❝ In a world tainted by decadent rulers, the Princess must step back to her kingdom for a revamp of the rules, claiming her rightful place on the throne ❞
Rules are made to be broken was the only rule Lysandra ever abided by. When that very principl...
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"Your betrothal ceremony is set to be tonight, my sweet. I have already picked out a dress and the seamstress will take care of any alterations once you put it on," Zemira informed Lysandra, seeming a little apprehensive. The preparations for the occasion had been going on since a long time but the Queen held herself back when it came to informing her daughter, afraid of her rejection because she had no idea how to persuade her.
Lysandra munched on her food, nodding absentmindedly. "Okay."
"Okay?" her mother asked, appalled. "Did I just hear you say okay?"
Eucarpus nudged his wife, his jaw set and his eyes fixed straight ahead. Seraphine bit her lip seeming amused, trying hard to conceal her emotions from the observant King. It was the next day morning and they were at breakfast along with Timotheus's family and the Dimitrovs, much to Lysandra annoyance.
"Yes, ma. I said okay. Would you rather have me say something else?"
Zemira was baffled as she stuttered, forming incoherent sentences while her breakfast lay untouched.
"What your mother wants to know," Timotheus rasped with a chuckle, "is how you agreed upon your betrothal so easily."
"Meaning? This was fixed a long time ago, wasn't it? Is there a problem with me agreeing?" Lysandra sassed.
"We are just a little worried at your rather speedy decision making is all, little one," Eucarpus confessed, his light eyes sceptical.
"Well, I have my own reasons for it. One, the Russian wannabe isn't too bad looking. Two, I get to get away from the lot of you."
That shut everybody's mouths and Lysandra shrugged and drifted her concentration back onto her steaming hot food.
"Well, we have got a surprise planned for tonight, Lysandra.
"Speaking of my engagement, where is Avgustine, papa?"
"He had to go back to Moscow to take care of some business. Should be back by afternoon," Nikolaus, the former Russian ruler, who had just stepped into the dining hall answered. He took swift steps towards Lysandra who smiled up at him. "I am absolutely ecstatic to welcome you into to the family, dorogaya."
Lysandra nodded, acknowledging his kind gesture. She liked the old man though she had not interacted with him for more than a few minutes. He had this welcoming sort of aura that comforted her, soothed her despite their lack of familiarity with one another.
The silverware clanged against the porcelain dishes as Lysandra smacked her lips and gently wiped them with her hand towel, having done eating. Seraphine got up onto her feet, excusing Lysandra and herself so that they could take care of their personal needs for the impending betrothal.
