Signed, Sealed, Delivered

Chapter 3

The waltz was slow and romantic, chosen especially for the ‘happy couple’s’ first dance I assumed. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and let Prince Tristan twirl me about the ballroom, quite happy to dance in silence.

I noticed with relief that other couples had now joined us on the floor and were dancing all around us. I felt slightly more comfortable knowing the attention wasn’t solely on us any more.

Now that I was so close to him, I couldn’t help but sneak glances at Prince Tristan when he wasn’t looking. He had an angular, handsome face with high cheekbones and an elegantly sloped nose. His black hair was long and fell in loose curls to his shoulders, though I could see that some of it had been tied up at the back of his head. His pale skin stood out in stark contrast, and made the deep blue of his eyes even more striking.

I realised as we danced that he was much taller than me, surely a few inches over six feet tall, as the top of my head only came up to his chin. I wondered if we were the same age.

His eyes, which had been casually surveying the room over the top of my head, suddenly snapped to meet mine. I’d been caught looking.

Damn.

Of course, he was a very handsome man, that much I could not deny. However, that did nothing to sway my view on whether I wanted to marry him.

‘See something you like?’ he asked, an edge of something I couldn’t quite place in his voice.

I rolled my eyes. ‘Don’t get too cocky, I'm only here because I was made to come. Seems in all the excitement no one remembered to tell me I was getting engaged this evening.’

‘You seem to be labouring under the assumption that you are the only unwilling participant in this situation. I am playing the part I have been given, just as you are.’ He laughed, but it lacked mirth.

I didn’t have much to say to that. He, like me, no doubt felt he had to uphold his family’s reputation and take the news of our engagement with grace and dignity. For him, the pressure was likely tenfold, as it always had been for Caleb, as he was next in line to the throne.

‘Why did you agree to it then?’ I asked quietly. I supposed I already knew the answer but I wanted to hear what he would say.

His expression grew clouded for a moment, but he recovered quickly with an easy grin. ‘I didn’t. But my dear old mother has been hounding me to settle down for years. She is of the belief that my… romantic history isn’t very becoming of a prince.’

I rolled my eyes. I suppose it had been optimistic to expect a serious answer. ‘I’m sure you’re very popular with the ladies of Virgam,’ I conceded sarcastically.

‘I’ll take that as a compliment. Speaking of which, fancy taking this party somewhere a little more private?’ The hand that had been resting on my waist snaked around to the small of my back, pulling me so close that our bodies were now touching.

I used the hand he wasn’t holding to shove his chest, lightly enough that others wouldn’t notice but enough for him to get the message. His hold on me remained firm, but he did take a step slightly to his credit.

‘Prince Tristan—’

‘Why so formal, future wife? Just Tristan will suffice.’

I felt heat rise in my cheeks. He certainly wasn’t afraid to push his luck. ‘Well, unfortunately for you, Just Tristan, I’ll have to turn down your generous offer on this occasion. And as for your ‘future wife’ comment, no one has agreed to marry you yet!’

Tristan inclined his head in the direction of our parents. ‘I don’t think they’re going to accept no for an answer, but if it makes you feel better…’ He trailed off with a smirk.

Mercifully, I was saved from having to conjure up a clever response as the waltz drew to a close, and all of the dancing couples began to separate.

I tried to follow suit, but Tristan’s arm tightened around my waist. He pulled me close to him, so close that I could feel his breath tickling my cheeks. There was no escape from his intense gaze at this distance.

‘Running off so soon?’ he purred.

‘I have other business to attend to,’ I replied curtly. He needn’t have thought I would melt under his touch the way I’m sure many of his past conquests had.

‘Well it was lovely to finally meet you, future wife. You know where to find me if you get bored of the festivities,’ he quipped with a wink, releasing his hold on me.

Deciding to once again ignore his comment, I curtsied politely. ‘Prince Tristan.’

Instead of bowing, as was customary, he imitated my curtsy. ‘Princess Genevieve.’

A few guests milling around nearby giggled at the display. If I hadn’t already thought he was making fun of me, I definitely did now.

It wasn’t my most mature moment, but I wasn’t about to let him have the last laugh. As I walked by him, I used the cover of my massive skirts to stand on his foot.

I couldn’t help the little smile that crossed my face as I heard a faint yelp from behind me. That would teach him.

I crossed the ballroom, back to where my parents were socialising with a group of nobles. I hadn’t technically been lying when I said I had other business to attend to.

‘Mother, can I borrow you for a moment?’ I hissed through a tight smile, which I’d plastered on my face for the benefit of anyone looking at us.

‘Certainly, Genevieve. Please excuse me,’ Mother said sweetly to the small crowd around her.

She followed me to a corner tucked away behind the staircase, where we were less likely to be overheard. Seconds later, we were joined by my father, who still looked rather sheepish about the whole affair.

‘You cannot seriously wish for me to marry him!’ I all but exploded, while trying to keep a hushed tone. ‘He’s so— he’s so—!’

I looked back and forth between them, searching for answers. My father wouldn't meet my eyes.

‘He’s very handsome,’ was all my mother had to contribute.

‘How could you arrange all of this without telling me? Did you not even consider warning me that you were planning to sell me off to some womanising prince from the South?’ The rage, frustration and hurt I’d been pushing down all evening was beginning to bubble to the surface. I truly didn’t want to cause a scene, but I’d never felt as blindsided in my life.

‘Genevieve,’ my father coaxed gently. ‘No one is trying to sell you off. Please try to understand—’

‘That’s enough, Roald,’ Mother snapped, before rounding on me. ‘As for you, I will have you know that we raised you better than to speak in such an insolent tone. If I'd had my way, you'd have been wed when you turned eighteen. Be thankful for the two extra years of leniency you were granted. You would do well to remember that that is more than your brother ever got.’

The force of her words physically knocked me back a step. I felt tears stinging my eyes but I swallowed them back.

I looked to my father for support. He also appeared to be rendered speechless.

My gaze flickered back to my mother. I could tell by the set of her mouth that she was not finished with her verbal onslaught.

‘It should not concern you as to why this marriage arrangement has been made. That is a matter for us to worry about. It is your royal duty to protect the interests of this kingdom by forging strong alliances and you will do so by marrying Prince Tristan. Your brother has dedicated his life to his role as further ruler of this kingdom. Marrying into a powerful family is the least you can do, and I will hear no more on the subject.’

The tears that had threatened to spill over now fell silently down my cheeks. My mother and I had not seen eye to eye on many things over the years, and while I imagined her idea of maternal love was much more abrasive than the norm, it was rare that she would be so unabashedly harsh.

‘Melinda,’ said my father sharply, an unmistakeable edge in his voice. ‘This has been a difficult evening for Genevieve. We will discuss this further in the morning when you have calmed down and she has had a chance to process the events of tonight.’ He didn’t say anything else, but the pointed look he gave both of us added an unspoken ‘and that’s final’ to his words.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, and turned away. Keeping my head down, I picked up my skirts and all but ran up the staircase, hurrying along the upper balcony to a set of glass doors which led out onto the terrace.

The doors had been opened to allow some fresh air to circulate through the stuffy ballroom. The light, gauzy curtains on either side undulated delicately with the breeze.

I took a seat on one of the two stone benches on this section of the terrace, pulling my legs up onto the seat beside me as best I could, in spite of my voluminous dress.

Tears trickled down my cheeks as I stared up at the moon, wishing I could be anywhere else in the world but Genia.

There had always been a distant worry in the back of my mind that, due to the nature of my position of younger sibling and Princess, marrying for love just might not be in the cards for me. But it had always been a far away, intangible thing — a bridge to cross if I came to it.

And now, suddenly, it had become my reality.

Of course, my rational mind said there was a logical, and likely political, reason why this specific marriage arrangement had been made. And while that might have gone a ways to explain why my mother, and particularly my father, had entered into this agreement, it didn’t do much to make me feel any better.

I heaved a tearful sigh, and let my head fall into my hands. What a mess.

I didn’t think I had ever felt as lonely in my life. Betrothed to a man I didn’t know, missing my brother, feeling betrayed by my parents — it all felt like a physical weight pressing down on my shoulders.

‘Genevieve?’

The voice broke me out of my reverie. I looked back and immediately recognised my father’s large frame silhouetted in the doorway.

I turned my face back to the moon wordlessly. He crossed the patio and sat down beside me, taking my hand in his. Just feeling the warmth of him beside me was comforting, even though I’d never felt so far away from him despite his physical closeness.

We sat in silence for a long time, both of us looking up at the night sky. I wondered what he was thinking about.

Eventually, he spoke.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I know,’ I replied, wiping the last of my tears away with the back of my hand. ‘I am too.’

‘I know he might not be your first choice, but you should give Prince Tristan a chance. He came to speak to me in the ballroom after you took your leave, and he seems a fine young man.’

Of course my father would think that. I highly doubted Tristan would’ve tried to solicit him to ‘go somewhere more private’. He had likely been the picture of a perfect gentleman.

I didn’t respond, and instead let my head fall onto his shoulder. The familiar, comforting scent of him wrapped around me like a warm blanket.

‘Everything will work itself out, Genevieve. But I am sorry it has come to this.’

I wanted to ask how we had ended up here. I wanted to know the reason my parents had arranged for me to marry Tristan. I had so many questions, but now didn’t feel like the right time to ask them. I had the feeling my father was holding something back, something that he wasn’t going to tell me no matter how many times I asked.

I sighed. ‘Do we have to go back?’

Father chuckled, and rose to his feet. ‘Yes, I suppose we should. Are you ready or do you need a moment?’

I stood up and straightened my skirts with some conviction. It was too late to turn back now. ‘I’m ready,’ I stated, hoping I sounded braver than I felt.

My father took my arm and led me back to the ballroom, where we blended back into the crowd as if we’d never left.

The rest of the evening passed without incident. We moved around the room, with my parents doing most of the talking. I nodded and smiled and held my hand out to be kissed as was required. I accepted congratulations graciously and danced with those who asked to be danced with.

Not one word was spoken between my mother and I, which came as something of a relief. I didn’t think I could handle a repeat of earlier.

Tristan asked for my final dance, with the gracious suggestion that I might like to watch where I put my feet so as not to trample him.

The dance was more upbeat than the first, which made talking all but impossible. This suited me just fine. However, as the music wound down and the dancing couples broke apart for the final time, I knew I wouldn’t be able to escape without engaging in some polite small talk.

‘Where will you be staying while you’re here?’ I enquired.

‘We have quarters in the east wing. Not sure I’ll be able to find my way back to be honest with you; this place is like a maze.’ His eyes glinted. ‘Maybe you could show me—’

‘I’ll have a butler show you to your rooms,’ I interrupted, already searching for an available attendant to flag down.

‘Suit yourself, Princess,’ he drawled in response, clearly unbothered either way. ‘I’ll be seeing you tomorrow for more wedding festivities, I’m sure.’

I almost groaned out loud. I’d been so focused on getting through this evening that I hadn’t even considered what else would be in store for me in the coming days and weeks.

‘I’m sure you’re counting down the minutes,’ I retorted, as the butler whose attention I had gained scurried over. ‘Would you kindly escort Prince Tristan and his mother to their rooms?’

‘Right this way, your Highness,’ the butler instructed immediately, gesturing past Tristan towards the doorway, where other guests had also begun to make their way out.

‘Goodnight Tristan,’ I said by way of a farewell. Even to my own ears, I sounded exhausted.

He turned to leave, but not before flashing me one last lazy grin.

‘Goodnight Genevieve.’