- Gwen -
THE NIGHT OF HER eighteenth birthday filled Gwen with dread. It was the night she had to choose her future husband and frankly her choices weren't looking good. All of the men her mother had pointed out were well into their thirties and even their forties. The thought of marrying one of them made Gwen want to throw up.
She sat alone in her room waiting for Lina to call her down. Her mother had instructed her to wait until all of the guests had arrived before she made her entrance. She absentmindedly traced her fingers over the silver embroidered roses on the sapphire brocade of her gown and wondered what it would be like if she wasn't a princess and wasn't required to marry at eighteen. She sighed and shook her head.
"Your Highness?" Lina's voice broke through her thoughts and she looked up.
"Is it time for me to come down?" she asked.
"Yes, Your Highness," Lina replied.
"Thank you, Lina," Gwen said and followed her out of the room.
They walked down the gilded corridors until they reached the doors to the ballroom. Lina gave a small curtsy and was about to leave when Gwen stopped her.
"Lina, wait," she said.
Lina turned around with a questioning look on her face. "Yes, Your Highness?" she asked.
"I just," she started and then faltered, "I just wanted to thank you for being my friend through all of these years. It has meant a lot to me."
Lina nodded her head. "It has been my pleasure, Your Highness."
Lina left after another curtsy, leaving Gwen to enter the ballroom alone. She steeled herself, put on a polite facade, and opened the doors.
"Her Royal Highness, Princess Gwendolyn of Elithriel," a footman announced as she descended the grand staircase.
Everyone's eyes turned to her and she tried her hardest not to hide her face. No matter how many times she attended balls and parties, she just couldn't get used to being the center of attention. She hated it with every fiber of her being.
Her parents greeted her at the bottom. Richard nodded his head at her, his eyes full of pride and Grace smiled at her and pulled her into a hug. Once they broke apart, they were approached by a tall, dark-haired man. He smiled and made a low bow to them.
"Gwendolyn, this is Lord Derrick, Duke of Linolais," Grace said. "He has requested a dance with you."
"It would be my pleasure, my lord," she said with false politeness. He held his hand out to her and they joined the other couples on the dance floor.
"You look very beautiful tonight, Your Highness," Lord Derrick said.
"You flatter me, my lord," Gwen replied. She hoped her words didn't sound as forced as they felt.
Their dance ended without more than meaningless compliments and formalities. After that, she accepted a few more requests with men just as tedious and obsequious as Lord Derrick. Finally, she came face to face with Lord Tyrone. Flashes of the horrible dinner passed through her mind and she had to suppress a shudder.
"Hello, my lord," she said with a slight grimace.
"Hello, Your Highness, I hope you are well," he said formally.
"Yes, thank you," she replied.
"I have hopes to become better acquainted with you despite our disastrous first meeting," he said as he twirled her around. "Would you allow me to court you?"
It took everything she had not to choke on her own saliva. "Court me?" she asked weakly.
"Yes," he said, "your mother said you are searching for a husband, correct?"
"Yes," she replied.
"All I need is your consent," he said as he leered at her. "I believe I would make a fine husband."
"Excuse me," she gasped. "I need some air."
She fled from him and found refuge in a secluded corner of the ballroom, right by the exit to the gardens. The area was dimly lit and she hid in the shadows, vainly hoping she would be able to stay there for the rest of the night without anyone noticing. Fortunately, he hadn't decided to pursue her and she was eternally grateful for that.
"Hello, Your Highness." A voiced suddenly sounded from behind her. She started in surprise. "I didn't expect to find the Princess here all alone on her birthday."
She turned around to see a young man only a few years older than herself. He was tall and dark-haired with a dark tanned complexion. She was surprised. He couldn't be an Elithrielian nobleman; the nobles were all fair skinned as they tended to stay indoors. He had deep green eyes that seemed playful yet somber at the same time.
"May I inquire what your name is?" she asked.
"Andrew," he replied, "Andrew Duval."
"You look familiar, but I don't recall ever meeting anyone named Andrew Duval," she remarked.
"I'm sure you haven't met me before. I'm on a visit from Agarinth," he replied.
"Really?" she asked. "What's it like? I've always wanted to go to Agarinth."
"I don't think my opinion would be of value to you," he said. "Seeing as I live there, I would say my views of the place are quite dull."
"I see your point," she mused. "I do find Elithriel quite dull even though many say it's a beautiful place to travel to."
"I guess we just haven't seen the right places then," he replied.
"Can I be as bold as to say that I find you quite charming?" she said. "It's a welcome relief from all of the other people I've met tonight."
"Do you really spend your time around them?" he asked. "No offense, but they are quite..."
"Tedious?" she finished. She laughed. "That's what I've been thinking my whole life."
"Call me impressed," he said, "I never thought you would find royal life so tedious, Princess."
"It's the same everyday," she shrugged, "of course it gets tedious."
"Would you accompany me for a walk in the gardens?" he asked. "It's quite stuffy in here and I've heard that the gardens are very beautiful."
"Yes please," she said quickly, "I've been wanting to get out of here for ages."
He glanced around to check if anyone was watching before motioning to her to follow him outside. The night air was cool on their faces and the moon gave off a soft white glow to light their way. They found a bench near the main courtyard and sat down.
"So, tell me more about yourself, Mr. Duval," Gwen said. "I find your character to be quite intriguing."
"You compliment me too much, Princess," he said. "On the contrary, I find myself to be quite boring."
"Oh?" she arched an eyebrow. "Don't we all."
"How could being a Princess be boring?" he asked. "You have everything you could ever want."
"Except for freedom," she said quietly.
She glanced at him and he looked taken aback. He quickly smoothed his features back into a jovial expression.
"I often find myself yearning for freedom as well," he remarked thoughtfully, "though from different circumstances."
"And which circumstances would those be?" she asked.
"Poverty," he said, "I come from a poor background. I'm lucky that I'm even here."
"Here as in Elithriel or here as in being alive?" she asked.
"Both," he replied. "I suppose you could call our situations the exact opposite of each other."
"I suppose you could," she said. After a moment of silence, she added, "I've never met anyone like you before. It's quite a refreshing change. In fact, I think you're the most decent person that I've ever met."
"Then I'm really sorry for what I'm about to do," he said slowly. His mirthful demeanor slowly disappeared and was replaced by something darker. "It's nothing personal, I promise."
"What are you doing?" she asked suspiciously as she watched him remove a white cloth from his coat pocket.
He looked at her sadly. "Goodnight, Princess," he said and placed the cloth over her face.
That was the last thing she heard before everything went black.