First at Last

Chapter Eight

At the palace . . .

William walked down the long corridor to his father's throne room. He felt a little bit anxious, because his father only ever called him in there for serious matters. He turned the corner and saw the grand oak doors sitting at the end of the hall. The throne room was one of his least favorite rooms. It was usually the place where his father would reprimand him or force him to meet potential brides. He remembered one particularly brutal meeting, where his father had made him stand in the middle of the room with a line of potential brides before him. He'd had to turn each of them down, because he just couldn't imagine a life with any of them. And then he'd had to stand there as most of them burst into tears or yelled at him for his insensitivity. It had not been a good day.

"Do you know what he is going to speak to you about?" Gabriel asked, coming seemingly from out of nowhere to join William.

"Do I ever?" William scoffed, narrowing his eyes at the door that seemed to get farther and farther away with each step he took.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, the only sound coming from the clinking of the scabbard hanging at Gabriel's belt. "William," Gabriel said, suddenly serious.

William glanced at his friend. "Yes?"

"Just . . . think before you speak."

"Why wouldn't I?" William asked.

"You never do." Gabriel stated flatly. "I am just giving you a warning. Use it wisely."

Thinking on Gabriel's words, William could have sworn his friend knew what this conversation would be about, more so than he was letting on, at least.

After what seemed like much longer than necessary, they'd reached the door at the end of the hall. Two guards that worked under Gabriel were posted on either side of the grand doors. William rapped his knuckles lightly against the solid oak and one of the guards opened it and allowed them entrance. The door echoed as it slammed shut behind William, sounding too loud in the silence, too much like a threat. Immediately, he felt the oppressive air around him, felt the way it seemed to try to choke the air from his lungs.

The king sat on his throne, his back rigid, his dark eyes cold and calculating, as William walked toward him.

The throne room had always been a bit too . . . extravagant for William's liking. The throne that his father sat on was made entirely of gold, with a plush red velvet cushion to sit on. It was so large that the king's feet hardly touched the ground. The throne next to it was smaller and more elegant, meant for a queen. The floor was tiled with hand-carved marble tiles and elegant gold designs. Thousand-year-old tapestries lined the walls, depicting stories that had long-since been forgotten. A golden chandelier hung from the domed ceiling; it was so large that it covered nearly the entire ceiling, hanging from gold chains woven with strings of pearls. On the ceiling, that wasn't hidden by the unnecessary chandelier, designs were carved into the dome, telling stories in languages that had been dead for thousands of years, since Belhaven's palace had been built.

William stood before his father and bowed deeply. "Your Majesty," he murmured respectfully.

"Rise," His Majesty's voice rang out across the room with an authority that William had always found admirable. His father was a good leader, even if he was not a very good father.

The prince did as he was told, straightening, until he was looking up at his father. "You called on me?"

"Yes, I did." The sovereign said. "I have been speaking with Lord Lovet of Locksley, and you are expected to wed his daughter."

William's heart sped up at the thought, though he remained impassive, waiting for his father to continue.

After a pause, the king went on, "You are expected to marry Alice Lovet of Locksley."

Just the thought made William's blood run cold. "With all due respect, Your Excellency," he began, thinking it wise to take Gabriel's advice and at least act respectful. "I do not wish to marry Lady Alice."

The king raised an eyebrow at this. "Why is that, William?"

"Well, I do not think she is right for me." He explained.

William's father laughed--a harsh, unexpected sound. "It does not matter if she is right for you or not. I think she will be a great leader, and a great queen someday. And I want you to get to know her."

"Father," William said slowly, meeting the king's dark eyes. "I am not interested in getting to know her." I might be in love with her sister, were the words that kept forming in his mind, but would not make their way to his lips.

His father's mouth thinned into a grim line. "But you will take an interest in her, William. You will act as though you want to be with her, because you are going to end up marrying her. Is that understood?"

Ignoring most of what his father said, William said, "What if I were to marry Erika Lovet instead?"

The king's eyes lit up with understanding. "Ah, I see. You know, I've been wondering who it was you've been meeting lately." He held up a hand to silence his son before he could object. "Don't deny it. You would be lying. And, while I am your father, I am your sovereign before all else. You must remember that I have eyes and ears everywhere, William. Nothing happens without me knowing about it. But no, marrying Lady Erika was not the agreement arranged with Lord Lovet."

William pressed his lips together to keep himself from saying something stupid and irrational. His father was right. He really did have no choice.

"We are going to be inviting them to dine with us, so that you may get to know Alice Lovet. I do not want you talking with her sister or being around her sister. That is not the point of the invitation." The king said, his tone of voice leaving no room for argument.

So many different thoughts crowded William's head, trying to get out. But all he said was: "Of course, Your Majesty." And bowed low once more.

"Excellent." And his father turned to speak to the retainer next to him, which meant that William had been dismissed.

He clenched his hands into fists, taking a deep breath, before he turned and exited the room, Gabriel close behind.

"Well, that was . . ." Gabriel cleared his throat, searching for the right word. "Awkward," he said at last.

William cast a sidelong glance at his friend. "You knew that was coming." It wasn't a question.

Gabriel smiled ruefully at the prince. "I couldn't very well tell you, but yes, I did know."

Sighing heavily, William turned the corner that led down the corridor to his rooms. "Of course you did."

"I'm sorry." The apology was more for what went on in the meeting, over William not being informed on the matter.

"Me too, Gabriel." William breathed, and entered his own chambers, shutting the door in Gabriel's face. Finding himself blessedly alone, he released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

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This was the end of chapter eight. I hope you like the story so far! If you see anything that is a mistake or grammatical error, feel free to leave a comment and tell me what needs to change.

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P.S. Just a reminder: I know I've published this on the website, but I am still going to edit it just as I go, because I am still working on it. I haven't even finished writing it yet :P