Chapter 2

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Delilah was standing at the edge of the lake peering down at her reflection. It was muddy and distorted and it expressed exactly what she felt like on the inside. It had been three years since the ball and the unrest in her life created by it still accosted her frequently. She had been labelled unmarriageable by the village folk and she often caught people looking at her with pity.

The rumours the Prince had rejected her had travelled the instant she had returned back home; Lady Winston and her imaginative daughters had told their own dramatic versions of how from the being Queen's favourite she had been cast aside. Rejected, they had whispered in sotto voices to everyone in their circle of acquaintance. From there the wildfire of rumours proceeded to be narrated to even the common grocer.

Delilah had been unperturbed by the sudden interest in her private life. Even her own brother had been unable to extract the whole story from her. So many details remained unanswered and Delilah was unwilling to share the burden with anyone.

Her father and brother like the rest of the good folk of their village set to assume the snub as an unfortunate play of fate and eventually let her be. Little did they know that the snub had been deliberate and orchestrated by Delilah herself.

After the Queen had broken down from her son's diatribe Delilah had tried to comfort her forgetting her own pain completely.

"Oh, Delilah, how wretched this situation has become. I never spoke of this to you but I knew you were perfect for my son as soon as I saw you," The woman had sobbed miserably into Delilah's shoulders. Delilah tried not to let the Queen notice how much her hands were shaking as she tried to comfort the woman.

"I'm not good enough for him, I never was," Delilah spoke so gently and softly almost as if she was speaking to herself.

"No, don't say that. I know my son better than anyone else," Queen Rosemary uttered equally soft.

"But your decision will never make him happy. He will always be resentful of both of us for forcing me upon him," Delilah shook her head; her hair falling from tightly held bun.

"He will learn to love you; he must," The Queen answered with quiet determination and a strength similar to her son.

Delilah stood up and walked towards the window, "Then I must be the one who refuses."

The Queen stood up behind her, surprised. Delilah turned around to face her.

"I refuse," Delilah looked at the Queen straight in the eyes showing no hesitancy at all and the woman looked down defeated.

"I can't force you, can I," The Queen muttered.

"No, it wouldn't be worth it," Delilah fingered the soft fabric of one of the sofas as she paused and resumed once again, "It needs to end. This dreaded business needs to come to an end."

"But how?" the Queen spoke, agitated, "I have been publically liberal with my affection for you. They will not forget so easily. The gossip vine never dies."

"Then snub me at the final evening of the ball. They shall be expecting a great deal to talk about after the grand announcement so give them something to talk about by ignoring me."

The Queen came closer and peered into her eyes trying to see any signs of doubtful but found only determination and calm. She touched Delilah's face tenderly and Delilah felt a pang of heartbreak; her mother had never looked at her this kindly. For a moment she felt she would gladly enter a loveless marriage to feel this kind of acceptance.

"Do you even understand the magnitude of what you're asking; think again; think wisely, Delilah. This will be a topic of much repetition. A girl rejected by the crown prince; your prospects will be diminished greatly."

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