her life envisioning her life with Evander. Just for it to suddenly be broken up, to be shattered, it did not make sense.

"Father. You can not honour this request, and you know it. You can not do this to me! What of Evander? What of the years of betrothal? Of promise? What of everything we have fistered with Corvalon?"

"How dare you speak of honour? If you had honoured my words, if you had honoured my decisions, you would never have been to Vahrenhall! I, as a king and a father, would never have to be faced with a decision between his only daughter and his kingdom! How dare you, Adeline?"

She swallowed, taking a step back, her chest heaving. Tears were streaming down her eyes uncontrollably. She had never seen her father so angry, and the reality of the situation slowly started to dawn on her.

Her eyes lowered to her feet, finding more solace in the blurred vision of the dark red royal carpets beneath her feet than she did in her father's face.

She held her breath for a long moment, then slowly looked up to him again, her eyes slowly blinking.

"What are you going to do now, Father? Surely, you can not..."

He shook his head and sat back, one hand slowly coveting his face. "Return to your chambers."

"Father."

"I said return. Immediately!"

She froze, her fingers clenching hard and tight, her lips quivering so hard she could not trust it to let any words through. Realizing she was utterly helpless, she turned away, her tears accompanying her and ran out of the chamber.

The soldiers she had seen earlier were still in front of the palace, probably waiting for a reply. Without a word, she turned away and walked back to her chamber.

"My lady...."

"Stay out," she said, her voice cold. "I do not wish to meet anyone today."

The handmaiden nodded, then closed the door and stood outside it, just in case she would be needed later.

Adeline leaned on the closed door, her eyes closing, the tears dropping to moisten up her lips. Her teeth gritted hard, her oalms flattening against the door, her chest heaving. Slowly, she went down to the floor, her heart breaking again and again. She could not even remember the man she had seen yesterday, but it also did not matter.

He was not a duke from Corvalon. He was not Evander. He was not the man she had loved her entire life.

She turned to the flowers, her chest tightening against her heart. How would it be if her father decided to break the engagement with Corvalon just to spare the kingdom? Just to avoid war?

Slowly, she reached out for the flowers, her fingers lightly trembling. They were warm, smelled like heaven, and she could still remember Evander's passionate kisses on her hands, her lips, her neck as he had brought them to her.

How could she ever be with someone else? How could she ever live under another man? Especially one so ruthless, so wicked that everyone seemed to quiver on his name?

She felt her chest tighten even harder. She could not. Not while she was alive.

Grabbing the flowers, she ran down the long pathway back to her father's chambers. He was still alone, his eyes closed, his lips set in a straight line.

"I am not a gift, father," she said, her chest heaving, her eyes set in cold and ice.

Her father met her eyes, his brows slightly raised. "What?"

"I... I am not a gift! I am Evander's wife! I am Evander's..."

"Will you be able to say that in front of a sword?"

She swallowed. "I would say it at the very doors of hell."

Silence fell between them, and her father broke into a small, wistful smile. Slowly, he moved, then reached for the arrangement of empty scrolls beside him.

He grabbed one, then hauled it at her. It fell directly at her feet, opening up ssk8gjtlt to show just how empty it was.

"Then do it."

"Father,"

"You said you could proclaim that love in front of a sword. At the very doors of hell. There. Say it to the emperor of Vahrenhall."

She blinked, then leaned slowly to grab the scroll from the floor. She met her father's eyes. They were neutral, and she looked away, then walked to grab the ink.

He watched her do it without a single word, his expression unreadable.

Adeline slowly sat on the carpet, then cragywd the letter. She was truly flattered by his interest, but she was set to be married to the Duke of Corvalon, and that is an arrangement she will not break.

Once she finished, she waited for the ink to dry, then slowly closed the scroll and turned to her father.

"Does this make you happy?" He asked, his voice low.

She swallowed, unable to answer. She was mot sure how to, especially with how disappointed he looked.

He did not even seem like he needed her answer, and with a flick of his fingers, a soldier came.

He collected the scroll from her, then walked away, leaving them both alone again.

She swallowed, her trembling fingers wiping her tears away. Slowly, she stood, her fingers grabbing onto her dress for support. She thought she would be relieved once she got her way, but instead, there was a settling sense of dread and imminent doom.

"I hope you remember your choice later, Adeline."

She turned. Her father's eyes were moist, his posture weak.

"Father?"

"I hope one day, if you ever get to love again, you will know better than to let it be so selfish. If I ever get the chance to be a father again, I hope I have enough control over my daughter."

She felt a tear trickle down her cheek. She knew what he meant. But for that one moment, she had been blind. She turned to the door and ran outside, but the soldiers were gone, and the arrow had been shot. Now, she had to sit back and watch whose blood its blade would return with.

VAHRENHALL

Emperor Lucan gave a small smile as yet another arrow went straight into the bull's eye. He knew it would, but there was a thrill, especially when a servant's life depended on it. The servant swallowed hard, looking up. He loved to see them quiver in fear.

"Your Majesty."

He turned to Angel, who was holding a scroll.

"What is it?"

"The response from Olyndria has arrived."

Lucan smiled again. "Should I arrange my carriages or my troops?"

Angel swallowed, then slowly opened the letter. He read it slowly to Lucan's hearing, who turned back to pick another arrow.

Suddenly, he stopped, his eyes squinting as he turned to Angel.

"Who?"

"Your Majesty?"

"What duke is she betrothed to?"

Angel looked down. "A duke of Corvalon."

Lucan's lips parted. "Corvalon? The Corvalon that I know?"

Angel nodded. He had hoped that Lucan would miss that fact. "Yes, Your Majesty. The sons of Corvalon, twelve years ago, they gang..."

"Stop," Lucan breathed, his eyes thin. "They seem to be everywhere they do not need to be."

"We never got revenge for her, Your Majesty."

Lucan gave a small smile, his eyes thinning. He let go of the bow and arrow he was using, his hands slowly clasping behind him.

"Which of the dukes?"

Angel looked back at the letter. "Duke Evander. He is one of the younger princes."

Lucan burst into a laugh. "How very tragic, do you not agree, Angel?"

Angel gave a slow nod. "Your Majesty, give the order."

Lucan turned to the guards around him. Silence fell between them for a while, before he smiled, his eyes thinning.

"Sieze Corvalon by sunrise. And transport her betrothed to her, stripped. I like the colour of her eyes when she looks confused. So I will give her a choice. Arrange for my trip to Olyndria."

Angel nodded, then bowed his head as Lucan walked past him, his strong scent lingering behind. By tomorrow, his scent will be tainted with the sickly sweet smell of blood and victory.