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“Megara you need to behave yourself today.”
“I’ll behave if you stop calling me that.”
“Mind that tongue of yours my lady.” Her father was glaring now, and Meg turned her head way from the mirror and his disapproving glare.
“I don’t see anything wrong with Meg. It’s just as elegant and people can pronounce it without sounding like they’re trying to juggle marbles with their tongue.” She reasoned while dabbing a bit of gloss over her lips.
“This is the most important day of your young life my daughter,” He reminded her. As if yesterday’s reminder wasn’t heard. Or the reminder last night. Or the reminder this morning. “You’re meeting your betrothal. I’d prefer if the meeting went smoothly.”
“That’s because it’s your most important day.” Meg muttered under her breath with a deep sigh. A warm hand clamped down on her shoulder. Meg stiffed with the mascara brush clutched in her fingers. “I will behave Father.” She promised, loud and clear.
“Good.” He said. His hand tightened as he leaned forward to press his face alongside her. Meg stared at their reflection in the vanity mirror. They looked nothing alike. Her father was all broad shoulders, dirty blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a dazzling smile that had ruled this kingdom for three decades. Meg was more like her mother in appearance with dark black hair in ringlets rolling over her shoulders, pale skin, and dark brown eyes. “You look beautiful.” He whispered in her ear, smiling as he drew away and left the room.
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The meeting went almost exactly as Meg had expected. Everyone was in fancy garb, ladies were in elegant dresses with their hair in obnoxious up-dos and waving fans around like it was the French Renaissance. Men were in suits, or at least vests and dress pants, cigars and champagne glasses between their fingers while they smiled and tried to flirt with all the single bachelorettes. Music poured throughout the room from the full band in the corner, servers weaved in and around the crowd with appetizers, glasses of wine and champagne. Meg reached for the nearest one by her, not caring what she received so long as it was alcohol and she could drink it quickly.
White wine. Wonderful.
Meg swallowed down the last bit and placed the glass down just as her father reappeared, accompanied by three others. One was an older gentleman, who was much shorter, and had something of a nervous smile on his face. Meg managed to quick a smile and bowed her head politely in greeting. The other was a woman who was eying Meg like she was a front-window mannequin with a displeasing outfit from the next spring line. The third was a young man at least her age, maybe in his early twenties with dark hair standing at all ends and bright blue eyes. He looked extremely uncomfortable in his fitted suit, and he kept flexing his fingers at his side. He wouldn’t catch Meg’s eye, but when Meg turned away, she could feel his gaze on her.
“Your Grace, if I may present my daughter, Megara.” He introduced, and Meg tried not to grit her teeth. She forced a smile, and then remembered that this was the Duke, and his family, and blue-eyes was probably her betrothal, so she bowed lightly. She was the princess after all. They ought to be fawning over her. Not the other way around…
“You look lovely,” The man said, a small stutter to his voice. “This is my wife, Rebecca, and our son, Castiel.”
Now blue-eyes was forced to look at her, and damn those eyes. They were intense, and they only lingered on Meg’s face. There was not up-down-disapproving-appraising glance. He gave her a gentle smile, and stepped forward to take her hand. His fingers were warm and soft when he brushed his lips over her knuckles. Chapped lips…but his gaze never wavered from hers.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” He spoke and Meg swallowed discreetly. That voice. Deeper than she would have imagined for a twenty-something-year-old. He was still holding her hand, and Meg pulled away gently.
“Likewise.” Meg answered tightly, because her father was still standing at her side and the show must go on…
“Why don’t we leave you two to get better acquainted?” The Duke asked, glancing between his wife and Meg’s father. They both tossed the new couple a quick glance. The Duchess nodded tartly and turned away. Meg’s father pressed a hand to her arm in silent reminder, and left with the Duke.
Castiel visibly relaxed a degree once their parents had left. “I must say—”
“Let’s just get one thing straight here angel,” Meg started, and if her voice was tart, it couldn’t be helped. “I don’t like this situation we’ve landed in, but I’m not much of a Daddy’s girl so I couldn’t talk myself out of it. You’re cute, don’t get me wrong, but don’t expect me to fawn over you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread because I have seen much better.” That last bit may have been a lie. Meg had never seen eyes like that, nor hair that didn’t seem to want to smooth down, or a face so serious…but she wasn’t about to tell him all that.
Castiel stared at her for a moment, blinking. Slowly he smiled, and then he laughed quietly. While Meg stood with a raised eye brow, Castiel stopped the nearest server and took two glasses from the tray. He handed one to Meg, that smug grin still on his face.
“In all honesty, Princess,” Castiel spoke, and Meg wished her heart race didn’t peak. Her title…usually she hated it…but in his voice… “I wouldn’t dream of you accepting me after just one meeting and a passing glance. I know this is arranged without our knowledge long before we could barely walk.” He reasoned, stepping closer to speak quietly to her. “And to be perfectly honest, I don’t particularly enjoy the situation either…but—”
“There’s always a but…” Meg muttered, taking a large sip from her glass. Champagne. Yum.
“I would ask you…no, I ought to beg you—” Castiel corrected, his grin turning soft and gentle. “To not dismiss the thought entirely.”
“Already asking for my hand in marriage?” Meg asked with a dry laugh. “I’m not some girl who goes with you after the first drink good sir.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it Princess,” Castiel agreed, his voice deep again. “Perhaps dinner then?” He took a sip from his glass, and Meg was not staring at how his tongue pressed against the edge of the glass or how his lips were wet after the sip.
“Perhaps…” Meg reasoned.
“Or we could go for a walk in the garden.” Castiel offered, off-handedly. “I heard it’s quite beautiful outside.”
Meg grinned. “Anything to get out of this stuffy room.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Castiel admitted, holding his arm out to her. Meg wrapped her fingers around the crook of his arm. Well…maybe this Castiel wasn’t so bad…Meg thought as they snuck through the crowd and out the back door. As soon as they were free of condescending eyes, Castiel loosened his tie, undid the first few buttons of his shirt and un-cuffed his sleeves. Meg smirked, and she unbuckled her heels, letting her toes sink into the grass.
“Not a bad idea angel,” Meg sighed, the sunlight warm against the cool autumn air.
“Angel, so you know where my name comes from…” Castiel said, scratching at the back of his neck.
“Mmm, there’s little I don’t know, despite what anyone may tell you,” Meg explained. “Never mistake my silence for ignorance and we’ll get along just fine.”
“Duly noted.” Castiel nodded with that small gentle smile on his face. They walked deep into the garden, the music of the party far behind them. The silence between them was comfortable and when Meg looked back up at Castiel, she had a sudden urge to kiss that damn smile off his face. Well…no one was around…
“There is one way we can decide right here and now if this is worth any of our time,” Meg said, turning to step in front of Castiel. His gaze never left her face. Not once did his eyes wander over her while she was staring at him. He tilted his head curiously, but that smile was becoming something of a smirk.
“How so, Princess?” Castiel asked quietly. Meg chuckled. She tossed her glass to the side and wound her arms around Castiel’s neck. He caught on to what she was doing as her head tilted up, and he met her half way. Those chapped lips of his were actually soft and gentle when they brushed against Meg’s. It was sweet, and nice. Meg could feel his hands wounding behind her back, palms pressing against her hips, and Meg felt the heat of his touch through the fabric of her dress. She pulled him closer, deepened the kiss, and Castiel didn’t miss a beat. He tilted his head and parted his lips. Damn this man could kiss. Meg felt herself slip into the embrace when Castiel’s tongue traced her lips, but he held her upright, and only stopped when Meg drew away to breathe.
Meg let out a breath but she didn’t move. Her lips tingled, her heart was racing, and the pressure of his mouth was still there. Meg blinked up at him, and he looked wrecked. Those blue eyes were blown wide, he was taking deep breaths against her face, and that smile was completely gone.
“Did that satisfy you Princess?” Castiel wondered, and that voice was even deeper now than it had been before the kiss.
“It would satisfy me greatly if you’d call me Meg,” She murmured, a breath away from his lips.
“Of course,” Castiel nodded gently. “Did that satisfy you Meg?”
“I think we should try it again…” Meg whispered. “Just to be sure.”
Castiel chuckled, and Meg felt the rumble against his chest. “As you wish.”