Roses are tough, but can they stand a storm?
Roses, Chapter 7.
*
Amelia Lancaster did not feel as brave as sounded. She knew her father, the Duke would rather have her shot in the head than mix blood with the Yorks.
That is why, as she stood in front of her father's intimidating study, her hand shook.
"Father, I have something to speak to you of"
"I have no knowledge in women business and no interest in women talk. Go speak to your mother" he dismissed without looking up.
Her fingers dug into her thighs, angry at his nonchalance.
"This is most definitely not women's talk Father, I assure you would be quite shocked to hear this"
He signed in grief. Like giving a second to his only child was a great loss to him.
"Alright then, go on" he started scribbling.
"I do not want to wed the prince" she announced, her fingers shaking.
The Lord didn't stop writing.
"Well, you don't have a say in that" he said abruptly, "Once the prince asks for your hand, I shall accept and you shall be delighted"
"No" she whispered.
His hand stopped, and hovered. The air became crisp and thick with tension.
In all the years of her life, she had never refused her father anything, his wish, was carried out without a second thought. But not this time, she was not about to condemn herself to a bitter marriage just because of the man in front of her.
"No" she said again, her voice stronger, her face looking at him.
"I love another. And I will wed him"
The silence was sliced into an unfortunate laughter by her father's voice.
"You amuse me child. You forget. You do not wed just for yourself, you wed for the good of the family. And as the head of the family, I say, you would marry the prince, become queen, bare him a heir and secure our position in England forever. And that, child is what shall happen. Now shoo, with this absurd idea of love and the freedom it entails."
Amelia was frozen.
Granted, her father was not the most loving of the lot, but she liked to belive that her cared about her. He never did talk much to her, except when backing orders and dictating how her life should go, but this...this was cold.
It was like he didn't care...about her happiness—about her.
And that made her heart twist in anger, bitterness and pain.
"If I couldn't have a son, then by God, I would have a daughter who is at least useful" the Duke finished.
Another blow to her heart.
So all this while, he has just seen her an a ladder? A pawn? Merchandise? To bargain his way to power?
If she was wavering in fear, now she was certain. She would never give him what he wanted most.
Power.
She will not marry the prince. She would destroy Caden Lancaster's dreams.
"I refuse to marry the prince" she repeated.
He sighed. A sigh one would make when a lap dog keeps insisting on a walk.
"Say, I am generous, who is the young man you so desperately, want to be with?"
She smiled. Cruelly.
"Harry....York"
The pen in her father's hand snapped in half.
His face darkened in rage, looking positively murderous, he said;
"When hell freezes over"
*
Thoughts?
YOU ARE READING
Roses.
Historical FictionWarning: This is a sad love story. A story that cause your eyes flood your bed. 💔 Amelia and Harry were roses, of different colours that opposed. Amelia, daughter of the Duke of Lancaster, a red rose, who were in direct war with the Duke of York...
