For the Better Story (Empires Smp Joel and Lizzie)

Legend Has it

Lesson 45: Successful Leaders Remain Fully-Committed Until Their Mission Is Finished

Joel groaned as light spilled into his room, a servant throwing open the drapes, and curled up tighter under his sheets. He could hear maids and butlers rushing about his room, scurrying in and out with fresh towels and pitchers of water for his bath, and opening dressers and closets, looking for the certain outfit for the special occasion.

Joel had been training his entire life for this day. He knew the procedures and formalities like the back of his hand, and the words for the ceremony were embedded into his brain. But despite all of it-

Prince Joel was not ready for his wedding day.

"Your Highness!"

The strict voice of his tutor made him sit up quickly, snapping to attention. He looked up at the woman, observing her sharp posture, slim gown, and powerful eyes. She had made his life a living nightmare since the day he was told he'd be married.

Tutor Olana was his mentor and teacher right from the start. The day the war ended she was assigned to Joel, and from then onward she was as powerful as Aeor. She ruled her one-person kingdom with an iron fist, and though Joel knew she meant well, when he was younger she was the devil itself. She made sure he knew his vows, his kingdom, his world like a second nature. But not in the kindest way. Joel remembered late nights, as he recited passages from memory, the slightest stutter earning a smack against his desk with an "AGAIN!" and stumbling off to bed when he finally got it right, in the wee hours of the morning.

Tutor Olana had put the fear of Aeor into him, embedded in his heart so he may never forget the consequences of stepping out of line.

"You cannot choose this special occasion to sleep in. Get up!"

Joel did not reply, earning a smack on the back of his head, but he stood and began to ready himself for the day, grabbing a towel from a nearby maid and hurriedly going to the bathroom, taking a very rushed bath and then, with his still damp hair, rushing for the closet.

Other servants were already there, waiting with the most formal outfit he had: a purple jacket with intricate golden embroidery, a moss colored sash with orange designs, white kid gloves, dress pants, formal boots, and jewelry made of the royal ore- Dravite Tourmaline.

Joel took his time dressing, knowing Olana would kill him if even a tiny detail was off. He stood in the mirror for some time after that, examining every inch of his outfit, smoothing out wrinkles and finally brushing his fingers along the single Dravite earing before jumping back into action. He met his tutor in the hall, going over his procedures for the ceremony once more and then pushed back into his room, alone this time, to think and to pray and to ready himself for what was to come. It was then that Joel began to let his mind rant.

Joel had never met his future bride. He had been told from the start it was his duty to marry her, his service to the kingdom, kingdoms, that he would solidify a miraculous and historical alliance, but he was never told any details about her. But he had a pretty good idea.

The Ocean Empire was a proud nation that had quarreled with Mezalea for centuries. Until the war was over, Joel had grown up on his superiors' curses on the nation, insults that the Ocean people were hauty, stuck up and cruel; that they were pure monsters, bent on the destruction of the Mezalean royal bloodline and the slavery of Joel's people.

And though Joel had not heard any more of those rumors since he was five, he still remembered them vividly, and worse, he still believed them.

Joel didn't want this. He didn't want any of it. He didn't want to meet this girl, much less marry her, not this stuck up princess of a kingdom that killed thousands of Mezalean soldiers, ripped them from their chances of ever coming home. Not a cruel woman that did not love him any more than he loved her.