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During…
"Ginevra, you have no choice. You must marry."
Ginny sighed. She was a warrior and a leader. And most importantly, she was the reason that they had turned the tide in this God-forsaken war.
But it didn't matter; the blood that flowed through her veins was pure and Royal, and therefore it was the only thing about her that carried worth in their eyes.
The most valuable pawn in their game. But she was no pawn. She was the Queen.
For the sake of her kingdom–her people–she would agree. She would trade her bow and her sword and play their games.
And she would win.
"If I do, then it shall be on my terms and no others."
—
Before…
His fingers were gentle in her hair as he wove them through her ginger tresses.
This was forbidden, and he knew it. But he could not stay away. She was the reason he traded favours and dealt in whispers. The reason he was tempted to give up god and country to remain by her side.
She was his salvation and his temptation.
He loved her, but he would not be able to keep her, he knew. She was a warrior, a goddess, a commoner—and he was their hidden prince.
Their last hope.
And so, with one last kiss to her temple, as she slept in the aftermath of their lovemaking, he stole away in the night, forced to do a duty and take a mantle he never wanted.
But, he wished that fate would let him stay by her side.
—
After…
"Blaise, you must meet the delegation as they arrive. There is no excuse for your morose behaviour."
There was every reason for his melancholy behaviour, but he would never be able to tell them why. The war was won, and their tiny kingdom saved. Now, it was time to do his duty.
His hand in marriage were the spoils of this war, and to keep his people safe, he would do their bidding and take a wife.
But he would not love their chosen bride, because he still thought of her —even a year later.
Pushing the thoughts out of his head, he finally descended the unfamiliar palace steps to meet the woman he was betrothed to. Her kingdom operated in the shadows, but they had made ruthless moves in order to join his hand to their Queen’s. He couldn't help but wonder why.
As the trumpets sounded and the carriages arrived, his future bride stepped out onto the gilded steps. She commanded the eye of everyone in the palace even though her face was hidden from view. Blaise wiped sweaty palms against the fabric of his jacket, resigning himself to this future.
His future wife did not walk like a woman nervous of what lay ahead. Instead, her steps were sure and steady, determined and brave. She did not bow before him when she reached her destination but stood before him as an equal when she revealed herself to the crowd with a devilish smirk.
And just like that, Blaise's entire future changed as he stared into her bright blue eyes, his breath stolen by the fire glinting from her hair.
"It's you," he whispered.
"Pleasure to meet you, your Grace," she intoned with a knowing, beautiful smile. "I'm here to offer my hand in marriage to you and your Kingdom."
Fate, it seemed, was kind.