Tulips

Chapter 4

"Louis, can I talk with you?" Adelaide asked as the group left the room. She smiled at him, the cogs in her brain ticking. Louis shrugged and lead her round the corner with a nonchalant swagger. Once they were out of sight, he snapped back to face Adelaide, his face stern.

"What?" Louis' voice stabbed at Adelaide; it was as if he had shoved her chest with both hands.

"I can't be bothered to go to back to France," she waved her head dramatically.

"Why do you care? Rushing back Versailles, for what?"

Adelaide's face dropped; how can he not know...

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything," she stuttered "I thought they would have told you," her head span as she turned to leave.

Louis sighed, grabbing her arm, and pulling her back.

"Of course, they fucking told me,"

"Then why are you so desperate to avoid France?" she sighed

"Because I don't want to marry you," his emphasis on 'you' hung in thick silence between them.

"Well we don't have much choice in it do we?" Adelaide muttered, a lump solidifying in her throat.

"Look, I'm just trying to have a few months of freedom before I have to commit to an arranged marriage."

"The advisers said you would propose before the end of Summer,"

"Some of us aren't scared of our advisers,"

"Some of us are just dealing with the cards they've been dealt. You might think the advisers don't control you, but your father does and-"

"Shut up!" Louis interrupted "Why don't you just go off and marry Nicholai and run of to Russia, you both seem very willing,"

"And never set foot on this side of Europe, never see my family again,"

Louis rolled his eyes but succeeded in agreement.

"Leave Nicholai out of this" Adelaide added with a steady tone.

"No. You can't just flirt and lead him on and then expect me to be fine with it. What happens when I propose, what is everyone supposed to think; that my wife has the Russian bastard on the side. You're ridiculous."

"Mind your own fucking business," Adelaide retaliated.

"Okay, then stop pestering me about proposing,"

"That is my business, you can't complain that I'm talking to Nicholai and then ignore me. I guess being senile runs in the family." Adelaide's shoulders sagged with the weight of her words, why are you such a bitch? Louis stared back at her; he was taller than about half a foot, so he towered over her. His light features looming darkly above her.

"You're so uppity all the time, it gets boring. Maybe if you spent less time looking down that pretty little nose and more time thinking about things that actually matter, your father would have would have trusted you enough to not marry you off. But instead you go about playing your petty, meaningless social games, and smelling the flowers." his voice was steady and cold, like a pond on a frosted morning, unwavering and consistent, "This mess is your fault Adelaide, don't forget that," Louis slouched into the wall, his burning eyes never stopped staring right into Adelaide as she shrunk into herself. She stared up at him for several moments.

"Sorry, if you'll excuse me," Adelaide turned swiftly, she felt tears prick at her eyes. She wanted to turn back and keep arguing, or at least stand straight as she walked away, but it just felt too much.

Why was he fighting her? Are they not on the same team? Would being friends not make the whole thing easier? Adelaide's quick footsteps echoed as she pounded through the halls. She fell backwards on to her bed, staring at her ceiling, chest pounding.

Should she be fighting harder to stop the marriage? Louis seemed like he planned on throwing punches till he was down, and he had far less to lose. Adelaide had simply accepted her parent's decision. She had bowed and left the room, maybe if she had protested it, they would have had a sudden strike of empathy. No, that's a silly thought.

'your fault'. The words imprinted on her ceiling. Was he right? If she had shown better responsibility, would they have trusted her to take the throne. Sure, they claimed they had been planning it for years, then why not tell her earlier. The thoughts spilled through her mind for the following weeks.