The Contract
1435 Words
My father sat in a high-backed chair, intricately carved, behind a sturdy desk. Several scattered sheets of paper lay before him, and his door stood open, beckoning us to enter. The air was thick with the weight of what was about to be decided.
“King Byron,” Ryker acknowledged, his voice steady and formal.
“Ah, King Ryker,” my father replied, a smile gracing his lips. “Take a seat. Here is the final draft.” He slid a sheet of parchment towards us as we settled into the chairs across from him.
Ryker picked up the document, his brow furrowing in concentration as he read it over. After a moment, he handed it to me, his expression serious.
The title at the top read, “Contract of Marriage.” My heart began to race as I took in the words that outlined our future. Ryker Kristoph Bane, King of Ketican, Malar, and the Braxton Islands, was to marry me, Aloura Destiny Ashcroft, Princess and Heiress of the Amoridia Continent. The terms were laid bare, and the weight of them felt astronomical.
As I read, I couldn't shake the sense of disbelief. My mother’s dowry—a half million, plus properties—hovered before my eyes, dizzying me. My family had never possessed such wealth. This world, with its extravagant monetary figures, felt almost surreal.
“Is everyone satisfied?” my father inquired, his gaze shifting between us.
“If Aloura is, then I’m fine with the draft,” Ryker replied, leaning back with an air of decision.
His words jolted me from my reverie. “It’s a lot,” I said hesitantly. “The reduced trade will benefit the nations, surely, but what am I supposed to do with three properties if my husband resides in a different realm?”
“They were your mother’s,” my father reassured me. “Visit them as she did. The cost of upkeep is minimal, and you could sell them if you wished.” His brow knit slightly, as if my potential decision to part with my heritage troubled him.
“No, I couldn’t!” The thought of selling anything tied to my mother felt like tearing a part of myself away. “What if I want to keep them?”
“Then keep them, Aloura,” he said gently. “It is your choice.”
The conversation shifted toward signing the contract, and as I dipped my pen into the ink pot and scrawled my name, a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. King Ryker’s eyes met mine, revealing a flicker of relief at the conclusion of negotiations.
However, a sudden disruption broke the moment. “Husband!” A shrill voice, familiar and discomforting, sliced through the air. Drissel stood in the doorway, an irate expression twisting her features.
“Drissel,” my father greeted her, though his smile faltered in the face of her annoyance. “We’re merely finalizing the marriage contract.”
“I thought we had already drafted one,” she said, barging into the room and leaning over my shoulder to glance at the new document.
Her disdain for the changes was palpable as she pointed out the implications. I felt my face flush; the woman seemed to take issue with my very existence.
“Royal blooded females are forbidden to show their faces!” Drissel huffed, her voice climbing an octave. “This is blasphemy!”
“Wife,” my father’s tone narrowed, hinting at his rising irritation. “You never had to wear one because you were not a blooded royal. Aloura’s mother respected our laws, and now Aloura will have the same choice in Ryker’s lands. This decision is not yours to dictate.”
The tension in the room shifted as I sensed Ryker's discomfort. He bore a tight expression, likely mindful of Drissel's presence.
After my father affirmed the contract's finality, I hastily signed my name. The document was binding now, and there would be no renegotiation.
“Let’s hasten these nuptials, shall we?” Ryker's voice softened, his grip tightening on my hand. “I want to marry you before evening meal.” He seemed eager to claim our future, and I couldn’t help but feel swept along in the fervor of his determination.
Drissel gasped, disbelief flooding her features. She interjected hastily, “Married today? She hasn’t a dress or invitations. This is unacceptable!”
“Not your decision, Drissel,” Ryker replied, his words firm and unyielding. “King Byron and I have already agreed upon this.”
The tension crackled as her cheeks flushed a vibrant hue. I glanced between them, caught in an unexpected whirlwind of power dynamics, and saw the strain it placed on Ryker’s countenance.
“What of the maid?” Ryker inquired, redirecting the conversation, his eyes narrowing at Drissel. “Is she under your employ or Aloura’s?”
“Aloura’s,” my father replied. “Her mother is contracted as Amira’s and Aloura’s handmaid.”
“Good. We will take them both with us. Please have their contracts ready by the ceremony,” Ryker stated, almost as if it were an afterthought.
Drissel’s irritation simmered just below the surface, and I noticed a flicker of unease cross her features.
As we exited the chamber, I could feel Lacy wait for us in the corridor. We moved swiftly, putting distance between us and the tense atmosphere left in the wake of our making.
Ryker turned to me, his tone lowering. “I sense your stepmother's intentions aren’t genuine. Please don’t invite her to visit us adepart. I find her ways concerning.”
I couldn’t agree more. “No issue there; she gives me a strange feeling,” I replied, relieved to have his support.
Onward we walked until we reached a quiet lounge—a respite from the cacophony. I pulled Ryker and Lacy inside, noting the quietude and anonymity of the empty space around us.
“Girl,” Ryker addressed the maid, his voice softer now yet resolutely commanding. “You and your mother are in Aloura’s employ. Assist her in preparing for our departure tomorrow and pack up your own belongings.”
Lacy’s expression shifted, a flash of fear darting across her features. “Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly.
“What is it, Lacy?” I asked, seeking to ease her apprehension.
She hesitated, sealed her lips tight, and her eyes spoke volumes. I realized then that she was afraid of crossing Ryker, of displeasing him.
“Whatever it is, it's important to you Lacy. I'd prefer we addressed it now,” I said, wanting to ensure we were all on the same page. it couldn't be an easy thing being told to pack and leave.
"My," she started her eyes flicking from me to Ryker, "Mother, she's married. and my aunt is only granted to be here because of my mother's employment. Queen Amira settled the negotiations before marrying the king."
Lacy twisted her fingers together her nervousness palpable.
I looked at Ryker who nodded not seeming the least upset.
"Explains the loyalty," he muttered, "Aside from your self and your mother are the rest of you family in contract to the king or realm?"
"No, your Majesty," Lacy replied hesitantly.
"That's a boon,what do they do for employment," He asked his voice calm.
"My fathers a metal Smith, armor, horseshoes, weapons and such though he also makes dishes and other things, the army here isn't as big so he expanded for the income. My aunt is a healer, her oldest daughter as well. My Uncle works as a leather smith and my brother and younger cousin apprentice under my dad and uncle." She answered.
"Good, Tell your family they can choose to be employed by me, or my wife and I, or just my wife if they're concerned. But we will offer them an employment that includes a house each with three bedrooms, an additional workshop and three store fronts, all work done for the kings army is at cost plus five percent. Any work outside of that can be whatever cost they wish to price it. Taxes on revenue in my kingdom is three percent on earned minus cost. Income from the kings army purchase is excluded from tax." Ryker laid out his offer.
Lacy looked up at him her mouth opening and closing like a fish.
"Yes, your Majesty," she finally stammered.
"Good, go tell who needs to be told, and get things packed. Please meet my wife in two hours to prepare her for the ceremony."
- Writer
