Not Your Princess

Chapter Three

All Asch can do in the carriage ride is focus on her breathing. Her stepmother's words repeat in her mind. No one can know the truth of what truly happened to your father. Not even your husband.

What happened to Robert was truly awful. One minute, he was yelling at Asch for her mistake— hurling obscenities. The next he was grabbing her, trying to throw her onto the ground so that he could beat her.

Asch had simply wanted to get away through any means possible. And her hands responded by lighting Robert on fire. The fire had started in her hands and then spread through her fingertips onto the material of the shirt she was clutching onto.

The flame had been angry and unyielding, quickly consuming her father's entire body. His eyes lost all trace of that hateful rage he had moments before. Instead, he was full of surprise and fear.

The look on his face is what's haunting Asch the most.

Prince Augustus repositions himself in his seat for the fourth time. He has been very careful when it comes to touching her. Though they sit side-by-side, August has made sure that Asch is given the space that she needs. She's thankful for that, since the space he is providing her with is allowing for her to settle the flame within her.

After it made itself known, Asch could feel it like a living being. It is coiled deep inside of her chest, shaped like a snake.

"Is there anything that you like to do in your free time?" The prince asks her in a kind tone. Asch turns her head so that she can get a good look at him. "You will have quite a bit of free time for yourself for the first few years at court. So, I can arrange for people to fetch you things."

Thus far, August has seemed genuine. Never pushing too much, always asking the easy questions. If Asch didn't know any better, she would claim that the prince is not all that upset about the accidental marriage dilemma they are now facing.

"Reading," she answers. "I spend a lot of time reading."

August's face lights up. "Then you're in luck. The royal library has the largest assortment of books in the kingdom."

He turns his head away as if he is content with the small amount of interaction. "What about you?" Asch finds herself questioning. She waits until August's attention is back on her before she continues. "Do you have free time to do things that you enjoy?"

Across from the pair, Henrick loudly scoffs. "Enough free time to end up in an accidental marriage," he mutters.

"Not often," August responds. There's a sort of silencing aggression in his tone. His gaze darts between Henrick and Asch before he turns to fully face his wife. "When I do, I enjoy playing instruments and occasionally walking through the palace gardens."

The carriage jostles around before slowly coming to a stop. They haven't been on the road that long, so it's difficult for Asch to believe that they are already at the palace. "Are we already there?" She questions.

Shaking his head, August nods his head toward the curtained window. "Not quite. We came here to get you a dress."

"Because dressing her in fancy silks will anger your father less," Henrick adds in.

Finally giving the man her attention, Asch gives him an annoyed glare. "What have I done to offend you?" She demands.

Henrick looks down at the girl. His eyes tell her that she is not worth even seconds of his time. Before he gives her a response, though, August jumps in to mediate. "Henrick just needs a reminder that you are now his princess." August's eyes train on the man occupying the seat in front of them.

Seconds later, the carriage door opens on August's side. The prince is the first to climb out, turning around immediately afterward to help Asch out of the vehicle.

She takes his hand, surprised at the softness of it. Avoiding the gaze of all the guards, Asch stares at the shop in front of her. She has passed this store so many times, but refused to enter since the fine silks would only anger her father.

Many times after Rosetta's death, Robert told Asch that she was undeserving of pretty things. Girls that are blessed by the god of death don't deserve nice things.

The newlyweds enter the shop side by side, looking more like awkward friends than a couple. Prince Augustus opens the door for his wife, gesturing her inside. He gives her a slight nod, ever the gentleman.

Gaze landing on all of the premade dresses, Asch stares at the splashes of colors that overwhelm her vision. The colors in front of her are completely dizzying. As though she is walking through a warped rainbow.

"Go ahead and pick out any dress that you would like," August states. He offers her a warm smile when she turns to look at him.

She looks back at the sea of dresses spanning in front of her. It will take her forever to go through all the colors. None of them stand out to her in an appealing way.

If her sister were here, she would give Asch a color selection to help her choose.

"What's your favorite color?" Asch finds herself asking the prince.

He looks down at her with a startled expression. Their eyes meet as he searches for the answer of an unspoken question. "Green," he responds after a few heartbeats pass. "One of the darkest shades."

Searching the dresses for the greens, Asch moves toward the back of the store. There are very few dark green dresses, but each one of them are absolutely stunning. One dress in particular stands out the most.

Its thin straps hold sheer, short sleeves that would rest on the top of an individual's arm. Vine like designs spiral around the bodice, slipping into the skirts of the dress.

Without trying the dress on, it's difficult to determine how long the skirts fall. She has a feeling that it caresses the floor, however. A pair of silver shoes rests on the hanger that is holding the dress, indicating that they come with it.

Pulling the dress from the wrack, Asch searches for the changing section.

It takes her a minute to put on the dress by herself due to the corset's thick straps. Asch manages just fine, though, exiting the room without looking at herself in the mirror. She doesn't want to see the face that will look back at her. The face of her father's murderer.

August waits in the spot she had left him. Henrick, the diligent guard, stands beside him. He rests a hand on the pommel of his dagger, the silent promise of death to anyone who moves the wrong way.

When August brings his gaze to Asch's direction, his breath catches in his throat. His brown eyes trail her entire body before moving back to her face. He looks at her as if she is the most beautiful woman he has seen his entire life.

"You are absolutely stunning," August claims.

Henrick gives her a bored look, but makes no comment. He only watches her carefully while August approaches her.

The prince awkwardly stands before her. She knows that he wants to do something— touch her face, kiss her, or perhaps even hug her— but he does none of those things.

Swallowing back her fear, Asch reaches her hands out to take hold of one of his. "Thank you for buying me a dress," she replies. A smile grows across her face.

Using his free hand, August brushes a curl out of her bronzed face. "You are my wife." He studies her as though he is etching her face into memory. "As long as that fact remains true, you will want for nothing."

After a few seconds, Henrick steps closer to the pair. There's no hostility visible on his face whilst he looks between Asch and August. "We best be on our way if we want to meet with the king before sundown," he claims.

Bile rises in the girl's throat while August steps away from her. Somehow, she forgot that they were ultimately going to have to inform the king of the mistake that they made last night.

Part of Asch is afraid that the king will try to find a way to get August to leave the marriage. There are several methods that the man could use - most of which involve Asch losing her head.

Keeping their fingers interlaced, Asch uses August for strength while they walk back to their carriage.