Princess Spoken For

2 ~ Awkward First Impressions

Awkwardness floated around the heads of the Northern and Western royals as they sat parallel to each other in the main hall. The butler stood away from the king, a porcelain teapot in hand. The two kings were jovially sharing war stories of their pasts, while the remainder of the parties sat silently.

Ariella was gracefully sipping on her tea, ankles crossed as she sat poised on the velveteen couch between her parents. In front of her was a young, bashful man with dark features. Their eyes had met once when they had first placed themselves in their positions, but he had become flushed in the face and has not given her the time of day since.

The western king, an aging man a little younger than her father, kept stealing lustful gazes at his bride-to-be. Guffawing at one of Ariella's father's jokes, he clasped the young man beside him on the back and said, "Where are my manners?! This here is the western crowned prince, my son, Xavier Fawn."

Xavier, Ariella repeated the name in her head, smiling into her tea cup. She stole a look at him. Those dark features of his were quite handsome, resembling less of his father. He has a straight, pronounced nose and medium-sized, yet plump, lips. His eyes were almond-shaped, appearing black, and adorned with long, sweeping lashes. His jawline was sharp. Ariella couldn't help but wonder if it'd cut her if she caressed it. As if he could feel her looking at him, Xavier's gaze shifted to peer at her from the corner of his eyes. She averted hers as her heart thumped in resistance.

Her father's elbow bumped harshly against her shoulder, causing her to look up at him in confusion. He returned the gaze with an expectant look twinkling in those eyes of his. With an inward sigh, she stood up and bowed to the king and prince of the western nation before saying, "I would like to thank the Western royalty and their delegation for gracing us with their visit," she remained bowing, "I am the sole princess of the northern kingdom, Ariella Lexington."

The western king hummed, "Ah yes, my bride-to-be. The next few months will be very busy for you," he said, dabbing at his lips with his tongue.

A shiver ran through Ariella's spine, but she refused to break face. It was her duty to become this man's. . . wife. She would make sure she'd be an exemplary wife, even if there was no love between them. She swiftly placed herself back onto the couch as her husband-to-be rambled on.

"My delegation and I will be staying here for a month like we agreed. We will have the wedding, and then I will be taking my wife back to the western nation with me." He turned to look at his fiancee, "You will become a queen, and thus you will be busier more often than not. Do not disappoint me," he threatened. The glint in his eye terrorized Ariella, and she feared he was not lying.

"Yes, My king." She dipped her head. That seemed to please him as a wild grin grew on his lips.

Ariella's father, Alexander, cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable with the way the king talked to his daughter. He was hard on her, but deep down under all that ice, he cared. Nonetheless, the kingdom and his people came before anything, so he had no choice but to marry her off. The north needed this alliance. . . "My butler will escort you and your men to their rooms. I hope they are all up to your tastes," he said, trying to free his daughter.

"We would like that, your majesty. I'm sure we'd all like to rest before the dinner tonight after such a long trip," Xavier responded before his father could. His voice was low and husky, seemingly coming from deep within his throat. The vibrato of his voice sang to Ariella like a choir of  lilted cherubs. In fact, she believed she could listen to him tell fairytales all day.

Known as Zion, the western king nodded to his son in agreement. Following suit to their king, the westerners stood up, bowed to the northerners, and left the hall behind the butler. Ariella accidentally let a sigh slip out once they were gone. Bracing for her father's backlash, she became almost worried when none came. That wasn't like her father. . . It seemed she had to always be the epitome of perfection in his eyes. "Are you okay, papa?" She addressed her worries.