Signed, Sealed, Delivered

Chapter 2

All of the air left my lungs as the doors swung open.

I finally understood why I’d spent the day feeling like everyone knew what was going on except me. A great deal of planning had obviously gone into this insane scheme, and I had no doubt that my mother was the mastermind behind it.

I couldn’t help but feel betrayed that she’d all but sold me off to some nobleman without even telling me. She no doubt knew that, had I been aware of her plans, I’d have found a way to ensure they did not come to fruition.

I looked to my father on my right. His expression appeared pained. He seemed to be an unwilling participant in this circus.

To my left, my mother was still grinning. Now, however, it was for the benefit of the hundred or so people who were already milling around the ballroom below us, socialising.

The doorway we’d come through opened onto a balcony level that wrapped around the entire ballroom, providing a bird’s eye view of the festivities below. Directly in front of us was a grand staircase that opened out onto the main floor below.

My mother and father stepped forward, leaving me alone in the doorway. They paused at the top of the staircase, arm in arm, as the Master of Ceremonies introduced them in a booming voice which echoed around the cavernous space.

The lively waltz music that had been playing faded away as the orchestra seamlessly moved into the opening bars of the Genian Anthem.

My hands were shaking. I tucked them into the folds of my skirts to hide the tremouring as my mother and father descended the staircase, moving farther and farther away from me until I was left standing on the balcony alone.

I felt heat in my cheeks as over one hundred eyes, which had been intently focused on my parents, now turned on me.

I took my first step forward, my breath catching in my throat.

The man who had supposedly been promised my hand in marriage waited for me below. My head felt light as I began to comprehend what that could mean for me. I had never even been in love, never mind been engaged to be married. Any future I had imagined for myself was now uncertain.

I knew that, once I reached the bottom of the staircase, my life would change irreversibly. Whether for the good or the bad, I was unsure.

Tension surged down my back and into my legs, my every instinct telling me to pick up my skirts and run away, as far and as fast as I could.

I knew that wasn’t an option for me, though. Royal duties had to be upheld.

I steadied myself. I took a deep breath. Distantly, I heard the Master of Ceremonies announce my arrival to the crowd.

I took a step forward.

The only sound that could be heard over the low tinkling of the orchestra was the click of my heels as I descended each step.

The staircase seemed to go on forever. I kept my eyes trained on a portrait on the far wall in order to tune out the crowd that waited for me below. It was a trick Father had taught me to make me less nervous when attending Court functions as a child.

When I’d almost reached the bottom, I chanced a look around the ballroom.

Despite so many eyes on me, I felt that many were looking through me as opposed to at me. No one was making direct eye contact.

Except one.

A pair of piercing blue eyes looked back at me with such an intensity that it made me feel breathless for just a moment. My foot fumbled while looking for the next step but I righted myself quickly.

The owner of the blue eyes smirked and broke eye contact. His gaze moved to the floor, and I could’ve sworn he was laughing under his breath.

My cheeks burned. What a jerk.

I raised my chin and carried on down the staircase until I met my father at the bottom. He held out his arm for me to take, which I did with great relief, glad to be reunited.

I was guided forward towards where my mother stood. Opposite her, a strikingly beautiful woman was dipped in an elegant curtsy.

‘Thank you for your most generous hospitality, Queen Melinda. We are honoured to be here as your guests,’ she said graciously.

‘The honour is all mine,’ replied my mother. ‘I will be most glad to see the union of our two great families.’

My mother turned and wrapped a gloved hand around my arm as I came to a stop beside her. Her grip was tight, as though she thought I might run away if she let go.

That wasn’t to say I hadn’t considered doing just that.

‘May I present my daughter, Princess Genevieve of Genia,’ Mother said, pulling me forward a step.

The pit in my stomach now felt like a boulder. I sunk into a curtsy, as did the woman who had greeted my mother.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’ I murmured.

‘And you, Princess Genevieve. We are truly privileged to be welcoming you into our family. It is my hope that you will be very happy with my son.’

I kept my eyes fixed on the ground as my heart gave a squeeze so violent I thought I might faint. I wondered if running away was still an option.

A pair of black leather boots stepped into my line of vision. Slowly, I began to raise my head.

A tall, lean man, dressed all in black finery, stood before me. He gave off an aura of casual confidence, standing with one thumb hooked into the belt loop on his trousers. His fingers, I noticed, were adorned with silver rings.

I dipped into another curtsy and finally lifted my gaze to meet his. I felt myself sway as I took in the lazy smirk and piercing blue eyes that had seemed to mock me earlier.

So this was my supposed future husband.

He didn’t seem phased at all that he, too, was being forced into this marriage arrangement. In fact, he looked positively amused.

Something about the mischievous look dancing in his eyes aggravated me. Was this all just a joke to him?

He swept forward in one elegant movement and grabbed my hand, brushing a cool kiss across my knuckles. I resisted the urge to pull away, and instead plastered a smile on my face.

‘How nice to meet you. My name is Genevieve.’

‘The pleasure is all mine, Genevieve. You can call me Tristan,’ he replied. His voice was deep and smooth, but did nothing to endear him to me.

Still holding my hand, he leaned closer than he ought to have dared and whispered, ‘There are plenty of other things you can call me, but I’d rather have that conversation when we’re alone, wouldn’t you?’

I pulled my hand from his and took a firm step back, all trace of pleasantness gone from my face. ‘I’m sure you would like that very much, Prince Tristan,’ I replied timelessly.

His half-smirk had stretched into a full blown grin. Heat swelled in my belly as the reminder that I was expected to marry this rakish man washed over me.

‘I would like very much if you’d allow me to have your first dance of the evening,’ he shot back, charm dripping from every word.

‘I-’

‘What a truly marvellous idea,’ my mother interrupted, placing her hand on the small of my back in order to push me closer to Prince Tristan, closing the distance between us. ‘But first, let us toast to the happy couple!’

Right on cue, a butler materialised with a tray of shiny silver wine goblets.

My father lifted his high in the air and boomed, ‘Please be upstanding for the engagement of my daughter Genevieve to Prince Tristan of Virgam. May you both be healthy and happy in marriage, and may our two kingdoms be blessed with prosperity and peace as a result of your union.’

The sound of many glasses clinking filled the air, along with good-natured cheering and applause. The thought that every person in the room had known what was being celebrated tonight except me enraged me.

I reached for a wine glass from the butler’s tray, fully intent on downing it in one gulp. A large, bejewelled hand beat me to it. Prince Tristan swept two goblets off the tray and held one out for me to take.

‘To my future bride,’ he declared indulgently, raising his glass.

I knew if I looked behind me, Mother would have the air of the proverbial cat that got the cream. I was sure she was falling for Prince Tristan’s faux charm hook, line and sinker.

As it happened, I was become more and more frustrated by it. I couldn’t shake the feeling that every word, every gesture, was somehow making fun of me.

I tipped my glass ever so slightly to acknowledge the toast, and then raised it to my lips to take a hearty swig of wine. I held it there longer than I needed to, if only to hide my face for a few seconds in order to prepare for what was coming next.

I felt a sudden ache for Caleb. If only he’d been here, I would’ve felt like I had at least one person on my side.

Prince Tristan placed his glass back on the tray, and so I did the same. I thought that, if I could just make it through this dance, I may be able to cry off the rest of the evening with a well timed stomach ailment or dizzy spell.

I took Prince Tristan’s now outstretched hand and let him lead me to the centre of the ballroom floor, where the crowd had parted to make room for us.

His hands were large, much larger than mine, and cool to the touch. The cold bite of his rings against my skin was strangely grounding.

The opening notes of a waltz soared around the room. I had been to many balls in my life, and so I reasoned that this dance should be no different to all the others.

Except that the man in front of me was supposed to be my future husband.

I pushed that thought far from my mind and placed my hand on Tristan’s shoulder, letting him take my other hand in his. I felt his other hand go to rest on my waist.

And then we were dancing.