Dead Suitors Tell No Tales

6: Under Pressure

Uri, with his talent for getting seemingly secret information, had figured out exactly which noblemen had been selected to take part in the competition, and had analyzed he candidates throughly before selecting a target.

It was fortunate that even nobles couldn't escape Uri's reach.

Lord Elric Belvoir was a Baron of Brookmount, and Uri's eyes had gleamed fiercely once he had told Dax about the man. Belvoir had apparently gotten mixed up in the wrong crowd a few years ago, stooping so low as to gamble freely with peasants and get in drunken brawls with the people of the city. Unfortunately for Belvoir, his title was relinquished as his actions disgraced his family and soon enough, Uri had found him.

Belvoir was invited to travel to Sagewick for the contest, Uri had found out. As the oldest son of the Lord and Lady of Brookmount, he was still eligible for the suitor competition, and Brookmount was a small enough fief that to send such a disgraced man wouldn't cause too much of an uproar. He might not be able to inherit the earldom, but he still was of noble blood, and that was his ticket to the royal castle.

Luckily for Dax, Uri had come through and managed to convince Belvoir to instead take a little holiday in the remotest southern seashores, while Dax stepped in to take his place. All it took was a single threat for Elric Belvoir to agree to let someone steal his identity for a few months. His cooperation probably ended up saving his life. The invitation to the contest was procured at once before Lord and Lady Brookmount could see it, and Uri had kept it in his possession to keep the plan a secret.

As for Dax, in a few days he would be Lord Elric Belvoir, a criminal in disguise. He had no idea what to expect. It shouldn't be that hard, he mused. He'd rummage around for the vial discreetly until he found it, whether that involved illegal methods or not, and woo a beautiful girl while he was at it.

Piece of cake.

He grinned, then scowled once more at his horrible outfit.

"I really have to wear this?"

"Yes. Now shut your damn mouth."

*********************************

Amara glanced at the new sheet of parchment before her and gave a snort of laughter.

Lord Hartwig Riddenfare
Marquess of Digsby

Hartwig?! Amara wrinkled her nose and shook her head. Who the hell named their child Hartwig? She wondered if he actually went by that name, or if he changed it so it was less ostentatious. She couldn't blame him if he did. Gods, what a name.

She continued to scan the list of the suitors who were supposedly due to arrive in two days' time, pausing over the names that seemed familiar to her. The twenty noble families eligible did not hold court at Sagewick often since they each lorded over a substantial amount of people and had their own duties to attend to. She recognized some of the names from gossip and annual fief reports, but hadn't met any of them yet.

She hoped at least one of them was decent to get along with. The men of Sagewick castle were the only males around her age that she'd interacted with, and they hadn't impressed her by any means. None had wanted to converse with her, except to shower her with praises and compliments she knew herself were not true.

She smirked as she caught yet another odd name in the list.

Padgett Atwood
Earl of Pierrepont

Padgett. That name seemed childish, one that a man should grow out of when he came of age. Pierrepont was a fief to the far east of Ester, tucked in a back pocket of green hills and wide valleys. She supposed the name Padgett fitted the sort of slow, laid-back  lifestyle that the people of Pierrepont lived.

Amara perused the names again.

Barnaby Crawford
Viscount of Avante

Quimby Voisin
Earl of Kentling

Dederick Groulart
Baron of Dungate

She hoped that the men wouldn't be as awful as their names sounded. Amara doubted if she could stand being married to someone named Quimby, let alone Barnaby.

She shuddered at the mental image that sprang forth in her mind, of her grimacing as she called "Barnaby!" to a greasy-haired man twice her age. Surely her father didn't expect her to marry an old miser. If he did, then she just might cut his head off with the sword under her bed.

I'm sure someone would understand, she thought wryly, and grinned at the thought.

The list of suitors wasn't all that bad, however, as there were also several good fiefs and normal names to balance out the weird ones.

There was a Gregory of Fuldale, a Tobias of Rialto, and a Lorenzo from Strivlick.

Amara raised an eyebrow when she saw the man enlisted from Brookmount.

"Elric Belvoir," she said softly to herself. "Interesting." She could have sworn the man was a full disgrace to his family, if the court gossip was to be believed. Supposedly he had gambled a bit too much with peasants and was reduced to a shockingly derelict state.

She wondered if her father knew of his scandalous affairs. It was very likely he had noticed and decided to invite him anyway. What was it to him if his daughter married a rake, after all? As long as Belvoir followed Alistair's wishes, he'd be groomed into a perfect king and she would be nothing more than a puppet on a throne.

She stuck her tongue out at Elric Belvoir's name etched onto the parchment.

If he thought she was easily won, he was in for a big surprise. She wasn't a silly little doll made to sit still and be nice to look at. She was a Princess, a future Queen, and she would make him and all the other idiots acknowledge her right to rule.

Suddenly sick and fed up with learning about the suitors, she stood from where she sat, turning away from the papers that bespoke of her unwanted fate.

Suitors be dammed to hell.

Amara had two days left of freedom. Two days left before her dreams would shatter in front of her and the chains of marriage encircled her.

Two days to relish the freedom she had left, and two days to prepare for the battle ahead.

I hope they're ready, she thought, her mouth slowly curving into a smirk.

I'll make them wish they never thought of joining this contest in the first place.

********************************

Hey guys! :)

This chapter is more of a filler, but the next one will be more exciting. Sorry it took forever to upload; I've been utterly swamped with homework and I also had finals recently, which took so much time to prepare for.

So what do you think of Dax's alias/plan? Any guesses as to what the suitors are like?

Get ready, because next chapter everything finally starts moving into place. Who's ready to meet some suitors?! ;D

Picture to the side is Hugh Dancy, which is how I picture Dax ;)

Votes and comments are much appreciated, as always <3