Will you be my queen?
What a loaded question. You laid awake half the night thinking about it. How could he ask you that? How could you say yes? It was stupid really, if you had the mark you were his "queen" whether you wanted to be or not. Maybe you should be flattered that he bothered asking, that he cared what you thought.
All you really felt was confused.
When you woke up in the morning your shoulder hurt terribly, probably from the awkward position you finally fell asleep in. There was light streaming through the curtains and you were surprised because usually someone would've woken you by now, especially when there were guests to entertain.
"You're awake." It wasn't a voice you were used to hearing first thing in the morning. Your father was sitting at you're desk in your room.
"Wha-" you sat up straight and rubbed your eyes.
"It's alright dear," your mother was there too, at your bedside. Why were they here? They never came into your chambers like this.
Neither looked happy. Your father's lips were pressed into a thin white line and your mother was paler than you'd ever seen. What had happened while you were asleep? Why hadn't they woken you?
"What's going on?" You let out a shaky breath and listened carefully. You didn't hear any yelling, the castle wasn't under siege. Everything seemed okay, "Where are my ladies?"
"They've done quite enough for the day," your father's lip curled in anger and his face began to turn a light shade of red at just the mention of your ladies. What had they done?
You shifted and the pain was back. Wincing, you rubbed over it and looked down. Only, it wasn't as you'd left it the day before. The skin was- was- colorful.
"Mother," your hand flew away as you looked at your shoulder in shock, "What's happened?" Your heart dropped when you realized what you were looking at, it wasn't the Falcon of the House of Hood. It was two snarling golden Lions wrapped in the heavy red ribbons of Athium. No. "Mother?" You said again weakly as tears filled your eyes. You knew they had three princes. The youngest, Luke, was set to lead and was the only one who hadn't yet found a wife. He was supposed to be ruthless, he would kill you you were his enemy.
"Shhhh," she smoothed down your hair, "it will be alright. The Goddess is never wrong."
"TO HELL WITH THE GODDESS," your father erupted from his seat, "SHE WANTS ME TO GIVE MY ONLY DAUGHTER TO ATHIUM SCUM!" He stood up from his seat and began to pace the room. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides and he was practically foaming. You'd never seen him this angry. He couldn't not give you over. That could induce war from all sides. Laws about marks were sacred and followed by all, to ignore them was a slap in the face to all royal houses. They wouldn't stand for it and your small kingdom couldn't fight every other country.
There was a loud knock on the door, pulling you out of your impending panic. "Come in," your mother stood to greet who it was, but held comfortingly onto your hand as she did so.
Your brother walked into the room, looking just as concerned as your parents. Clearly, something more had happened.
"Well?" Your Father asked impatiently, "how long?"
"They're right next to us, probably a day at most," Michael sighed, "we knew they had spies here, it couldn't have taken long for Luke to get word he's probably already on his way."
"What happened?" You asked as firmly as you could. You were a princess, this was a reality you'd been prepared your whole life for. You couldn't panic, you needed to be strong and calm like your mother. Apparently, you were set to be a queen soon.
"Sometime in the middle of the night your mark came," your mother explained, "in the morning Martha was gone along with one of the horses, your other ladies didn't wake you when they saw it, but told us. The Drisea procession is leaving while we speak and we suspect one from Athium will be here shortly." She sat back down when she was done and shook her head lightly. You felt sick to your stomach. Calum who had kept you up half the night was gone. Luke, your arch nemesis was on his way to claim you as his birthright. You were going to be queen of Athium.
"What does this mean?" You asked anyone, everyone in the room.
Nobody has a good answer.
"It means you're marrying Luke," your mother said gently.
"IT MEANS I'M GOING TO WAR WITH ATHIUM!" Your Father roared. He was quickly corrected by your mother who assured you there would be no war.
"It means Athium is going to have a beautiful rose garden," Michael tried to make you feel better, "and hopefully the rivalry will end."
"Like Hell it will," at least it seemed your father was growing slightly calmer, but looked none the less angry.
"Why don't we let Y/N dress, she has a long day ahead of her," this time when your mother stood she didn't hold your hand, she ushered your father and brother out of the room.
They were quickly replaced by your remaining ladies, who dressed you in silence. For once you didn't mind. There was a lot to think over. Athium was not a place you wanted to be, nor ever thought you'd go. They were even colder than your county as they were north of you, but had a lot of land since vast portions were uninhabitable. The House of Hemmings was currently ruling, their kings were supposed to be as majestic and terrifying as lions. Prince Luke was occasionally discussed in court, you'd heard he was intelligent and particularly handsome. He had been placed as next in line after his oldest brother became a priest and the second oldest became a knight. It was highly unusual for a third oldest to rule without any bloodshed, Athianian customs must be different than your own. Since both of your country's capitals were close to the border it was only a few hours horseback to get there. Depending on when Martha left, and what time it was, Luke could already be on his way. He'd be at the castle in time for dinner, but you doubted he planned on staying. Once you were dressed, your ladies began to pull out the trunks stashed under your bed, usually used to pack for you when you were traveling. Only now it would likely be a long time before you came back.
You didn't want to stay for that, you knew they were capable. You turned to walk out instead.
"Princess?" Sarah called out to you for the first time. You looked back to see her and Sophia standing shoulder to shoulder. "We just wanted you to know that it was an honor being your ladies."
"Thank you," you nodded at them and then quickly walked out before you began to cry. Michael was waiting there for you like he usually was. He took your arm and helped you straighten up.
"Please don't cry," he sighed, "we knew this day was coming, Luke is a lucky man."
You blinked back your tears and slowly began walking toward the throne room, "What if he hates me because I'm from here? What if he kills me or beats me or lock me up or-"
"Shhhh," Michael stopped walking at looked at you with deep concern, "Prince Luke will not do anything of the kind because if he does we will go to war, and you will come right back here. You were marked to be his queen and nothing less. I will listen to no other suggestions."
Michael waited until you agreed with him before continuing your walk. "So Martha was a spy then?" You changed the subject.
"It certainly seems like it," he let out a dry chuckle, "probably isn't the only one either."
"I hate her," you grumbled, "how could she do this to me? To us? She committed high treason and I want her hanged."
"Well, Father," Michael cleared his throat pointedly, "pretty soon you're going to have to think of her as a patriot so cut it out."
Your lower lip curled in disgust. That girl who pretended to be your friend was no patriot and you didn't care what anybody else said. She acted without honor and you would never forgive her for what she did to you and to your home country. "I know they will not hang her, but I will never stop believing she deserves it." That was your best compromise.
When you and Michael got to the throne room everyone was moving. Your father was yelling at servants as they scurried about, preparing the castle for new guests, ones that they'd never entertained before. Your mother was up and speaking to the maids and the butlers and the chefs. No doubt her life just got much harder, it was difficult to entertain a delegation when you knew little about their customs. You didn't know how the Athanians liked to be greeted, what they ate or how they prepared their quarters. You hoped it wasn't too different from home, it would make adjustment more difficult.
"Why don't you take a seat, I'll speak to father," Micheal patted your arm gently, and then smiled reassuringly at a young girl who's arms were full of red ribbons and looked absolutely terrified after the king had yelled at her. You watched as she scurried over to your mother and presented the ribbons to the butler. Decorations were already being planned and executed, it was likely you wouldn't recognize the room in a few hours.
You realized that this could be your last time climbing the stairs to the throne. You hoped Luke would let you come back and visit every so often, and of course if anything happened to Michael you were the heir. Still, there was a sense of finality as your shoes clicked against the polished marble, it felt like the last time. Maybe you would climb these stairs again, but it would always feel different. Things would never be the same as they were now.
You gingerly sat down on your throne and decided to savor your last few hours as an unclaimed princess. Freedom was never sweeter than when it was threatened. You relished the hours you sat and watched as the deep red ribbons were intertwined with your family's green ones and hung about the ceilings of the great room. The curtains were changed and opened wide to let the natural light filter in. Roses, heaps and heaps of roses were brought inside and woven together into massive tapestries that were to be hung on the walls. You also spent time looking at your mark, you could see the roses now, delicate details woven into the fabric of the ribbons and incorporated into the flowing manes of the lions. The idea of a lion's mane made of roses in reality made you chuckle, it would detract from the terror, you thought, for a beast to wear flowers. Then again, you noticed as the petals were allowed to fall to the floor, red roses were the same color as blood. Pooling petals swept away to keep things clean and tidy for the Prince.
He was there by dinner, you were correct. First came the red clad herald, there to announce the approaching party. His mouth was wine stained, and you could barely focus on his words. If the working servants had wine stained mouths then clearly there was a great celebration happening in the approaching party. Your jaw clenched. You had been sitting in borderline misery all day, watching as your home was made to welcome this man who was supposed to be yours. All while he was getting drunk with his servants and procession. You were not pleased.
It wasn't something you could dwell on through, the herald wasn't sent very far in front of his master. You could hear the echoing voices and loud footsteps of the approaching party. You stood to greet them with the rest of your family and plastered a smile across your face.
It was fake. You had a feeling you were going to be doing an awful lot of that.
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