That Royal Bad Ass

10. Never Said He Was Mannerly.

DEDICATED TO invisblyinked for the amazing cover on my new story "Dawn"! Check it out :D 

-REVISED-

Chapter 10- Saturday, Sunday & Monday

"And the reception hall will be grand!" the wedding planner, Nena exclaimed in her chirpy annoying accent "Drapes! Those will be lovely!"

I pinched the skin between my eyes and looked at Stephen, he just downed the rest of his vodka and poured himself another glass without a word. That was his fifth glass. Was that even possible? He drank the shit like it was all sugar and water. No ethanol.

"Why aren't you dead hung over?" I whispered in his ear with a tone of pure amazement.

"...and for the reception, well, feast really," she giggled lightly, looking up from clip board pen absently drumming on it.

"Twelve courses," was all she said before she droned on and on about the cake and the oh so 'grand entrance'.

"I am," he said and I raised an eyebrow not knowing what he was talking about "I'm so far gone right now."

He groaned silently before slipping on his ray bans, indoors! I bet my favourite pony he was sleeping... not that I have ponies or anything. Pfft. He can't fall asleep! Not now at least. Now I have to pay attention. Ugh. Stephen.

"Will you?" was all I heard Nena ask, her light eyebrows drawn together forming wrinkles in her otherwise flawless face—surgically I bet.

"I'm sorry?" I smiled politely at her, unsure how to respond, I never did these things for myself before.

"Would you like to write your vows for yourself?" she smiled at my attempt at politeness.

My eyes widened slightly. Of course not. I must have been glaring because she shifted uncomfortably and cleared her throat.

"So that's a no...?" she stated unsure; my expression softened and an idea formed in my head. Lying and messing with people, right Stephie.

"Oh, no." I started forcing a blush "I... um... I don't think it'd be wise for me to write mine because I am an emotional wreck."

I looked down and bit my lip bashfully when her composure softened and she made an 'aw' sound.

"Oh, darling," she patted my hands which were currently strangling each other in my lap, "This happens all the time with my brides, don't you worry your pretty little head about it princess, I've written thousands of vows."

I smiled shyly at her.

"Stephen said he'd love to write his own," I was laughing inwardly, don't blow it Nicola! "I remember the first time we met..."

The tears came so easily, I really did deserve an Oscar.

She squeaked excitedly and let out a sigh of dreamy admiration.

"Well if that's what he wants," she signed something that looked official, "That's it I guess, we shall meet again next weekend."

She said, not asked.

"You look like shit," I said looking up from my laptop screen to Stephen's undead like condition as he stepped out of the bedroom. He looked straight up tired, his hair looked greasy and matted, he still wore his clothes from yesterday's meeting, his face was droopy and slack and his eyes were red and narrow.