25: Marry Me
1199 Words
Eve.
When things don’t happen the way they should, there’s always a Plan B. And my Plan B was seated across from me, sipping tea and eating cookies.
“I won’t be spending my next ten minutes with you in silence,” Percy muttered, checking his wristwatch.
“What’s the hurry?” I arched a brow, slurping my tea.
It was true that the EC had approved us. But the engagement proposal had been a talk between dad and Percy’s parents. They influenced the EC’s decision. Flavian just like everyone else believed we were already engaged because of the rumors, but Percy and I knew we were just meeting for the first time since our parents forced the alliance behind our backs. Now it was time to confront Percy to be sure we were on the same page. Since Father wanted to remarry, what came next was Frederick being chosen to replace me… except they used the rule that children born outside wedlock cannot be chosen as heir.
Frederick and Eric were illegitimate, but so was I, yet I was chosen as heir.
The saucer clattered when I finally set the teacup down to face Percy, the runaway prince. He thought no one had noticed his absence around here. He thought no one noticed he was fooling around with someone anonymous.
“So, you look well. What’s your routine like these days? Hm?” I raised my brows, crossing my forearms. “Or let me guess… Arseny?”
I thought he would show even the slightest reaction, but his expression remained unreadable, void of any emotion.
“Very sure I saw two men kissing in a car.”
“Any evidence?”
Shit. My eyes twitched and so did the perfect smile on my lips.
That night had been pouring, and I was just coming out of a restaurant. It was only a glimpse, but a few seconds was all it took to register the two men, my step-cousin, my arch-nemesis, kissing so passionately. A cold betrayal served in the dark.
I didn’t have any grudge against Percy, but every time I remembered that stormy night, I wished I had gotten a picture. At least not to confront him or blackmail him… not him at least. My target was Arseny and would always be Arseny.
Percy was on his feet the second he checked the time. “Tea was lovely. But I fear I’ve warmed your chair enough,” he remarked, making for the door.
“Does Mommy and Daddy know you’re in love with a ‘man’?”
He halted at once behind me. My words must have hit the spot. I slurped my tea quietly as he retraced his steps and sat right in front of me again, robotically.
“Let’s get something straight. I don’t love him,” he retorted, louring me.
“A germaphobic freak like you, ravishing a mouth full of saliva? My goodness! What happened to the doctor constantly preaching about hepatitis B?” I remarked sarcastically, giggling.
Now I saw a visible change in his expression, a blush. Was he blushing just now, or were his ears having an allergic reaction? The cookies had peanuts in them, though.
“I. Don’t. Love. Him. He’s just a—”
“A f**k buddy?”
“An acquaintance,” he countered.
I cleared my throat, rolling my eyes in an attempt to sustain a neutral look. A few seconds later, I burst out laughing.
“Call it whatever you will… an affair is an affair.”
I didn’t like Percy being with that mentally unstable devil, but I hadn’t really seen Percy give two shits about anyone...yet that bastard… He could have just walked off nonchalantly like he always did, but something had triggered him hard enough to return and prove a point. The Percy I knew didn’t prove points, he proved nothing.
I didn’t understand the dynamics of that relationship, but I understood one thing, they could serve a purpose for me. Everything has a reason or a purpose… so did their affair. I would not interfere, I would help their situation.
“What do you say we have a lavender-style marriage, hm?”
“What?” His forehead creased into fine lines.
Percy was a handsome man. He had the looks of those ethereal angel sculptures my mother was fond of crafting. So this was what Arseny saw _an angel_ every time he looked into those green eyes? No wonder. Even the way Percy spoke had always left me with a familiar feeling of security.
“Don’t ‘what’ me. I’m serious. Look, my father is set on marrying my aunt and the EC has approved it after receiving the email. You have one too, don’t you?”
“An email? I didn’t receive any.”
“Don’t you have a mailbox in front of your yard? Otherwise you must have received it by hand.”
“I don’t check my box. But he does.”
By he… As in Arseny? And it just kept getting more interesting.
“You might not be in love, but he’s now a lost course of the said word.” I chuckled softly.
He didn’t respond to that. I poured more hot tea for the two of us since I had finished the cookies I brought.
“f**k… He won’t like this.”
He cursed after a long, stretched awkward silence. This must be the first time I had heard him curse with that much emotion.
“Are we doing this or not?” I asked, pursing my lips.
There was a limit to my patience… but he didn’t know enough of me to know that. I took out my stopwatch, counting down from seconds to minutes. His face had gone stiff again, deep in thought.
“Fine. Let’s get married,” he came alive again after the five-minute lag. “But on one condition.”
“No children.”
“Agreed.”
Finally, I had the chance to present him with the rings I had gotten us a few days ago. I took out my own ring and passed him the box.
“You’ve been planning this for a while.”
“If you’re curious as to how I got your ring size, I only had to ask your mother.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose after checking the ring and seeing that it was indeed his size. A smirk followed shortly after.
Not long later, I escorted him out, only to spot Flavian’s car pulling in. Percy didn’t show any interest in staying to exchange pleasantries. He simply gave me a once-over look of suspicion before heading into his car and driving out of my yard at the same time Flavian was hopping out of his.
“Why was my nephew leaving your house?”
“Check the CCTV tapes and recorders. I’m sure you’ll find your answer.” I showed him a f**k-you finger using my engagement ring finger.
I made my way back inside with him trailing behind me, carrying a bouquet of flowers and a box. If those weren’t fresh flowers, there would be a bullet in his head.
- Writer
