Maxon's Secret Sister

Part 2

When I walk into Father's office he doesn't brighten like Mother would've. He doesn't immediately crack a joke like Maxon would've. He just motions me over. 

"Audra," he greets me.

"Father," I reply

"I'm sure you know what that letter yesterday contained," he begins. I give him a nod. "The prince from New Asia has agreed to meet on Monday." I give him a surprised look. 

"I know," he says. "It's soon. But the staff and your mother are already planning and setting up. I need you for a different reason." He pauses there and gives me a second to process. I suspect what he will say next, and in desperation, I try to stop it.

"Father, please don't make me go through with this, I don't want to marry some random guy to make sure your alliances are safe. I don't want to leave here, I don't want-" Mid speech he cuts me off and before I realize it, tears are silently streaming down the sides of my face. 

"Audra, we've gone over this," my father is unhappy. He puts his hands on the desk to emphasize his point. "I've given you an extra year. Most girls at this time would've been gone already." 

"But, father," I begin. 

"No. This decision is final. Your brother will start his selection in less than a month, and I will not have you here while he does it." He lets that settle for a moment and then leans forward menacingly. 

"And let me make one thing very clear. The prince will not come to know that you are not genetically the princess." His tone now was low, dangerous. Tears still running, I only nod. 

.    .    .

The next two days are mayhem. Preparing for visitors from New Asia required all staff that weren't currently occupied to be helping with the setup. By Monday there were three massive tents behind the palace, with everything the visitors may need. 

Meanwhile, I'm a wreck. I know I have to make a good impression on the prince, but a part of me doesn't want to obey my father's plan. 

Eventually, gradually, the visitors arrive. Almost immediately, I see the prince, and my first impression is not a good one. 

He looks smug, which doesn't sit well with me. His dark brown almost black hair falls in waves across the sides of his head. His jawline is defined, and his eyebrows are arched in such a way that it gives him an amused expression. 

It takes him a couple of minutes to make his way toward me. Once he does, he smiles at me. Considering we're both royalty, he bows, and I curtsy. 

Over dinner, we talk. I learn his name is Wesley. Wesley. Wesley. My mind plays around with the name. Several times I have to remind myself to be friendly, but his personality isn't exactly compatible with mine. 

And my Father expects me to marry him.