Chapter 6
Duke Alaric and I spent the afternoon riding through Eboncourt. By the time his carriage returned me to House Croyden, the sun was already dipping low He gave me a quiet smile.
“Rest early,” he said. “At first light, the King’s herald and Chancellor will come bearing the royal proclamation.
I nodded, watching his carriage disappear down the drive before heading inside.
1 had barely stepped inside when someone grabbed me by the wrist–urgent, uninvited,
“Cecilia, don’t marry him,” Prince Edward hissed
1.yanked my arm free. “Your Highness, we are no longer engaged, Grabbing a noblewoman in the front hall of her family estate–do you not see how inappropriate this is?”
He stepped closer. “Alaric was poisoned years ago. The court physicians sald he wouldn’t live past thirty. Do you really want to marry into widowhood?“”
Smack
My hand struck his cheek before I even thought about it.
“I don’t care if you’re the Prince you don’t get to speak about him that way. He is to be my husband. And whether he lives for five years or fifty, I will stand beside him.”
“I am not like you, Edward. I don’t break my promises. I don’t run from commitment the second something prettier crosses my path.”
I straightened my spine. “Now please, for your own dignity, leave. Lady Rowens wouldn’t be pleased to hear of this little visit, would she? She tends to get jealous when you so much as look at another woman.
“And frankly, I don’t want my fiancé–the Duke of Northmarch–getting the wrong idea, either.”
Someone escort His Highness out,” I said calmly, already turning away.
But Edward rushed in front of me, blocking the door. “Cecilia, you love me. You always have. Are you really going to marry Alaric just to spite me?”
“Is this revenge?” His voice cracked. “You think I betrayed you, so now you’re throwing yourself at the man I fear most?”
“You know we could still be together. Just… forget the title. Forget the wedding. You and I, we don’t need all that
I stared at him. “You’re right about one thing, I do regret something.
His eyes lit up–hopeful, stupid.
* I regret ever agreeing to marry you
Ilirushed past him without another word
Behind me, his voice rose in desperation. “I’ll have Rowens titled as a lady–in–waiting or something lower, just don’t go through with the wedding ”
I didn’t even pause. I left him standing there, pathetic and furious, as the doors shut behind me.
Word spread last–Prince Edward had barged into the royal council chamber, red–eyed and desperate, pleading with His Majesty to overturn the match. He wanted the betrothal reinstated. And as for Ruwena? He offered to “settle her elsewhere“-no title, no recognition
For the first time in court history, the King struck his own sun across the face in front of the nobles.
“You tool,” he cluandered. “Do you know what it means to betroth a noble daughter? Cecilia was chosen by your mother and me. A match made with care
and you humiliated her days before the wedding, ”
“Now you want to undo the decree?” The King slammed his scepter to the floor. “You think royal promises are just words? That a prince’s whim outwight his path?”
“You’re confined to your chambers,” the King thundered, “until you remember what it means to be my son and my heir. You will attend no councils, receive no visitors, and your seal is to be withheld, Let that be your lesson.”
The lords and ladies of the realm weren’t fools—they saw the change in Prince Edward. His defiance had faded, replaced now by hesitation… and regret.
At dawn, a royal envoy arrived at House Croyden, bearing the King’s sealed writ: a marriage between Lady Cecilia and the Duke of Northmarch, Lanctioned by Crown and Council
It was a declaration that made waves across Eboncourt.
Chucker 6
Ask Al Experience
Despite his standing, Duke Alaric had never wed. And the nobility knew well–he was granted the rare right to choose his bride without council. interference. That he allowed the royal decree to stand… spoke volumes.
Suddenly, everyone wanted to be our friend.
The stream of nobles, envoys, and social climbers nearly trampled our gate. My parents were swamped for days, accepting gifts and well–wishes, smiling until their cheeks ached.
I had expected many familiar faces to come offer congratulations. What I hadn’t expected… was Rowena
She came without her usual arrogance no whip in hand, no riding boots, no scarlet cloak. Just a pale gown of soft moonlit silk, styled demurely like any other noble daughter.
But her face was tired, her eyes ringed in red.
She stared
for a long moment, then said, “You must be thrilled with yourself.”
I tilted my head. “I’m sorry?”
“The Crown Prince has been confined for your sake. You’re marrying the Duke of Northmarch. You’ve outmatched me on every front. I bet you’re savoring this–waiting to see me humiliated.”
I raised a brow. “You give yourself far too much importance, Lady Rowena. You were never even on my mind. ‘
She blinked, stunned.
“We don’t live in the same world, you and 1,” I went on. “You have your life. I have mine. And His Majesty’s decree has nothing to do with spite or competition”
“You’re already engaged to the Crown Prince. Perhaps focus on that instead of picking lights with
I turned to go, then paused.
“Oh, and by the way,” I added with a faint smile, “after I marry the Duke, you’ll have to address me with a little more respect. Next time we mee remember your rank.
meet,
Ask Al
