Creperum

Chapter Three

No sooner than I had sat did something fly at my face. My head snapped to the side when the folding fan struck me, cutting my cheek just below my eye. The sting was momentarily blinding. Softly, Abigail gasped, but no one spoke before my Mother, whose words were acid. 

"Did you really think I wouldn't find out?" She scoffed. "I saw you with him, Lyra. I saw you on the balcony. Alone, with a man, before you are married, are you trying to ruin my life?" 

"No, he found me -" I tried to explain. Another slap from her fan, but this one didn't break skin, only deepened the first laceration. 

"Such a cheap excuse. If you wish to act as the harlot after your marriage, be my guest, but keep your nose clean before then. I see my moving into the castle will be a much needed addition in your life. You are useless."  

"Move in? Mother, I don't need you to hover over me. I can take care of myself." I argued. I thought she would strike me again, but she just laughed. A sharp, mocking sound that hurt as bad as the cut. 

"Really, Lyra, that's a good one. As soon as you're married, I'll be here to fill in the spot for Queen Consort. Someone will need to make sure you make all the right decisions." 

"You think I'm incapable of making the right decisions?" 

"You don't know the first thing about being Queen." Her words were a confounded insult. Suddenly, the room seemed small and suffocating. Tears brimmed in my eyes so that I kept them down in shame. I left without saying anything, marching down the hallway. 

I can't say she was wrong, but if I couldn't convince her that I'd be the Queen she never got to be, I'd just have to prove it.

 The King, I was told, always retired to the throne room after his last meal of the day. I flung the door open and marched in, where indeed I found him sitting. Somehow, he didn't look surprised to see me. 

"What happened to your face?" He asked nonchalantly, as if he already knew the answer. Perhaps he could hear her screaming at me all the way from here. 

"Yes." I answered, ignoring him. 

He looked down on me from his perch. "Yes what?" I took a deep breath, mustering the words from deep within me. This will be temporary, I reminded myself. 

"I'll marry him. We begin wedding preparations tomorrow. A small ceremony, with only Nocturne's most influential figures. We'll hold a ball in celebration." 

"Quite demanding for a princess, don't you think?" The King chuckled. I was fully aware that he likely didn't know about the argument between my Mother and I, but still I felt with the look he gave me - the all knowing look - that I was being understood for the first time in my life. 

"Every princess must be crushed by the queen she's meant to become. A princess is weak, miserable, naive to what it takes to survive. The princess I am now needs to die, and the sooner the better." 

How I would live to regret those words. 

 A month passed without incident, until one day it was announced that the preparations would begin. If Maverick was informed that I'd accepted the marriage proposal, he didn't say anything. We spoke on occasion, but just when I felt I'd cracked his exterior he'd manage to put a blockade in my path and I'd be left looking at a stranger once again. 

Much to Hrothgar's influence, I'd agreed upon a theme of green and gold (why Hrothgar found these colors so beloved, I'll never know, but if it pleased him it was good enough for me) and was told the dressmaker would make the journey to see me, likely arriving some time the next afternoon.