Royally Bounded

Chapter 8

Hayden

"Are you ready for the wedding tomorrow?" Ivor asked as we settled down around the table for breakfast in the morning. My mother and father were taking their time as usual while I was being interrogated for the nth time.

"It's just a wedding," I commented, monotoned. "Don't overthink it."

He shook his head, seating down beside me, and my parents entered in time, taking a seat in their spots. My father took the head of the table and called in the servants and maids to serve breakfast. The head servant, Colton, had prepared everything from the beginning to end.

My fingers entwined together as I rested my hands on my lap. My thumbs rotated around each other while we seated quietly. My father had his brown eyes darting a stern look over at me, the one that had never gave any mercy to anyone. It was the look of the king that people feared for all their lives.

"Hayden," he called, his voice almost like a warning. "I expect you to be on your best behaviour tomorrow for the wedding."

I let out a cold scoff once I heard what he said. He was demanding me to be good on my own wedding. God, this could not get any better than I imagined.

"It's my wedding tomorrow," I reminded coldly. "You make it sound like I will ruin it." I had enough of everyone trying to put the fault on me. This was fucking ridiculous.

"You have caused enough trouble for this past month," he pointed at me, his eyes narrowing.

"Hold on," I raised one of my hands to stop him from speaking further. "What trouble? You and mother always wanted me to marry. I'm just satisfying both of your wishes."

"Hayden," my mother hushed me down and shook her head, indicating that I shouldn't push my father's limits. I rolled my eyes and leaned back on my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.

My father didn't want to continue this conversation either. Breakfast came in time, and the servants and maids placed the dishes down in front of us. I reached over to grab a pack of sugar and tore the paper to only pour half of it inside the dark coffee.

"You do need someone to handle your mess. What kind of person uses half a pack of sugar for their coffee?" Ivor ticked at my habit, and I snapped my head over at him, displeased with his complaint.

"Don't make me throw coffee at your face."

"Let's see how long Clara can stand your attitude for."

Clara

Since I was young, I always imagined my wedding to be the best part of my life, and even if I didn't have the most extravagant ceremony or owned the most expensive dress, the point was I could marry someone I truly loved. I wanted a chance that other women could fight for in the future. Being attached to someone I didn't know wasn't love.

It was an arrangement to cause both people trouble.

I had seen it with my own eyes. I heard stories about tragic marriages, and I feared my entire life about them. The only fortunate outcome was I didn't have to marry Prince Arnaldo, a man who was fourteen years older than me. He treated me with disrespect, and if I ended up with him, I could never survive the relationship. It would be about him treating me like a slave, doing chores and satisfying his needs. My stomach churned at the thoughts.

Even though Hayden and I shared different personality, he was pleasing to the eyes, like Rosie said. We were only two years apart, but he still had a side that pushed my boundaries, and not to mention, he might not be what he disguised to be.

My cousin, Isabella, married a businessman who was thirty years her senior. My uncle sold her away to her husband when she just turned eighteen, and she had to consummate with an unattractive and disgusting man that was known for his sadist behaviours. I visited her frequently because she was someone I adored.