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A carriage sits outside the large castle gate. The outside is a rich purple, like the plump grapes that grow around the vineyard. Two horses stand at the front, pawing at the grass. The driver snoozes in the front, his head to his chest, snoring loudly.
Nico can suspect why the carriage sits outside. His father had been threatening a marriage if Nico could not find someone nearby. Attempts were made, but no one could satiate his need for the blond medic.
He begrudgingly makes it into the castle. Immediately he is seized by a man in his fathers court. He shakes and sends Nico worried glances, as if his father will send him to his death if Nico doesn’t cooperate.
The throne room exudes a coldness. The windows provide stale light, almost nothing in the blackness of the room. The onyx throne his father sits upon leeches any form of light from the people around it. All, except for the king himself, seem to be slowly drained of life.
At the foot of the throne stands a man and a girl. The man carries himself with importance. His purple cape sits on his high shoulders. A crown presses into his slicked, black hair.
The girl stands similarly, shoulders high, chin pointed up. Her energy doesn’t seem leeched, if anything she seems to power it. She doesn’t need a crown to show her status, she is a princess through and through. If Nico didn’t know, he’d think she was one of the female warriors that runs from kingdom to kingdom.
His father catches Nico’s eye. For a second, his face slips from the impassive calm into anger. He schools it just as fast, smiling civilly.
“My son,” Hades greets. True to his namesake, he brings an aura of terror. “So glad you could join us.”
“It’s a pleasure,” Nico spits. He finds no need to cover his distaste. If all goes well the king and princess will be sent away. From the way Hades smiles, Nico fears his hopes will not come to fruition.
“King Julian,” Hades addresses. “This is my son, Niccolò. Your daughter's husband.”
The proclamation sits heavy in the dark room. Nausea churns in Nico’s stomach. He is not to be a husband, not to a woman at least.
King Julian huffs. “You are getting ahead of yourself, Hades. I’ve said in my letters, Reyna will not marry your son until he is king. Only then will our alliance be sealed.”
Hades’ smile dips into a scowl. “Yes,” he grits, “you’ve mentioned it a few times.”
“Good,” King Julian says. “Hades, we should let the children meet. If you make good on your promise, they will be well acquainted soon.”
Nico nearly gags at the insinuation. He can tell by the girl's face that she thinks similarly. Maybe this will be less painful.
“Yes,” Hades agrees. “Niccolò, take Reyna to the parlor. You can properly speak there.”
Nico storms out of the throne room. He does not check if Reyna is following, but heeled boots click behind him. He imagines the girl is Will, running around the palace in secret, the thought is nice, but he knows it isn’t reality.
The parlor is a stark contrast to the throne room. Floor to ceiling windows let in burning light, coloring the uncomfortable furniture in rays. Flowers bloom around the room, compliments to his stepmother who can’t be without florals.
Nico stands awkwardly in the middle of the parlor. Reyna stands too, hovering in the doorway in case a hasty retreat is in order. Nico avoids eye contact, as does Reyna.
Nico is fine with staying silent the whole time. The silence provides more time to fantasize about Will. He thinks of how nice it would be to have Will in the parlor with him, lounging on the chaise, kissing languidly. How the sun would cover him in gold, painting him like a statue of Apollo himself.
He is so out of it he doesn’t realize Reyna is speaking. When he blinks himself back to reality, he realizes she is staring at him intently.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “Could you repeat that?”
She rolls her eyes, but repeats herself anyway. “I do not wish to marry you.”
That is a relief. He knows it would crush most boys his age. That rejection from a princess, a girl at all, should have him wailing and begging for her hand, but all Nico feels is pure relief.
“I don’t wish for it either.”
She nods, satisfied with her piece. “I was hoping you’d agree. This arrangement would be far worse if you were looking forward to this.”
“The same could be said for you,” Nico comments. “I would not want to waste your time.”
“I assure you,” Reyna starts, “I do not wish to be someone’s wife. I do not need to be tied down.”
“This marriage is purely to spite my refusal to marry,” Nico admits. “I’ve been quite successful in my evasion, but he has gone behind my back with this one.”
Reyna huffs a laugh, similar to her father’s. “My father is the same. He is using yours, you know? He’s greedy, our marriage, the alliance gained by it, will feed his war hungry mind. We are pawns to him, pieces on a board he thinks he can control.”
Nico gapes. “And I thought my father could not be worse?” Then he smirks. “I suppose we should make the most of our father’s game?”
Reyna smiles, devilish and cunning. “I suppose we shall.”