An Indecent Proposal

Chapter 3

Prince Christian was not an unreasonable man, most of the time. Of course, it all depended on whether his father, the King of Rothsby, was being a reasonable man himself.

In order to avoid any forced betrothals of any kind, he had signed himself up to lead negotiations with King Ferdinand of Eastumbria. However, he was beginning to think that perhaps it had not been the wisest of ideas.

Abroad one of the strongest and largest ships that the Rothsbians had to offer, Prince Christian had found out from one of the servants that his father had sent a letter to King Ferdinand regarding a more permanent alliance of sorts.

Marriage. To the Eastumbrian Crown Princess.

Rumor had it that the Crown Princess was a dainty young lady and that she, like most females, had delicate sensibilities. Few outside foreign dignitaries or the nobles had ever seen the royal, but all sure attested to her calm and gentle nature from what known.

After all, what else could a woman ever be, right?

While Prince Christian understood that women often acted in such an innocent manner as to not tarnish their reputations, he personally liked women to act like they had a mind of their own and  could act out of their own accord.

He didn't have anything against the Crown Princess, at least not personally, but it did not bode well to spurn the future Queen or her father, the King, if such an offer was ever brought up during his visit. He just simply had no interests in marrying, at least not now.

Prince Christian had only signed up to lead the efforts for negotiation under the pretense that any matchmaking on his father's behalf was to postponed until further notice. Though it seemed his father was clearly eager to rid himself of his third and youngest son.

He had known his father could be a bit difficult, but he didn't expect for the King to be a bloody bastard.

He had only had some couple of days before the ship would arrive at the Eastumbrian capital, known as Castilla, but until then, he would plot how to avoid falling into any kind of trap that lead to marriage.

The question being, how?

...

"What?! Surely, you must be joking." Sophia was utterly confused how the young lord had gone from simply listening to her to asking her for a bloody dance.

"I'm afraid not. Of all the reasons you gave me to walk away from the ball, they all had to do with the judgmental stares of your fellow peers, none about you actually hating dancing, unless I am incorrect?" Raising one eyebrow at her, he continued to offer her his hand.

Knowing she had nothing to lose and that the young man was right, but not wanting to concede such a point, Sophia simply stood up and accepted his offer.

Turnt out that Lord Stirling was quite the accomplished dancer. This was no ordinary lord, for sure.

Nobility did have to learn the art of the waltz, amongst other things, but this man danced as if he had been born to do so. For a nobleman, he seemed almost too well-educated. Ever so graceful, he led Sophia around the garden and she soon lost track of the time. 

She only recalled laughing in his arms and the two of them twirling around the garden, as if nothing else mattered. His face sported such a relaxed expression, a stark difference from the constant scheming and backstabbing that she saw that men usually wore.

Looking at how glad he looked to be with her, Sophia felt a bit relieved to know that it was still possible to simply be just a young woman in the arms of a man and nothing more.