Almost midway through the 16th century, France and England are crosshairs away from warfare. Malevolence is thick in the air between the two countries and both of the reigning kingdoms are desperate to avoid violence and keep the peace. A marriage b...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Her first week in Lochmore went by quickly, and surprisingly so. The wedding planning took up most of the Queen and Marie's time, and since they were only given a week, they kept busy. Marie had barely even seen her betrothed. He was off, with his father and brother hunting, which was apparently official business. However, the three men returned on the eve of the wedding, just in time for the following day's nuptials. While in the Queen's presence, Marie was able to mask her discomfort, but now, as she stared out the window overlooking the castle grounds...her world seemed to be closing in on her. Maybe it was how tight her maiden had tied her corset this morning, but she felt like she couldn't breathe and she truly didn't want to do this. She didn't want the weight of two countries on her shoulders. Surely, she wasn't strong enough. Someone clears their throat behind her and she quickly turns around. This is the second time he's caught her crying, and she doesn't like it. As he watches her, he feels sympathy for the young Princess, and as tears roll down her cheeks, he only wants to find words that will soothe her.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I can't imagine how hard this must be. I truly can't."
"Do you..." She sniffles and tries to make her voice sound less meek. "Do you ever find solace in the idea that you don't have the responsibilities that we have?" He leans against the wall, gazing at her. "Your brother and me."
"Yes and no." She follows his movements and studies him, carefully. "I feel like, sometimes, I'm not respected the way Leopold is. He's the heir to the throne. I'm the younger son...the occasionally reckless son. So, I suppose it's nice, not to be scrutinized all the time, the way that he is...but I think...he's lucky. In some aspects of his life, and his duties." Marie nods at the handsome Prince. His eyes are utterly captivating. "But I'm sorry that your duties have brought you here—well, for your sake. You should know that we truly appreciate your decision to come here, Princess."
"I didn't choose this, my parents did. I just...decided not to throw myself off the top of Notre Dame." Harry watches her with sadness in his expression. "I've never been given a choice to make on my own, not in my entire life." He holds up his finger.
"I'll be right back. Stay here—if, and only if, you choose to stay here." She smiles at him and nods. Choosing to stay. He's back in a couple of moments, with his arms behind his back. "Will you please close your eyes, Princess?" She closes them. "Alright, you may open them." In his ringed fingers, are two stemless roses. Two beautiful blossoms. A deep red one and the other being a cream color. "Choose one. Or both. But it's entirely up to you." Marie bites her lip and feels a tinge of excitement surge through her veins. She gently takes the ruby red rose, and her fingers tickle his. She breathes in the heavenly fragrance and he admires her as she does so.
