Wedding Woes

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The weeks following Alaric’s coronation and Wesley’s installment as Calira’s personal bodyguard were filled with talks of the wedding. Alaric was hell-bent on rushing the wedding to make sure his father could be present. Calira had all but given up on all wedding decisions and let Alaric have his way.

“A couple of months ago, my son didn’t want to be married. Now he’s planning the biggest wedding of the century,” Triscan chuckled as Calira rolled her eyes. Calira sat in a high back chair next to the ailing King’s bed and easily busied her hands by sharpening her daggers.

“And you have taken to the Princess role quite easily, I see,” Triscan remarked as he studied Calira. She was dressed in a beautiful green gown that had white lace around the rounded décolletage. Wesley stood by the door, stoic and quiet as always. He wore a coat and breeches that were a similar color to Calira’s gown with a white shirt.

“And Wesley, you fit in well!” He continued to note as Wesley nodded and smiled at him.

“Thank you, you’re majesty,” Wesley replied as he bowed his head in respect. A trembling hand on her arm earned Calira’s complete attention as she looked up and met Triscan’s adoring expression.  She tilted her head to the side.

“What is it, your grace?” She asked. Wesley stood straight.

“Seeing you in your rightful place brings me great joy, my dear,” Triscan remarked as Calira averted her eyes.

“I do not feel like a princess. I feel more like a caged animal at a traveling show,” she admitted quietly. Wesley frowned.  Triscan sighed as he patted her arm with his weathered hand.

“I did whatever I could to keep you safe. I realize that this entire escapade has been quite overwhelming for you, but you’ve overcome so much worse than this. I know you will make a fine queen and my son will be a better king and man because of you,”  Triscan explained as Calira nodded her head in understanding.

“Have you picked your ladies-in-waiting?” Triscan asked with a soft smile as he thought of wonderful court-ladies that would make excellent companions for his dearest daughter-in-law.

“Have I? No. Has Alaric? Yes. Wesley?” Calira turned to her bodyguard; Wesley looked up and stood straight.

“Who did Alaric choose for my ladies again?” She questioned as she returned her attention to the daggers in her lap. Wesley chuckled before he recited the list. 

“Marchioness Lydia Timmons, Duchess Alana Hastings,  Baroness Caroline Romanski,  Archduchess Marie Foray, and Countess Veronique Dubare.”   Triscan’s eyes widened with each name Wesley spoke.

“Do not forget the bratty one, Wesley. What was her name? Bernadette?”

“Oh, yes, Vicereine Bernadette Casings,” Wesley amended as Calira nodded at the name. Each woman hated Calira simply for breathing.

“Even I know they are my son’s mistresses!” Triscan remarked suddenly as Wesley and Calira nodded.

“Yes. A fact each and every one of them has plainly and with great detail explained to me on several occasions. They all believe my marriage to Alaric is one of convenience and they will all continue to be his mistresses,” Calira replied as Wesley nodded his head in agreement. He had heard them. Valerius had also reaffirmed their statements.

“Have you spoken with Alaric about this?” Triscan questioned. He felt concerned. His son was foolish and selfish; he was oftentimes cruel, but Triscan never would have thought his son would stoop this low. Calira was to be his wife and he surrounded her with his conquests. 

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