Diana Of Alcotta (Yrsoreth Chronicles 1)

1♔ Beginning of the End

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At the age of 22, Alexander Claumont's betrothal was late. Unlike his older brother, whose marriage was set in stone at five, he, as the second prince, was just an afterthought. No, not a mere passing to defeat the wide known fact that he is a pariah of the royal family. In opposite, his engagement was well thought to his disadvantage.

As always, she plans ahead. Alexander praised Queen Claudette, his stepmother, and nemesis.

And so, the queen called Xander to the throne room. The king was beside her, yet looked more eager to be in his new concubine's chamber than his son's marriage announcement.

His brother Niccolus' inheritance to the throne was titled at birth, but a second prince's appearance born from a commoner is still a threat.

Well, he is, but Xander never showed his cards. The queen was just cautious. One of her assurances was to marry him off to a family with a title but no better than commoners or, worse, to cut off the influence of support.

"You're disappointed, aren't you?"

The question pulled him away from the thoughts of admiration to the enemy. The girl met his gaze, and despite the table between them decorated with desserts they barely touched, Xander saw his reflection in her black eyes. Not blue, nor gold and other notable colors, and yet they were bright and unyielding. It took his attention away from her clothes, too prude and up her neck. Somber in gray with no frills.

He was never updated on fashion, but the ladies of the capital would have at least covered their faces with fans in shame to wear one like hers. Even the girl in front of her seemed uncomfortable, pulling the high collar of her gown several times now, as if it choked her.

"I would be," she added, "if I will be your fiancee."

Her name is Lady Diana Alcotta, the second child and only daughter, step-daughter to be exact, of Baron Alcotta who ruled a small island in the northeastern waters. Though a noble, the Alcottas were almost unheard of in high society. Either they were poor or had little to no influence. According to his friend and closest aid Ysivan, Alcottas were both.

"Please do not degrade yourself. You have qualities fit to be my fiancee. More importantly, have we met before my lady?" He asked, browsing his memory where had he seen those eyes.

"Have we?" she threw back the question. "And if we did, someone like me has nothing much to be remembered."

"Surely, you have remarkable qualities unique to yourself."

"Such as?"

Xander smiled, the kind he used to stall time as he thinks. But her gaze never strayed from him despite the blush creeping up to her cheeks.

"I may be just a poor noble, but I am not a fool. I know why I am here."

Xander did not reply and studied the girl in front of her, squirming and pink, uncomfortable but not afraid. Despite it all, she knows the situation rather than being smitten by the title of a prince's fiancee–a bastard, but a prince nonetheless.

"Then, are you against this?" he asked, amused by the possibility that he will be rejected instead.

She shook her head, a few strands of her straight black hair swayed despite the silver clip, with which he assumed has fake ruby on it.

"Instead of the flower, you got the thorn. But, if you want the throne, this thorn can help you. You won't need to marry me. I just need you to take me away as your fiancee for now. In return... you'll be named Gran Dacchia."