The Deady Prince

Ah, this was it, then. Plegian roses in her hands, blood red and deeply fragrant, the petals trembling along with her hands. She took a deep breath, grounding herself in the manner she did before battle. Her mother probably would have laughed at that, lightly, gently. She suppressed a pang of emotion at the absence of her mother.

The music began to swell- it was gentle, lilting, with a steady, rhythmic beat to it. It was much more vibrant than the wedding music of Ylisseans. She decided that she liked it.

The doors opened. She opened her eyes. He was waiting for her.

◤ ♔ ◥                Finally the moment everybody was waiting for. Some just for what she would be wearing, and that would suddenly become the new trend, and other’s to see if she would actually accept becoming Plegian royalty.

                             He was just happy that she did actually leave the room and come to the main hall. He was so worried that she wouldn’t, that she’d left and went off to go marry some nice Ylissean man. He barely even realized he’d been holding his breath the whole time.

                            Though her appearance only made it worse. Seeing her face relaxed him, yes, but seeing the dress and the flowers reminded him that it was no dream. It was a thing that actually was happening, and he needed to pull himself together.

                             Do that, and also stop ogling his bride to be. Crimson stained his cheeks, as his mouth hung open. She was breathtakingly gorgeous, more so than she usually was. He wondered what he looked like compared to her, in a suit that he purposely left two holes unbuttoned and his tie lazily hanging from his neck.

The maids flitted about her, fixing this and adjusting that, humming and laughing and talking excitedly. Meanwhile, her hands trembled, every so slightly.

This was… actually happening to her. She would walk through those chamber doors, before a crowd of people, and she was going to be married. By the day’s end, she was going to have a husband. Her stomach danced as she bit her lip, wanting to play with her hair. 

                             He couldn’t blame her if that was the case, and it probably wouldn’t be the most embarrassing thing that happened to him. It would hurt though. She was the first one he loved.

                             So he fiddled with his eye patch to keep him distracted. His mother made a noise at him, which probably would’ve made him stop, but he was already anxious. He only played with it more at her noises.