The Reluctant Princess - a Novella

Chapter 5 - The Council Meeting

She hadn't been sure what to make of Henry's odd behavior that morning, but realizing she was not about to figure out what went on in a randy young man's brain, she resolved to put him and his erratic behavior aside and move on with her day.

She joined her mother and the Queen for lunch in the garden and made every effort to seem calm and collected. She sat through several tedious hours of discussion over the final details of the wedding ceremony and pretended with great success to look sufficiently interested in ornamental candle sticks and gardenia and orange blossom arrangements.

Following lunch, she attended a wedding gown fitting, then joined her sister and some of the ladies-in-waiting for afternoon tea.

Thankfully, Henry was nowhere to be found, so by the time dinner time came around, she was mostly ready to face him and his wandering lips.

She reminded herself that, very likely, in the very near future, she may be required to do a lot more than kiss him, and that it was probably silly to be so prudish. However, the way he behaved, assuming that he could go around making obscene advances and expecting her to fall at his feet, made her uncomfortable to say the least. Could it be the handsome, spoiled prince had never been rejected before and therefore did not understand the concept of consent? Sure, they were both far from being free to consent, but was nothing sacred anymore? Did he honestly think she would be flattered by him trying to kiss her without her approval? Again?

She had given him a pass for the first time, since she had, after all, been the one to enter his bed chamber and he had indeed mistaken her for one of his lovers, but the second time she had repeatedly asked him to leave. There was no excuse for him insisting, as if she were a silly girl playing some inane flirting game with him.

She hoped he had finally understood, and from his hasty retreat, she was quite certain he had.

How to behave from here to the wedding day, was a whole other mystery, however. Perhaps she could avoid him altogether until then and just postpone the inevitable as long as possible.

The inevitable.  The thought alone made her want to scream, not only for herself but for all the young women out there who had been, were currently and would be, in her situation in future.

"Why the sour face, dear?"

Her mother's voice dragged her from her internal turmoil.

"What? This face?" she replied, immediately curling her lips in a rather insincere smile.

Her mother frowned disapprovingly.

"Is that really how a future princess should speak?" she admonished.

"I expect a future princess who actually gives a fig about becoming one might use less crass language, yes," she allowed, defiantly.

She could actually see the color drain from her mother's face and was not sure if the little frisson that traversed her body was of fear or enjoyment. Lady Crawley made a sound of disdain and looked around apprehensively.

"We cannot have you behave in this way so close to the wedding, Elizabeth! Do contain yourself. I do not understand why, even after meeting the prince in the flesh, you are still so stubbornly opposed to the union. He is a gallant, handsome young man. And I daresay he has taken a shine to you."

Elizabeth huffed, clearly unconvinced of this last bit. The only thing she might agree on was that if anything, Henry was intrigued by her and her reticence, and was probably only interested in breaking down her resolve for the pure sport of it. His womanizing reputation was legendary at court, after all.

"Do not make that face. I am not the only one who thinks so. I was speaking to the queen about this very thing this morning. Your sudden departure last night left him looking quite forlorn."