Signed, Sealed, Delivered

Part 1: Signed

Chapter 1

Golden sunlight beat down on my face, warming the freckles on my cheeks. Cool blades of grass tickled the soles of my feet. A warm breeze tugged at the collar of my blouse and the wisps of hair that framed my face.

I tipped my head back and sighed. Early Spring was my favourite time of year - the first tentative appearances of the sun after a long, cold winter, and the promise of fresh life in every new tree leaf and blossoming flower filled me with a sense of peace that I struggled to find elsewhere in my busy life at the palace.

I sat down on the grass and looked out at the vast expanse of fields and rolling hills below me, spread out to the horizon like a lush picnic blanket. I had found the small mountainous ledge I was sitting on many years before, and it had become my best-kept secret in the time since.

Sometimes all I needed was to get away from the constant hustle and bustle that endured behind the high walls of the palace. Today was one such day.

I'd had the feeling this morning that everyone in the palace was busy preparing for something, like everyone from my mother and father, the King and Queen of the Kingdom of Genia, right down to the cooks and chamber maids, were privy to some grand plan that no one had thought to make me aware of.

Stranger than that, I couldn't shake the feeling that people were looking at me differently. Some with wide, shining eyes, like they had a piece of gossip they couldn't wait to share. Others with something that resembled... pity.

It wasn't long before I could no longer stand the curious stares and deafening silence every time I entered a room. So I'd come out to my favourite spot outside the Keep walls in order to clear my head and escape the inexplicable scrutiny I seemed to be under.

I lay back on the grass, spreading out my dark hair in a long fan around my head. I stayed there, for what could've been minutes or hours, watching the clouds float idly by.

I awoke some time later to a warm, velvety snout nuzzling my cheek. Opening my eyes, I came face to face with my horse, Cara, who nickered as I rolled into sitting position.

I absently patted her neck as I looked up at the sky. The sun had long since passed its highest point, which led me to believe it was late afternoon. Surely someone would've noticed I wasn't in the palace by now.

I grimaced and climbed to my feet. I could only imagine the reception that awaited me.

***

The ride back to the palace was short, but just long enough for me to try and piece together a story to explain where I had been for most of the day. Anything to protect my favourite hiding spot.

After parting ways with Cara in the stables, I crept as stealthily as I could manage around the back of the palace - through the creaky gate into the herb garden, along the back of the servants' kitchen, down the stairs into the pantry, into the service corridor and up the back steps to my quarters. I'd crept along this route so many times, I could've done it with my eyes closed.

I crossed paths a few of the palace staff on my way and smiled as I passed them - they were no more surprised to see me in the corridors than each other. I'd been sneaking out of the palace since I was a child.

The odd sensation of being watched crept over me once again as I realised people's gazes were resting on me just a second too long, like I had something on my face. I rubbed the back of my neck to quell the shiver that slid down it.

From the top of the stairwell, I crept along the long corridor that led to my quarters, sighing with relief when I slipped through the door to my bedchamber. Maybe Mother hadn't noticed I was gone after all.

I quickly shed my loose blouse, riding trousers and boots and changed into a casual day dress made of delicate lace. After a quick comb through my windswept hair, I was satisfied that I no longer looked like I'd spent most of my day lounging around on the side of a mountain.

I walked towards the throne room, the nucleus of the palace, with the purposefulness of a woman who'd napped away most of her morning, and the nonchalance of someone trying not to get caught for it.

The portraits of regal relatives long since passed watched over me as I made my way deeper into the palace.

Outside the throne room, another portrait, several times larger than the others, hung above an ornate marble fireplace. The eyes of my mother, my father, my brother, and my younger self gazed back at me.

My father was a tall, stately looking man, with green eyes as hard as emeralds and cropped black hair that was beginning to grey at the temples. His famous beard masked a square jaw and angular features, and was always kept impeccably trimmed.

Caleb, my older brother, had just turned 18 at the time the portrait was painted. He stood just an inch taller than my father, with the same golden curls as my mother. He was only two years older than me but, as the oldest sibling of two, he'd had a much tougher upbringing than me as he would one day take over as the King of Genia. He was 21 now, and spent most of his time travelling around the kingdom, familiarising himself with the land he would one day rule.

I missed him a lot, but I was glad he was getting a chance to live a little before his entire life became consumed with royal duties.

My mother seemed the least intimidating figure in the painting, but I happened to know she was the real force to be reckoned with in the family. She was a small woman, almost comically so when you considered the height of my father, and many of the other men around the palace that she bossed around with ease.

Her curly hair was pinned into a neat up-do in the portrait, although I much preferred it when she wore it down and wild. The deep teal gown and matching crown she wore brought out the flecks of green, blue and gold in her hazel eyes, which looked decidedly less shrewd in the portrait than they normally did.

I'd always assumed the artist had taken some creative license there in order to make her look a little less like she was plotting to take over the world.

'Genevieve!'

I spun with a start. Speak of the devil. 'Mother!'

'I-' my mouth twitched with the urge to spill my hurried explanation as to where I'd been all morning. But as soon as I saw the look on my mother's face, the words dried up and turned to dust on my lips.

'Mother?'

'Genevieve, where have you been?' She grabbed me by the arm and spun me on the spot, hustling me towards the throne room.

'Um-'

I didn't even have time to respond before she spoke again. So much for worrying I'd be missed this morning. 'We have to get you changed, you can't be seen wearing that!' A look filled with disdain was aimed at my hastily chosen outfit.

I frowned. This was one of my favourite dresses. 'Mother, what is going on? What is all this fuss about?'

A smile was playing across my mother's lips that made my heart plummet into my stomach. There was nothing she loved more than a good scheme, and I could recognise her scheming smile from a mile off by now.

I was hurried across the throne room and all but thrown through the doorway into the small antechamber which we used to don our ceremonial clothes before important events.

My mother bustled in behind me and shut the door. As my eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room comparative to that of the throne room with its huge stained glass windows, I gasped.

'Mother, what is—'

'Oh, Genevieve, this is no time to chat! You must change, our guests will be here soon,' she chastened, pushing me firmly towards the beautiful cornflower blue gown that lay draped across an ornate chair in the corner of the room.

I started to get the feeling that she just didn't want to tell me what was going on, but the mention of guests filled me with dread. With a sigh, I let Mother button, clasp and lace me into the dress, and pull my long, wavy hair into some semblance of a style.

One of my mother's maids entered the room quietly as I turned to look in the mirror. She placed two antique wooden boxes on the chair where my dress had been, ducking her head as she disappeared back out the door.

I stared at my reflection. The person looking back at me seemed a far cry from the wild-haired, free-spirited woman I'd been when I snuck back into the palace an hour ago.

I twisted my hips, so that the many layers of the tulle skirt swished around me. A small smile tugged on my lips. As much as I loved putting on my riding gear and sneaking out to the countryside for an adventure, I would always have a soft spot for the billowing ball gowns I got to wear on special occasions.

The tulle caught the light of the candles around the room, giving it a soft sheen that almost made it look like it was glowing. The fabric appeared more lilac than blue in the dim light, with the delicate beading that lined the bodice glinting like stars as I turned from side to side.

A metallic click came from behind me as Mother unclasped one of the wooden boxes on the chair. She appeared in the mirror beside me and beckoned for me to bend down. I did as she asked and let her place a heavy silver tiara, laden with twinkling diamonds, onto my head.

'There, now you look the part,' she beamed.

'Look the part for what?' I asked drily, not expecting an answer. The pit in my stomach seemed to grow heavier and heavier, yet I knew I wouldn't know what we were getting ready for until the exact moment Mother wanted me to know.

The door opened, letting a bright slice of light fill the room. I recognised the large, shadowy figure that filled the doorway as my father.

He, too, was in full formalwear, complete with military regalia and shiny golden epaulettes. Whoever the 'guests' were, this was sure to be a fancy affair.

My father cleared his throat. 'You both look beautiful,' he boomed in his normal cheery voice. I thought I detected a ripple of nervousness though. He turned to address my mother directly. 'Are we ready?'

Mother straightened her crown and grinned like the Cheshire cat. My brother always made the exact same expression when he got his way. She was much too happy about something, and it was giving me cause for panic. 'Oh yes, we're ready.'

I crossed my arms. I could no longer hold back the tension that had been gnawing at me all morning. 'I'm not going anywhere until someone tells me what the hell is going on.'

'Genevieve!' Mother tutted. 'Language!'

'Tell me what's going on!' I repeated loudly.

'Genevieve,' my father soothed, crossing the room to place a large hand on the small of my back. 'I'm sorry you've been kept in the dark about this. Please just come along for now and I'll explain everything'.

I hung my head in frustration. As physically intimidating as my father, the mighty King of Genia, was, he was as gentle as a mouse on the inside. I hated fighting with him.

'Fine,' I muttered. 'Lead the way'.

He gave a small nod. I let him propel me gently along with his hand at my back – out of the anteroom and down the corridor towards the ballroom.

We stopped outside the grand set of double doors that soared nearly two stories high.

My head was spinning again. The only reason we would be at the ballroom, fully suited, booted and crowned no less, was if we were meeting very important dignitaries or other royals.

Why had no one prepared me for this?

'Father,' I heard the panic lacing my voice. 'Please tell me why we're here. Who are we meeting? Why has no one told me anything?'

He squeezed my hand, and had just opened his mouth to respond when my mother interrupted him.

A sly grin had spread across her face. 'Today you will meet the man you are to marry,' she whispered conspiratorially.

Before I even had time to process this information, never mind respond, my mother gave the nod to the guards posted on either side of the entrance, and the doors to the ballroom were thrown open with a flourish.