Young Writers Society

Welcome back! Sorry it took me so long to get this bit on! It's rated PG-13 'cause... Prince Kharles is dumb. More or less. Just watch out.

Another vase shattered, the ear-splitting noise accompanied by a furious shriek. “You were betrothed?”

“Not precisely,” the prince grumbled, and this through clenched teeth. “She thought we would marry someday, but dear, ‘twas only an infatuation. It’s you I want, Eloise, only you.”

“I’m sure you told her that at some point, too,” Eloise growled. “In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if you did. I don’t want to meet her.”

“I know, El, but I had to invite her over. We can’t have the child running around shouting about how I so cruelly led her on. We’ll even things out a bit – perhaps I can set her up with someone… Raymond Leek, now that wouldn’t be a bad match.”

My fists clenched, ear pressed to the door. I was a child, yes, now that he no longer wished me to be a woman.

“Milady, please let me announce you—”

“Quiet! I already told you, I’m not going in there yet,” I whispered, shooting a frosty glare at the small, balding servant. He frowned, sitting down on a bench in this, the entrance chamber of the prince’s rooms. I knew I shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but I also wasn’t planning to go in there if I was so obviously unwanted. I needed to know more about Eloise. I pressed my ear against the door again, thanking the heavens that it wasn’t a thick one.

“Now, if we did manage a betrothal ‘twixt them, she could settle down, with relative comfort and wealth. Besides, even a slight little thing like that one might be able to bear a healthy child – I just hope Raymond won’t mind this arrangement,” the prince was saying, and I wasn’t certain Eloise still occupied the room. I forced myself not to lose my temper at the way he was trying to tuck me away somewhere I couldn’t do him any harm, knowing that self-control was my greatest asset.

“Kharles, you really are very clever,” Eloise giggled, and I found it hard to believe she’d gotten over her anger so soon.

“I know, dear.”

There was silence after that, and I recoiled from the door, thinking of my prince and Eloise embracing beyond it.

“Now, Miss, if I can just introduce—” began the doorman.

“You may.” I had no idea what had led me to actually think I could control myself, when I came face-to-face with Prince Kharles. I’d be quite fortunate if I did not get executed for attacking him.

The doorman hopped off his bench and knocked smartly on the door. I thought I heard the sound of scuffling, like someone had just fallen off a couch and was now trying to right him or herself, and then, “Yes, who is it?” barked the unmistakable voice of the prince.

“Her ladyship, Miss Mariadelle Tadstreet.”

The door swung open, and I glided in, gazing at the scene before me with an expression of vague amusement. Pieces of at least two expensive porcelain vases were strewn across rugs and stone alike, and both the prince and his bride were looking decidedly ruffled.

“I am surprised to find you hiding away in your chambers, Your Highness. Don’t weddings traditionally have several days of feasting after them? Or were you too frightened of what I might do, if given so many chances to reveal your scandal?” I drawled. The door shut quietly behind me before the prince dared reply.

“Princess Eloise is rather averse to loud, crowded places. There was a banquet, but we left before it got out of hand,” Kharles said, stepping around the couch. He strode confidently up, snatched my hand, and leant down to kiss it – I pulled away before he had the chance.

“Don’t touch me,” I snapped, taking a step back and dropping all pretense of calm disinterest. “I came only because I was ordered to, Your Highness. I would go, now, if it’s to the prince’s wishes.”

“It is not,” he said, and I could hear the anger in his voice.

“What about your princess? You both seemed to be very… occupied, before I arrived.” Behind him, Eloise blushed furiously, ducking her golden-haired head. I smiled in satisfaction, watching the heat rise also to the prince’s cheeks.

“That can wait. You can’t, and I don’t believe you will,” he said.

“You are correct, for once. We were betrothed, you told me so yourself. What’s a promise, if even royalty breaks it?” I knew I’d hit him in the right place, there. If everyone knew the things he’d promised me, the times he’d danced and talked with me away from the public’s eyes, there would be trouble in the kingdom.

“It wasn’t, strictly speaking, a promise. I was a hotheaded youth, and men such as I make empty promises all the time.” He reached out to brush a strand of ‘cocoa’ hair from my eyes, but I took another step back, eyes narrowed.

“You aren’t just any ‘hotheaded youth,’ Your Highness, and I’m the daughter of the most powerful nobleman in Ape’erafer. This won’t go unnoticed, if it slips out.”

“Eloise, leave us,” he ordered, not even turning to look at her.

“But I—”

“Eloise,” he said, and she caught the warning in his voice. With the small amount of dignity she had left, ‘Princess’ Eloise scrambled through a door to my left, slamming it behind her.

“What do you want, then?” His voice was soft, now, the way I always remembered it. He moved closer, and I walked slowly backwards until I was pressed against the door. The prince smiled, but it wasn’t a sweet smile – it was a proud, evil smile, and one I wasn’t familiar with at all. In one more stride, he was standing, looking down at me, our bodies so close together that I could feel the heat off his skin.

“I want you,” I choked out, blinking back tears.

“That… could be arranged,” he murmured. His face grew closer, ever closer, and then he was kissing me, much too passionately for someone who was married. Married, I thought, and struggled beneath his weight, as he held me against the door. I knew that, whatever else, I would never assist a man in being unfaithful to his wife… and yet, the part of me that was still in love with him relished his warm lips, and fought against the gentlewoman who was so repulsed by the prince.

Knock-knock, knock-knock. “Your Highness?” It was Raymond.

Prince Kharles jumped back, pulling me with him. I wrenched myself away, and the only emotion I could feel was cold, icy fury. “Come in,” I gasped, edging closer to the door and further from the prince.

“Your Highness, I was wondering if—” Raymond stopped in mid-sentence, staring at me. I knew I looked dreadful, for I could feel tears streaming down my face, my hair falling away from its loose bun. My dress was rumpled, and my cheeks hot and red; I was, from the expression on his face, a mess.

“Good gods, Mari, what happened?”

With a whimper of relief and sorrow, I fled to Raymond, throwing my arms around his middle and sobbing into his tunic. The words I attempted to speak were incoherent jumbles, and even his hand, gently rubbing my back, did little to comfort me.

“I heard you were boring and arrogant,” purred a familiar voice, “but I hadn’t any proof it was this bad.”

The navy-coated man was back.

“Duke Warrington! I do not recall inviting you to the wedding,” said the prince, and somehow, there was fear in his haughty words.

“Yes, well, I’ve never found being invited as very exciting, wouldn’t you say? But I was curious, so I came as some rather vague baron of here or there, and was taking a pleasant stroll through the castle when I found this strange girl trying to kill herself.” His voice held humor, but as my sobs grew quieter, I had a feeling he wasn’t very amused at all.

“Kill herself?” Kharles echoed.

“Yes. She was just about to toss herself down a full spiral staircase when I turned the corner.”

Raymond tensed beneath me, and I abruptly stopped crying to face the duke. I’m not surprised he is one, I thought, glowering at him. “Your Excellency, I simply wasn’t looking where I was going. I will assure you all that I did not want to end my life.”

“No matter. You weren’t looking where you were going because you were weeping, and you were weeping because of this bastard before us.”

The room went silent at this insult, as if all were seeing who could hold his – or, I added, her – breath longer. I shivered once, taking a step back from Raymond, but he drew me to him again, as though afraid I might be harmed otherwise.

“Khari!” cried Eloise, shoving the door open and rushing to the prince’s side. “How dare you call him – call him… th-that! He wasn’t unkind to Miss Tadstreet, he just didn’t want to marry her!”

Prince Kharles did not seem in the least pleased that his new bride had made a second appearance, and inched slightly back from her as she clutched his forearm.

“Didn’t want to marry me?” I said, disbelief in my voice. What had Kharles told Eloise, other than lies? “El—Your Highness, I will assure you right now that he wanted to marry me. Perhaps only because the treasury is somewhat bereft of gold and my father quite rich,” I added, glaring pointedly at Kharles, “but then, don’t we all make mistakes sometimes?” I tried to detach myself from Raymond, but before I could take so much as a step away, he caught me by the wrist.

“This is no place for a lady,” he announced, and began pulling me towards the door. “Come, Miss Tadstreet, I am sure you are sorely missed at the banquet.”

“Release me! I shall stay here until every ounce of truth is out before us! I shan’t let His Highness tell lies to Princess Eloise, I shan’t!” But he was stronger, much stronger, and only hesitated the slightest moment before continuing to half-lead, half-drag me from the room.

“Wait,” the duke said softly, putting a hand on Raymond’s broad shoulder. “I would like some truth myself, if you don’t mind, Master Leek.”

Raymond hesitated again, but this time, he allowed me to break free of his tight grasp. I kept close beside him, for if I hadn’t, I would have gotten either closer to Kharles, or Duke Warrington, and that I did not wish to do.

“I think,” I began, trying not to hate Eloise simply for what she signified, “you’ve heard most of it – the truth, that is. He” – here I scowled in Prince Kharles’s general direction – “lied, left me for a prettier face. Does it not worry you, Your Highness, that he might someday leave you for a younger, more beautiful lady?”

Eloise was silent, face screwed up as though she simply couldn’t grasp the thought of someone more dazzling than she.

“Mariadelle, I already told you, it wasn’t exactly a lie—”

“But wasn’t it?” Duke Warrington cut in, smiling in a secretive sort of way. “The only problem is, he’s the prince, and if he chooses to tell the whole kingdom that dear little Miss Tadstreet is a liar and a fool, they will more than likely believe His Highness over a – a child.”

I trembled, more in frustration than sadness or fear. “If ‘tis quite all right with you, Your Excellency, I have no wish to pursue the matter. And, if all you adults don’t mind, this child must go find her mother. Fare ye well,” I said, but glowered one last time at the prince before turning away.

I did not look back as I exited His Highness’s chambers, nor did I feel remorse of any kind as I glided calmly to, and then through the long entrance hall. If I still felt in love with Kharles, the rest of my heart and mind jeered at that very small part that did. I was ashamed at the thought that perhaps, I’d only loved him for his charming smiles, his silly, childish jests and cool green eyes.

I leant against one of the many thick white marble pillars lining the hall, feeling little lighter than when I’d arrived. Yet there’s still something about him, I thought sadly, something unique; that something that made me want to marry him in the first place. And what was that? I had no answer. What had it been, and what was it now, that still made me feel rather jittery inside whenever he smiled, whenever I remembered, even for the most fleeting second, that horrific kiss?

I had no further time to contemplate this, for just at that moment, a brown-and-cream blur came hurtling towards me, giggling and squealing happily. “Delle,” it nearly screamed, “he proposed!”

“Chelsea, where—what?” I spluttered.

“He proposed at the banquet! Oh, it was so romantic! And we’ll be married in the spring – isn’t it wonderful, Delle?”

I smiled in a distracted sort of way, knowing it would look rather feeble and feeling wrong for not being happier. “Wonderful, Sea, that’s lovely!”

“The carriage is here! Come, I’ll tell you on the journey home,” Chelsea said, regaining some of her composure. I followed her out of the gleaming marble entrance hall, and towards our small black carriage.

“Now, listen.” Chelsea’s voice diminished to a conspiratorial whisper as we reached the coach, but it still quivered with some of her former excitement. “There I was, standing with Dorothy and Edgar – they’ve been betrothed forever, you know – and talking quite politely to them – you remember how angry I was with Dorothy, when she said Jarald was ugly – when suddenly, who should come strolling up?”

“I don’t know, Sea, who?” I prompted, faking curiosity for her sake.

“Jarald Matheson!” She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the carriage, bouncing up and down in her seat. “He asked me if I would go outside with him, to this little secluded balcony, and of course I said, ‘Yes’ – but in that disinterested voice you taught me,” Chelsea added, nodding furtively at me.

“And then?” My heart pounded strangely in my chest, but not because Chelsea was just telling me how he’d gotten down on one knee, out on that romantic balcony, but because there was a man striding towards us, whom I could just see through the half-opened door.

“I was so excited, Delle! There he was, with that beautiful ring held out to me, and that smile I love so much on his face! Oh, you have no idea how—”

“Shh!” I hissed, as the man drew ever closer. “One moment, Sea, I believe someone’s coming.”

“Is it Mother? I can’t wait to tell her,” breathed Chelsea.

“No, no, it’s not Mother. It’s…” I grew quiet as he drew up beside the carriage, pulling the door open so he could see inside. He looked up, first at Chelsea, and the slightest frown flitted across his face, as if he’d been looking for something and she wasn’t it – and then he turned his eyes towards me, and the expression changed to one of triumph.

“Miss Tadstreet, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Could I have a private word?” He proffered a hand to assist my descent from the coach, and I took it, shooting a look at Chelsea that I hope she knew meant, Stay here.

“Your Excellency, where are we going? I haven’t all day to wander about the castle,” I said, contesting his bright smile with a cold, indifferent smirk of my own.

“Just inside – I only wish to ask a question.” We wove our way through parked and moving coaches, back up the steps and into the entrance hall. He led me to a quiet corner, and I found myself pressed against the marble wall. It didn’t improve my mood one bit that he was standing so close.

“If this is your idea of a joke, Your Excellency, I cannot say I care for it.” I glared up at him, which was proving exceedingly hard, considering we were less than a hand’s breadth apart.

“No, not a joke, milady. I – ah, was but wondering something,” he murmured, and I began to hope something poisonous and deadly would bite him, so I could escape. “Something about… betrothals.”

“Yes, and what were you wondering, milord?” I asked, trying to snuff out my sudden curiosity.

“Well, you see, considering recent happenings – that is to say, the prince’s wedding, and keeping in mind the fact you no longer have a, how shall we say it, fiancé, I was thinking to request something.”

“If you beat around the bush much longer, milord, it may just beat back,” I warned, the slightest smile catching at my lips.

“I am, as you well know, Duke Warrington of Jharrim, and I do not often fail to get what I want,” he said, and I knew he wasn’t jesting. “I have come to ask your hand in marriage.”

He said it as though he were flustered, but one glance at his face and I was persuaded of the opposite; there was a lazy smile on his face, and he exuded confidence and elegance I did not pretend to have.

“Marriage?” I whispered, with nothing but surprise. “You, King Orendell’s brother, Duke of Jharrim, marry me?”

“Why, mademoiselle, are you so surprised? Your father was most enthusiastic – it could prevent the war! Not that I wouldn’t be slightly disappointed at that, but you, I’m sure, could distract me from my woeful emotions.”

I wanted to be happy, or grateful, but something, something was there, that I couldn’t explain, couldn’t excuse. Perhaps ‘twas the greed in his eyes, or the way he asked, as if he knew that no matter what I said, he would get his way.

“Thank you, milord, for you boundlessly generous offer, but I’ve never liked foreigners much,” I said, and yet I knew his response before it ever showed on his face, before the words ever formed in his mind.

He laughed.

“My dear girl, did it ever occur to you that this might have already been decided? That, perchance, I did not need your consent?” he asked. “This morning, I was speaking with your father and King Manfred. Not one of us really wanted war, and so dear Count Tadstreet came up with the joyful idea of marriage. Naturally, King Orendell is already wedded to Queen Isis, so the closest honor, the closest bond to marrying the king became… me.”

I bit back a sharp retort, reminding myself I was a woman, and he a man. If Father had decided to marry me off, the only thing to stop him would be my death.

“Milord knows I cannot escape this, and he enjoys the idea, does he not?” I queried, and my voice was a mere breath upon the quiet air.

“Yes,” he said, deep brown eyes twinkling in a beam of afternoon sun. I looked silently up at his dark complexion, his coal-colored hair – a foreigner, through and through.

“Your Excellency, my coach and sister await me, and I would go, if it’s quite the same to you,” I said, after I managed to regain the power of speech.

“It is, Miss Tadstreet.” But he didn’t move. I began to edge sideways, still pressed against the wall. “But I’d like to ask one more question before you go.”

“A perfectly innocent one,” I said, inching away from him with painstaking slowness. “No doubt.”

He caught my forearm, and I looked down at the strange contrast – my skin, normally so much darker than that of others, looked pale in contrast with his. “I wouldn’t be so hasty, milady. All too soon, there will be no escaping me.” His smile was no longer so innocent.

“I think, Your Excellency, that I will refrain from dreading that day until I am looking it right in the eye.” It took all my self-control not to yank my arm from his grasp. “You said you had a question,” I reminded him.

“Ah, yes, the question. Well, that can wait. For now, I would like you wear this.” He pulled something out of his coat pocket, and, lifting up one my hand, slipped it onto one finger. “Just to make sure you remember.”

I stood, making certain I didn’t look at what it was – although I’d already guessed, I was determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing any expression that might cross my face.

“Thank you, Your Excellency. We will see each other soon, then?” The question was voiced with nothing more than polite interest. In my mind, I was begging him to say, No. Not ever.

He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it, but his eyes stayed on my face. “Yes, milady. Quite soon.”

I didn’t look back as I fled the hall.

I know it's long, but this was the best way to end it. Less nitpicking, more advice, yes? ^_^