Chapter 1

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And in the spring of his twentieth year, the crown prince shall choose his bride, whom he shall marry in the fall of that same year. His bride must meet the following requirements: she must be of an age less than that of the prince; she must be of noble birth to parents in good standing with the kingdom; she must be well educated in matters of court etiquette and social behaviors; she must be of childbearing age. A spring festival shall be held, to be attended by all, and exclusively, the eligible ladies in the kingdom. After one month, during which time the prince shall become acquainted with all ladies attending the festival, he shall choose the lady whom he thinks is best equipped to serve the kingdom and himself.

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Charles sighed as he he set the ancient manuscript back into its carrier. He was not looking forward to the festival, and he was even less excited at the prospect of a hundred or so young women following and fawning over him every second of every day for a month. The heat in the luxuriously decorated carriage was beginning to become unbearable, and the overwhelming amount of velvet certainly was not helping the situation. He sighed a second time as he unbuttoned his suit, careful not to snag any strings or stain the fabric with his greasy fingers. Made by the best seamstresses and crafters in the royal city, the entire suit was made of a soft gold silk to bring out the flecks in his eyes, with accents of pink to match his lips. Charles had been reminded his entire life of just how handsome he was, with his dark, curly hair, brown and gold eyes, full lips, and strong cheek and jaw bones. Men tended to become very nervous and protective of their wives when near Charles, perhaps worried the women would notice how plain their husbands were when compared with this striking young man. Court women, who often had their own riches and estates, were notoriously treacherous when it came to swaying their affections towards the most attractive bidder. He, however, had never been very absorbed with appearances, and had rarely found any of the gorgeous women attending the royal balls and frequenting the halls of the castle very attractive, much less himself. He sighed yet again as he thought of everything that would take place over the next two fortnights, and especially what he would have to do on the final day. He just couldn't picture himself liking any of the upper class, often snooty, noble girls he would be forced to meet, and he most definitely did not enjoy the thought of marrying one of them. He had asked his father if there was anything that could be done, any way he could wait to find a wife, but his father had told him no in the form of a long, boring, rather annoying speech on the importance of customs, how old these rules were, how he and Charles' mother were very happy together, and the necessity of finding a suitable woman to give him many heirs. The last part bothered him especially. Charles did not enjoy the thought of raising children, or sex, or any part of the married life his parents were arranging for him. He would rather let his younger brother be king.

Augustus was the perfect prince; he was regal and handsome, with a slightly haughty attitude befitting of royalty. He was also unbothered by the long list of customs the royal family was expected to follow, although he may have thought they were outdated. However, even though he was only a year younger than Charles, he was the second born child, and therefore would never become king except in the event of his older brother's death. Several unentitled princes in the kingdom's history had murdered their older brothers for the crown, one had even been so desperate that he murdered all seven of his older siblings in order to secure his place as king, but Charles and Augustus had never held anything except love for each other. Though Augustus would have liked to be the next king, he did not blame Charles for having been born before him, and had accepted his place as a duke. Charles thought on how Augustus would have been excited at the thing which now filled his older brother's mind with dread, and Charles couldn't help but feel a bit of self pity. The unfairness of it all! He, the next king, was still bound by rules written two hundred years ago by the high priests, who were now turning to dust in their graves, simply because past kings had chosen to follow them. He decided that, when he became king, he would abolish all the old customs and create a new, much shorter list. Though he was still upset, the prospect of burning the old parchment he now had clasped between his hands helped to lift his spirits ever so slightly. He turned to gaze out of the window, watching as the kingdom, his kingdom, slid by. It was a beautiful place, and the rolling hills, forests, and abundance of sheep made him wish he had been born to a peasant family rather than royalty. He loved to watch the people go about their business, buying food, selling livestock, striking up conversations with friends they happened to pass in the street and inviting them to supper. He had even sneaked out of the castle several times, dressed in the plainest clothes he owned, in order to mingle and become familiar with the lives of his future subjects. He had worked in a forge for a day when he was sixteen, selling knives and tools and helping the blacksmith however he could by bringing cups of water and bowls of hot soup as he worked. The shaping of bricks of metal into ornate, beautiful objects had fascinated Charles, and he hoped to learn the craft one day, though it was extremely unlikely he would ever be able to. Royalty did not work, and they most certainly did not take up "commoner" jobs.

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