Chapter Text
“Your Highness?”
Curt sighed, casting his gaze away from the window and to the only person he could trust- his servant and friend, Barb. “Yes, Barb?”
Barb looked nervous, though that was likely because she didn’t like the situation any more than he did. “We’re almost to Carvour Palace.”
“Wonderful,” Curt replied, rolling his eyes.
Their two kingdoms had been warring for longer than Curt had been alive. Carvonya had finally backed them into a corner, and they were forced to broker a treaty. It came with one large requirement on their part:
Curt had to marry the heir to the Carvonyan throne and unite the two kingdoms under a peaceful rule.
If he didn’t do it, they would decimate his people, so he was forced to agree. He’d never even met the Carvour heir, growing up a sheltered child far away from the dangers of the war, so he didn’t know anything about his husband-to-be.
Barb patted his knee reassuringly, sensing his sour mood. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, Your Highness.”
“I hope so.”
The two of them sat in silence for the rest of the ride. Eventually, the carriage rolled to a stop outside of the palace gates.
It was grand- almost as grand as Palace de Mega- with tall spires and white stone. Curt could see the appeal to living there, but his heart ached for the comfort of his childhood home, made of marble and bordering the sea.
Anxiety gnawed at Curt’s insides as the gates opened and the carriage continued its way inside. Up until now, his impending marriage was a false monster; one that wasn’t real, something he could pretend didn’t exist if he just closed his eyes. Now that he was here, it was an inevitability, and that made it all the more terrifying.
Curt took a steadying breath and masked his nerves with an expression of stoicism. A servant opened the door to the carriage, and he stepped out onto the cobblestone. The cold air bit his cheeks, and he was glad he was wearing his warmest fur cloak over his tunic.
The servant bowed quickly, before leading him and Barb off inside the palace. Curt kept his eyes trained straight ahead, avoiding looking like he was captivated by the grandeur of the halls. It wouldn’t do to show a sign of weakness.
They were brought into the throne room, and Curt clenched his jaw so as to not gape at the opulence. The red-painted room was adorned with gold trimmings, with tall white columns near the back where the thrones sat. The ceiling was a high dome that had an ornate chandelier dangling from the center.
Standing by the throne were two men and a woman- the King, the Prince and someone who was most likely his servant. The King hardly held Curt’s attention; his eyes were glued to his fiancé.
Prince Owen Michael Carvour III stood tall, hands clasped behind his back. A golden crown sat atop his dark hair, and he was wearing a dark blue tunic with a white sash and trousers. His cape was the same color of the walls. Curt, despite knowing his cloak was made of the finest ermine fur available, suddenly felt inadequate.
Curt and Barb stopped an appropriate distance from the throne, and the Carvonyan trio made their way down to greet them. Curt felt hot under his collar.
The servant that had led them in cleared his throat. “Presenting Prince Curtis Laurent Mega IV and his servant Lady Barbara Lavernor.”
Barb dipped into a low curtsey, and Curt bowed his head slightly lower than he would have a few minutes ago.
Prince Owen stepped closer to them, and Curt quietly sucked in a breath. He gestured slightly to indicate he wanted Curt’s hand, and he gave it to the barely taller man.
Prince Owen pressed a delicate kiss to Curt’s knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
A tingle ran through Curt’s body. “The pleasure is all mine.”