Meet.
2153 Words
When I turned around to see who spoke, that was when I saw him. His bright, dark eyes glittered, and his lips curved into a wide smile—a smile that made my heart skip a beat.
He wore white hose and breeches, paired with a crisp white ruffled shirt beneath a black coat embroidered with gold along the sleeves and hem.
Draped over his shoulders was a golden cloak that shimmered under the light.
His eyes were striking—bright and wide, framed by thick lashes. His nose was slightly long but well-proportioned, complementing his full, handsome lips.
Perfectly arched brows framed his face, while his jet-black hair fell in loose waves to his shoulders, with a few strands casually brushing across his face.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the man standing before me. He was breathtakingly beautiful, and my heart raced so fast I thought I might faint. I stared at him for so long that I barely noticed Claudia curtsying to him.
“Yes. Yes, she is beautiful.” I stammered nervously after a long silence.
Swallowing hard, I glanced at the portrait behind me, then back at him—struck by the striking resemblance between the two.
He stepped closer, leaving only a small space between us. His smile remained, his eyes locked on mine.
Gently, he took my right hand in his and slowly bent down to place a kiss on the back of my palm. The warmth of his lips sent shivers down my spine, and I struggled to breathe, letting out shaky breaths.
“I didn’t expect to find anyone here in the gallery at this hour, my lady.” He said as his lips left my skin. He released my hand, though I longed to feel it in his again.
“I came to look at her.” I replied, nodding toward the portrait.
“Ah, I see you’re also mesmerized by her beauty.” He observed.
“Certainly, my lord.” I agreed with a soft smile.
He smiled back. “I come here often to look at her. She is my greatest source of strength and inspiration.” We fell silent, the moment heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Suddenly, the gallery door flung open and closed quickly behind someone. He turned to see who it was—my brother
David. He sighed deeply when he saw us, then walked swiftly over. Stopping before the handsome man beside me, David bowed politely, his hands folded behind his back.
“Long live the King, Your Majesty.” David said calmly, addressing the man beside me. But I was anything but calm. My eyes widened in shock. The King?
I darted my gaze from the beautiful man—whom my brother just called the King—to David himself, who was wearing a composed smile.
“Ah, David, Duke of Pire. What are you doing here? The dinner is on the top floor.” My handsome visitor asked.
“Oh no, Your Majesty. I’m here to fetch my sister. She wandered off, and I’ve been searching for her for a while now.” My brother replied.
The King turned to me. Our eyes met, and I saw surprise flash across his face. His gaze drifted down to my bosom where the pendant rested. A soft laugh escaped his lips at the sight.
Turning back to David, he said, “I had no idea she was Lillian of Ravenshire, truly.” Then back to me: “I see you have accepted my gift, my princess.”
My hands instinctively reached for the pendant, gently caressing it. “I have, Your Majesty. Thank you.” I said with a graceful curtsy.
He smiled warmly. “I’ll leave you two now. See you at dinner.”
His footsteps echoed as he retreated, and the gallery doors closed behind him.
“I told you to wait for me!” David’s voice rose sharply as soon as the doors shut.
I met his furious gaze. The composed man from moments ago was gone, replaced by something fierce. But I didn’t back down this time.
A new courage surged within me after that encounter. Holding his glare, I said quietly, “Well, I met him without you lifting a finger.”
“I was going to speak with him—I just couldn’t find him.” David muttered.
“And I did.” I whispered back.
Turning toward the door, Claudia followed close behind. Just before stepping out, I glanced back and saw my gazing at the portrait. I smiled—who could resist such a beauty?
“Are you coming?” I asked.
Startled, he turned and walked toward me. Together, we left the gallery.
***
Phillip's POV:
I was nervous. Very nervous. I knew the princess from Ravenland—the one destined to be my bride—had arrived.
I had met her brother briefly sometime after their arrival. We’d run into each other in a hallway, exchanged introductions, and that was the extent of our acquaintance.
I didn’t want to meet her just yet. After all, I only knew her from a small portrait shown to my grandmother and me. I had no idea what to expect.
My grandmother had held that portrait in her hands for a long time, her eyes fixed on it in silence, before finally announcing that this was the woman I was going to marry.
The entire day had been hectic—meetings, endless tasks, and the usual games. By dusk, I had no energy left for dinner. All I wanted was a quiet meal in my chambers.
But no, tonight was for the princess, Lillian. Reluctantly, I bathed, dressed in black and white, and left my room.
Descending the stairs, I was overwhelmed by the crowd swarming the palace.
Servants bustled everywhere, guards stood watch at every corner, and early guests to the dinner roamed the halls, bowing as I passed.
I wanted to escape—from the noise, the crowd, the endless pleasantries. The gallery—yes, that was the place.
The gallery had always been my sanctuary. Empty, save for portraits of Everia’s kings, queens, princes, and princesses.
Its calm had soothed me since childhood—the one place I could retreat to away from the chaos of Stormont Court.
When the guards swung open the large gallery doors, I stepped inside. My eyes immediately caught sight of the red gown at the far end of the room.
Behind the figure in red, dressed in brown, stood another woman. Though their backs were to me, I recognized their social ranks by their dresses—the red gown marked the upper class, the brown dress a lower one.
Who they were, I didn’t know.
Curiosity drew me closer. I never expected anyone from court to visit the gallery at night, but here were two women, lost in the same gaze I had held for over a decade.
“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” I asked as I drew near, hoping to catch their attention.
Both women turned swiftly at the sound of my voice. The one in the brown gown curtsied almost immediately.
I recognized her—Claudia. She had served in the court since she was a young girl, just like her mother before her, who had been a loyal attendant to my grandmother.
No doubt that loyalty was why my grandmother insisted Claudia be the princess’s personal escort. I gave her a slight nod in acknowledgment.
Then, my gaze shifted to the woman in red.
She was stunning. Truly breathtaking. Her jet-black hair, like mine, was tied up in a large bun.
Her deep blue eyes locked onto mine, sparkling brilliantly under the light. Her pointed nose was perfectly shaped, her lips full and softly pink.
Her brows arched gracefully, and her skin was smooth and glowing—like a precious gem catching the light.
I smiled, trying to hide just how mesmerized I was by her beauty.
***
Narrator's POV:
When the guests settled into their seats in the grand dining hall, the King rose from his chair, the wood scraping softly against the polished marble floor.
The hall fell into a heavy silence, every gaze fixed on him. A warm smile played on his handsome face as he lifted his cup.
“Thank you all for joining me this evening as we welcome Princess Lillian of Ravenland, who will soon be my wife.” His deep voice echoed through the room. “To the amiable Lady Howard, thank you for organizing this event. And to the Princess of Ravenland.”
A loud ovation erupted as he finished, then he sat, eyes scanning the crowd until they settled on the girl he had met earlier in the gallery — his future wife.
She sat ten seats to his right. Her brother was to her left, and an unfamiliar woman to her right. Her red court dress was the most striking gown in the room, without question.
Yet she wasn’t smiling like the others. She didn’t eagerly sample the food before her. She sat coldly, occasionally leaning toward the woman beside her to listen, but otherwise distant.
It unsettled him. He hated that she seemed unhappy, that she wasn’t laughing or chatting with those around her. Tonight was meant for her, yet she appeared not to enjoy it.
Still, he maintained his composure—sipping his drink, nibbling at his meal, laughing at the jokes of the men around him. Yet his eyes kept drifting back to her, finding her the same every time.
After a while, once he was certain everyone was satisfied, he rose again. The room hushed once more, all eyes upon him. He smiled warmly.
“If you don’t mind, shall we continue in the ballroom? There’s music and I would very much like to dance.” He chuckled softly and began making his way to the door, the scraping of chairs filling the hall behind him.
The guests filled the ballroom in droves, the music heavy in the air and the atmosphere perfectly suited for the evening’s festivities. Yet no one danced—not yet.
Everian custom forbade any citizen from beginning an activity before the monarch when he was present.
When the King entered, the crowd quickly parted to make way. He strode directly toward the lady in the red court dress—his future bride.
She stood shy and surprised, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson as the King, standing before her, extended his right hand.
“May I have this dance?” His hoarse voice came with a gentle smile.
Blinking rapidly and chuckling softly, she extended her hand, placing her palm in his. Her hand seemed tiny in his, their warmth and softness mingling in the brief touch.
Palms locked, they moved gracefully to the dance floor. Both skilled dancers, they flowed with the music, eyes locked on one another. When the dance ended, the audience erupted into thunderous applause.
As they stepped off the floor to make way for others, she felt his warm breath brush her ear, followed by a whispered invitation. “Shall we take a walk, my lady?”
She nodded softly. Linking arms, they exited the ballroom together.
Outside, the night air was soothing, wrapping around them as they strolled toward the garden. The moon shone brightly, illuminating their path.
Apart from the distant music of the Stormont palace, now several miles away, the only sounds were the gentle rustling of leaves and the swaying of trees.
“What do you think?” His voice broke the silence, jolting her from her thoughts.
“About what?” She asked, her eyes meeting his.
“The palace, the court. I suppose you’re not disappointed?” He stopped walking, and she did the same, turning to gaze at the grand edifice behind them.
“It’s beautiful. Enormous.” She smiled softly.
He nodded and resumed walking, she following suit.
“Back at dinner, I noticed you seemed unhappy. Is something wrong?” His voice came again after a pause.
“It’s just my brother. He was furious about me wandering off like that—scolding me—and I was unhappy about it.” She answered quietly.
He chuckled. “Ah, yes. Brothers.” He said playfully. “I’m glad I never had one.”
“Lucky you.” She replied with a smile, and they both laughed.
They resumed walking.
“Pray tell, what were you doing in the gallery, staring at my grandmother like that?” he suddenly asked.
“Nothing much. It’s a beautiful painting, and I was drawn to it. Please, tell me more about her—I learned her name is Catherine of Calonia.”
He was about to respond when they suddenly heard footsteps approaching. They both turned, their eyes meeting an approaching woman whose features became clearer with every step.
- Writer
