Chapter Four – First Impressions
910 Words
The sun hung low over Aurelia’s palace grounds, washing the marble corridors in a warm golden glow. Star stood by her bedroom window, her fingers lightly brushing the curtain as she looked out toward the gardens – A view she had missed so dearly and couldn’t get enough of. Everything felt familiar, yet slightly different — as though the palace had waited for her, holding its breath.
Her luggage remained half-unpacked on the floor. She couldn’t bring herself to finish; her mind felt too full.
A knock sounded at her door.
“It’s open,” she called gently.
Cynthia slipped in, her face bright and warm as always. “Your mother wants to know if you’re ready for the welcome banquet. The royal family of Dalverra has just arrived.”
Star’s heart stumbled. “Already?”
Cynthia nodded, stepping closer. “Don’t panic. It’s not the official meeting. They’re just having tea with your parents first. You don’t have to show up yet.”
Star let out a soft sigh of relief. “Good.”
Cynthia watched her for a moment. “You’re nervous.”
“I’m… processing,” Star admitted. “It’s strange. I never imagined my marriage would be arranged; it feels surreal, and hearing it spoken aloud… makes it real.”
Cynthia rested a hand on her shoulder. “You’re not being forced. Your parents just want you to meet him.”
Star nodded slowly. “I know.”
She tried to smile, but the weight of what was coming pressed against her chest. She didn’t want to disappoint anyone — not her parents, not her kingdom. Yet she also didn’t want to be reduced to a pawn on a board she didn’t design.
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Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the palace, Ryan walked in quiet contemplation down a polished hallway, his hands clasped behind his back. Dalverran princes seldom showed emotion in public, but the long journey — and the purpose behind it — had worn on him more than he cared to admit.
Adrian strolled beside him, far less composed. “This place is magnificent,” he whispered loudly, admiring the intricate carvings on the pillars. “Aurelia certainly knows how to impress a guest.”
Ryan gave a small grunt. “It’s a palace, Adrian. They usually look like this.”
“You could at least pretend to be interested,” Adrian nudged him. “You’re meeting your maybe-fiancée’s family.”
Ryan’s jaw tightened. “Let’s not call it that.”
Adrian smirked. “Alright, your future queen. Better?”
Ryan shot him a look that could curdle milk.
From behind them, footsteps approached — Amelia skipping forward to join them.
“Ryan,” she half-sang, half-scolded, “do try not to look like you’ve been dragged here against your will.”
“I was dragged here against my will,” he replied dryly.
“Well, hide it,” Amelia said, patting her brother’s shoulder. “Your face looks like it wants to abdicate.”
Ryan exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. His sister always had that effect on him — pulling humor from places he preferred to keep closed.
Adrian pointed toward the expansive garden doors at the end of the corridor. “Is that the princess?”
Ryan followed his gaze.
Across the courtyard, a young woman stood among the hedges, laughing softly as she listened to an elderly gardener. She wasn’t dressed for ceremony — just simple, elegant comfort. No jewels, no entourage, no performance. Her posture was relaxed, her presence unforced.
Beautiful, yes — but not in the polished, practiced way he had come to expect of royalty.
She felt… real.
“You’re staring,” Amelia whispered to him.
Ryan blinked. “I’m observing.”
“Oh certainly,” Amelia teased. “Observing with your mouth slightly open.”
Before Ryan could retort, Star turned — perhaps sensing someone watching — and her eyes briefly met his across the distance. Only for a second. Yet something shifted.
Star’s breath caught.
Ryan’s expression faltered.
And for the first time since the arrangement was announced, neither of them felt entirely certain of the assumptions they had been holding.
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“Should we… greet her?” Adrian asked.
“No,” Ryan answered too quickly. “It would be improper. We’ve not been formally introduced.”
But the firmness in his voice didn’t hide the curiosity in his eyes.
Behind a column, Star quietly stepped back, placing a hand over her racing heart. Cynthia noticed the flush on her cheeks.
“What’s wrong?”
Star shook her head. “Nothing. I just… saw someone.”
“Someone important?”
“Possibly.”
Cynthia grinned. “Oh. Oh. That kind of someone.”
Star elbowed her lightly. “Stop.”
Yet a small part of her wondered:
If that was Prince Ryan…
Why didn’t he look anything like the ugly, cold, arrogant figure she had imagined?
And on the other side of the courtyard, Ryan wondered the same in reverse:
If that was Princess Star…
Why didn’t she seem spoiled, demanding, or entitled at all?
Why did she seem so… unguarded?
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As the evening bells rang and the palace prepared for the welcome banquet, both Star and Ryan found themselves unexpectedly unsettled — not by the arrangement itself, but by the possibility that their assumptions might have been wrong.
And neither of them liked not knowing what came next.
- Writer
