Marriage of Inconvenience

1-Rosalie

Rosalie felt the pit of her stomach drop. The parchment rattled with the growing tremble in her hands. The words couldn't be right. Alessandra Dawbrick had no right, ruling Juvi or not.

"She can't do this," Rosalie whispered. The sting of tears in her eyes threatened to roll down her cheeks. She blinked hard to keep them at bay.

"I'm afraid she can if she wants to," her mother replied. Rosalie glanced up at her mother. Valerie Colbert rarely, if ever, cried. Red tinged her mother's eyes upon reading the order.

"It is not the end of the world," Rosalie's father commented. Both women shot him a venomous glare. He sat in an overstuffed armchair near the crackling fireplace. Hendrick often retreated to his chair in the library when he had something eating away at his mind. He rubbed his toes on the rug beneath his feet. "You can choose who you want, no Juvi can tell you who to marry. The Vis himself can't do that."

"Did you read the timeframe, Hendrick?" Valerie stomped toward her husband, skirts swishing around her ankles. "Two days! Our daughter has to choose her life's mate in two days!"

"But she can remain here with us. We'll just move the lad into the manor. Rosalie can handle any of those boys."

Valerie hung her head and sighed. She glanced back at Rosalie, who stood wide-eyed and dumbfounded. "Any word on Christopher?"

Rosalie shook her head and turned her back to her parents. The first tear trickled down to her chin. She wiped it away. "I spoke with his father earlier today. He won't be home until next week." The pit in her stomach threatened to swallow her up. She had always loved Christopher. He was the son of one of their best Bellum. Of all the Bellum that guarded Colbert Manor, only Galin had served their family since his induction.

Christopher was set to follow his father's footsteps. Bellum training was brutal. Each soldier had to show an aptitude for all available weapons, and mastery at least two. About half of the applicants were never granted the title.

"Well, we will announce your availability to receive suitors in the morning," her father stated. He pushed up from the chair. "Like I said, it's not the end of the world. Marriage is..." he glanced at Valerie, "an adventure." Valerie sighed and shook her head at her husband.

Hendrick glanced back at his daughter with an open mouth and breath, but let it out in a heavy sigh and bid her goodnight. He smoothed the front of his deep green robe and walked to the closed double doors, swinging them open. The gust fluttered his Pater's robe away from his body, and he strode out of the library, robe trailing like a cape.

Valerie plucked the pins from her hair, letting the long brown locks tumble over her shoulders in waves. "Do you want to start the planning or do you want me to?"

Another tear escaped Rosalie's eye. "You can. I doubt it will really be my wedding anyway." Her mother's shoulders dropped.

"Rose—"

"Goodnight, Mother," Rosalie interrupted, and followed her father out the doors.

Rosalie brushed past the scattering of serva, undoubtedly just clustered around the doors listening as hard as they all could. They all fell over themselves backing out of her way. She found Rebeccah's eyes in the crowd. "I'm ready for bed."

Rebeccah, a few years younger than Rosalie herself, was her personal serva and maid. The lanky girl hurried after Rosalie, her pale bun bobbing beneath her cap.

The two women walked in silence down the hall and up the grand staircase. On the second floor of Colbert Manor were a dozen bedrooms. She walked to hers, the opposite wing of her parents. Rebecca followed at a discrete distance, hurrying inside after closing Rosalie's bedroom door.

Rosalie drifted to her vanity and collapsed in the chair. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her mother's brown locks were twisted up in braids on her head. Rebeccah plucked pins out and gathered them in her hand.

The serva cleared her throat. "Are you all right, Miss?" She cast a quick glance in Rosalie's brown eyes.

"No, Rebeccah. Not at all," Rosalie replied, closing her eyes. Her lip quivered and her fingers found her mouth. "Juvi Dawbrick has ordered me to wed."

Rebeccah gasped and nearly dropped the pins. "No!" Rosalie nodded, sending the remainder of her thick locks down her back. Rebeccah grabbed the ivory brush and started smoothing the masses. "Well, Miss, at least she cannot tell you who to marry."

Rosalie swallowed a sob. "That's what Father said. It is of little comfort though. She's only given me two days to find a suitor and court! Two days!" Rebeccah licked her lips and nodded glancing sideways. "Do you know something?"

"Well, Miss, I have heard of the upper nobility working around that rule, as they are so good at. Oh!" Rebeccah nearly dropped the pins in her hand. "Please forgive me for speaking it!"

Rosalie laughed. "I would rather you speak plainly, Rebeccah."

The serva smiled through the blush of her cheeks. "I have heard talk in town that sometimes," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "sometimes they will give an impossible time frame and present someone of their choosing as a suitor, or possible match. That way, they get to choose without ordering it."

Rosalie's warm complexion paled. "You think Juvi Dawbrick wants to manipulate who I marry?"

Rebeccah shrugged. "I am but a lowly serva, Miss. I cannot understand the workings of the upper classes." 

Rosalie knew better. The serva were privy to most information in the Visrealm because they were serving those that orchestrated it. 

"Thank you, Rebeccah."

"For what, Miss?"

Rosalie sniffed and wiped another tear from her eye. "I don't know. Just...thank you."

Rebeccah helped Rosalie out of her gown and braided her hair for bed. Once alone and in bed, Rosalie cried herself to sleep.