The Princess's Servant

77. Wedding Plans

Holden awoke to the songs of birds and the dead silence of his house. He opened his bedroom door. No Nara on the couch. No Sybil at the door.

The young prince sighed and grabbed a loaf of bread. He tucked some jam into a satchel and snagged his journal from its (now well-known) hiding spot. He headed out to the woods.

He sat by the small creek that trickled near his cabin and he took a bite of bread. He opened up his journal to write.

"Heavens know I've suffered enough misfortune for one life as it is."

Those words. Those words stared at him the way paintings stare, tracking him no matter which way he moved. Holden felt his stomach sink. The last words he'd written before he met Sybil. The last words he'd written before his life had changed forever.

He tried to think of words to follow. Of how he felt now. But still under their watchful gaze, the only thing he felt was the deep sting of dashed hopes, and he could not write.

Holden closed his journal. He'd been wrong to try to reflect. What he'd really needed was a walk. The prince finished up his bread and jam and slid his journal under the chair of the front porch. He grabbed his other velvet cloak and started off towards town.

Town was livelier than Holden remembered. People haggled and gossiped. Children ran wild and ragged through the streets. Clouds threatened rain, but the townsfolk dressed as though skies were blue. Holden bought a cross bun. He gave it away to some hungry kid just as soon.

He was digging around his purse for change for another when a sharp silhouette stuck his vision like a pin. Those spires. He knew them. It was the old town temple, of course. But it wasn't just any temple. It was the temple Holden had recently visited in his dream.

He felt its pull. Dark clouds shifted behind its spires, matching the speed of the rising wind. The prince gave a glance around the street and stepped towards the building. He entered in.

In his vision it had been empty, and he'd met the child Sybil there. But in the light of day, there were others — albeit few — who populated the pews and whispered prayers through tight lips.

The prince approached the altar and sat on the wooden bench nearest the front. Dust-flecked light streamed in through purple and red stained glass. How? How was it that even when he was home — free — she was all he thought about? Certainly, she used to occupy a large part of his day, even before he met her. He'd dream about their one-day life and craft poems and string letters for her. But now, where she was, what she was doing, why she was doing it... it was all he thought about. Even when she was away, he could never get away.

Maybe giving her a palace would be prudent. Out of sight out of mind. And that was what he wanted. Wasn't it?

A shadow stood in the open doorway of the temple. Holden didn't know how, but he somehow recognized its caster from nothing but the vague shape.

"Not now," he said.

"Emperor's orders," Sebastian replied.

Holden sighed. With a quick prayer for patience, the prince stood and met the servant outside the temple walls.

"What?" Holden asked.

The servant through his head in one direction and headed off. Holden followed, taking a few quickened steps to catch up to his side.

"Where are we going?" The prince asked.

"You're late for your fitting. You were supposed to be there an hour ago."

"Fitting?" Holden echoed. "What fitting?"

"For your wedding robes."

"But the wedding's already happened."

"No..." Sebastian tone dipped down and up. "The marriage has already happened. The wedding hasn't even started."

Holden narrowed his eyes. "But I don't want a wedding."

Sebastian shrugged. "You're a prince. Princes have weddings. It's part of your job."

"Does it have to be?"

"Look, everything's already taken care of. All you have to do is get dressed, rehearse, and then marry Sybil. Again. And then after that, you'll be all free to... sit alone in a temple, or whatever else you do in your free time."

Holden grumbled, but continued to follow Sebastian through the blocky streets of Ward towards the palace gates. They passed through the gates easily and wound through the wide halls until they arrived at the corridor of the dresser. They were only a few paces out from his door when a thought struck the prince.

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to know what type of wedding we're having, would you?"

"What do you mean 'what type of wedding?'" Sebastian looked at him with an annoyed disdain.

"I mean, is it Wardian or Lailoyan?" Holden clarified

"Definitely..." The servant thought. "Lailoyan?" He guessed, but Holden could hear his dishonesty.

The prince stopped in his track. "I put in over a hundred applications for a Lailoyan wedding. No way am I doing a Wardian one."

Sebastian gripped Holden's forearm. "I will drag you there if I have to," he said.

"Sebs, you know I can't do this. Wardian weddings are terrible. I can't put myself or Sybil through one — it wouldn't be right. We have to make it a Lailoyan wedding, or... Or I won't participate," Holden decided.

"Listen, 'Wardian.'"

Holden froze hearing his nickname.

"You're the Prince of Ward and your wedding will be in Ward. You're going to have a Wardian wedding, and if you don't like that reality, then you can take it up with the Wardian Emperor, and then he can decide whether he wants his Wardian royal to have a non-Wardian wedding."

"But Lailoyan weddings—"

"Eh-eh." Sebs stuck up a finger to shush him. "Take it up with your brother," the servant said.

"But—"

"Your brother," Sebastian reiterated, and he shoved the prince into the fitting room and slammed the door shut.

A/N: Please vote!

Also please look forward to 4 bonus make-up chapters coming soon (in addition to Friday ones)