-Lux-
"Could you wait near the elevator?" I ask Ash as we stop in front of Dawson's office. He nods and turns around.
I might've heard it, but it sounded like he wished me good luck. I silently thank him before turning back to the door.
It looks intimidating. The words written above his door pop out at me. This time around they look like some sort of enchantment.
I force myself to pull my eyes down and knock twice. A part of me hopes he won't be here, the other parts think he won't. Then my common sense and the part of me that convinced me to leave my family to protect them.
"Go away!"
"You sound in good spirits!" I shout back. In return he yells, "I don't have time to waste on you."
I responded to that by banging on the door until he opens it. It took a while and my fists feel numb, but it was worth it. He looks pissed.
"You know, I was startin' to think you wouldn't come."
"I shouldn't have," he says bitterly, disgust written on his face. I scoff and mutter, "Who said I would've given up?"
"What do you want? It's bad enough for you to come without telling me ahead of time. Then you want to hit on my door to get my attention."
"Can I come in?"
"No."
"No? Can't we talk over tea? I have a letter... I was told to give to you," I lift and his eyes drift to it and linger there for a moment.
"You won't leave if I say no, will you?" He asks, sighing. I shake my head. He growls and mutters, "Fine."
"Where do I sit?"
"I thought you didn't need to be told what to do."
It takes everything in me not to slap him. Marrying him sounds like a living nightmare. If my parents weren't involved, I wouldn't even be seeing him.
I choose the seat across from his office chair. The desk is scattered in papers. A jar of pens is knocked over and a quill sits in a half empty ink tub.
"How do you think in such a mess?" I ask as he takes a seat. He ignores me as he pulls the papers into a stack.
Fancy clothes. I would have to wear dresses like that. What's it called again? Victorian? Yeah.
He has a fluffy bow looking thing around the collar. The main colors are blue and black. It looks right and really uncomfortable. Layers and layers.
It's freezing here, no wonder he wears that. The palace is heated, but clearly it doesn't always keep out all the cold.
A small knock on the door jerks me back to reality. I turn to the door and Dawson towels them to come in. It's a maid with bright red hair and a face full of freckles. She carries in tea.
When she sees me, she smiles. And dang wide, too. She nods to me and sets the tray between us. She pours us out tea and I mumble, "Thank you."
Her eyes widen and she nods again. She leaves once Dawson says thank you and waves her off.
"There, tea. What is so important about that letter that you had to come all this way?" He asks, adding little blocks of sugar to his tea.
I take two and drop them into mine before answering, "I think you should read it."
He rolls his eyes before taking a sip of his tea. I smirk at that response and say, "All I want to ask is, can you have an open mind? This is really important to me."
"Just give it to me," he says, putting his hand out. I toss it to him and lean back into my seat, sipping my tea. He reads it much quicker than I did and his face grows full of horror more and more as he reaches the bottom.
When he's done with it, he lets out a string of curse words and shoots me a look like I asked for this.
"Pretty important isn't it? I'm supposed to convince you to say yes," I say, stirring my tea. He adds another sugar cube to his while he says, "You're doing a fine job. I want to say no right now."
"Why haven't you?" I say, setting my finished tea cup down. He doesn't answer as he slowly sips on his tea. He sets the cup down and pours more. Adds sugar cubes and still ignores me.
"Why didn't you say no yet?" I ask again when he sets his cup down again. He doesn't look at me as he reaches for his cup again. But I don't let him.
I snatch it away and drain it. I set it back in front of him and say, "There, answer me. And how the hell do you drink that? It's liquid sugar."
He's too busy judging me to answer. I roll my eyes at him and sit back, "Am I safe to assume I won't be getting an answer for a while. On the sixth day. I need your answer by then."
He sits back and looks me up and down. I growl as I push my teacup forward, "I can't believe I'm asking you. Can you please think about it. I know I may not seem fit for queen. I really am not, but I do have stuff to give."
"Like? You must remember this is marriage. I'll be stuck with you for the rest of my life, for what? A family who went against the laws? Sounds like a pretty foolish reason to marry someone."
"Keep my family out of your damn mouth," I hiss, standing up. He rolls his eyes at me and says, "Fine, I'll give you my response in six days. But don't you think you should just face it right now. I'm pretty sure I know what I want to say."
"Time changes things," I say, walking towards the door, "And no, I have a bad habit of pushing things off. It makes me feel better."