of iron and crowns

CHAPTER THREE,

THREE | OF IRON AND CROWNS

"WE LEAVE TOMORROW," Gabriel told him, slowly stepping into the terrace where he'd been enjoying the view of the palace gardens. "Are you ready?"

"For the journey, or what comes after?"

"Both."

"I'm doing it for my country," Stephen said, straightening, "and Princess Irina isn't that bad of a choice for a bride."

"She's rather domineering," Gabriel reminded. "And she doesn't seem all that pleased with the prospect of marrying you, if I must be honest."

"No one likes being told who they have to marry. But she knows she has to do it, the same as me. It's our duty. We're born royal children, so this is the least we can do."

Gabriel let out a sigh, pushing his fingers through his head of dark brown hair, storm-grey eyes taking in the evening scenary. He was a general, a soldier, and it was clear in the way he walked, the way he stood, the way he spoke. "Being a royal really isn't the best life, is it?"

Stephen said, "I think the best life is to be born as a relative to the royal family. Not that close, but close enough you still get a title and plenty of riches and status. But with none of the responsibility."

"Unfortunately for you, you're the Crown Prince."

Stephen winced. "Unfortunately."

"And therefore you're stuck with a rather... unwilling bride, if I do say so myself." Gabriel winced. "Princess Irina doesn't want this at all."

"I'm afraid she doesn't have a choice. Even her bloody chambers are ready. Decorated to her fancy, which is the Saian fashion. It looks odd, in my opinion. Arecian architecture with Saian interior... It seems cheap."

"It's a poor imitation," Gabriel said, stone-faced. "I wouldn't be surprised if she asked for it to be completely renovated soon. Though she's probably bringing a lot of her own things over, so it shouldn't affect her too much."

"She's Irina Gu Longyu," Stephen reminded. "Known for her love of perfection. She's going to be spitting tacks."

"She's still a princess," Gabriel said. "That means she has been taught courtesy and manners, and she's going to be in a foreign court. She won't dare step too out of line. And beyond everything she's always been known to be polite and a diplomat. Not as much as Prince Ruge, but still fairly good at maintaining relationships. At least you're not getting a bride who doesn't speak Arecian or something along those lines. And, well, she's pleasant to the eye."

"She's beautiful," Stephen said flatly. "But beautiful does not make a good bride. I can't tell if we are going to rip us into pieces, or if she's going to tear us apart first. Either way it won't be pretty."

"I feel the need to stress, again," Gabriel sighed, "that she is a princess who is well-educated. And your father is not going to tell you to marry a girl who's going to tear his kingdom apart. And it's not as if you haven't already met her. She's a fine girl."

"Her right-hand woman, not so much?"

Gabriel bristled. "Don't know what she has against me."

"Not sure either," Stephen had to admit. "But then again you don't like her either, so you can't say much at all. She's coming, by the way."

"I assumed so. I'll just avoid her. Shouldn't be too difficult."

"It would be, if you're always next to me and she's always next to the princess. Try to curb your worst impulses."