Chapter Text
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I’m sitting in my room practicing piano when there’s a knock on my door. I pause my practice and nod at Margaret, who in turn lets my guests in. My parents. My mother dismisses Margaret, and with a curtsy and a parting glance, she leaves the room.
I embrace my parents and invite them to sit. Once they’re situated, I pour some of the tea Margaret had brought me up a few moments before. My mother takes a few sips of her tea before beginning to speak. “Amber, are you familiar with the term arranged marriage?”
“Of course,” I reply. “Why?”
“Since you’re thirteen years old,” my father says. “We figured you were old enough to know and mature enough to understand.”
“Know what?”
“Are you familiar with the Brudel kingdom?” My mother asks me.
“Yes, they’re the neighboring kingdom. They have a son my age, Prince Malik, and a daughter a year younger, Princess Tori.”
My father lays it all out. “You and Prince Malik have been engaged since birth.”
I have to fight to keep my cup of tea in my hands. “What?”
“The Brudel kingdom has always been our strongest ally and largest trading partner,” my father continues explaining. “So we made an arrangement to strengthen that alliance.”
“By trading your children? ” I demand.
“ Amber, ” my mother scolds.
I take a deep breath. “I apologize for losing my temper. It’s just that I’ve always found arranged marriages to be archaic and unjust, not to mention this union would make no sense.”
My mother raises an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”
“I am the sole heir to our crown, and Prince Malik is the heir to his. How can you arrange the marriage of two heirs?”
“Originally,” my father says. “The plan was to merge our two kingdoms upon your marriage. However, when Princess Tori came along, it was decided that she will inherit the throne to the Brudel kingdom, and you the throne to ours.”
I take a deep breath and nod my head. “Very well. I’m not happy with it, but I understand that it is my duty as a Princess and heir. I will do it with my head held high, proud, for my people.”
My mother kisses my head. “Spoken like a true queen already.”
“So when do I meet him?”
“Oh, not for a while,” my father says. “You meet when you’re eighteen and will spend a year together, getting to know each other and planning the wedding. You’ll be married after a year.”
“Married at nineteen?” I ask. “You don’t think that’s too young?”
“I was nineteen when I married your father,” my mother informs me.
Okay. Arranged marriage. Married at nineteen. That’s six years from now. It’s okay, I can do this. I’ve been preparing for this sort of thing my whole life. “Very well then.”