War of Hearts

Chapter 3: The Banquet

The long travel from Nerea to Adehane was finally over. King George and Prince Isaac waited at the entrance of the castle alongside their guards as the carriage of the Nerean royals stopped in front of them. In the carriage, Ingrid watched with what felt like her heart in her mouth as the cousin she never met came closer towards them. 

He caught her eye, and immediately his eyes looked cold and calculating, as if she truly was an enemy he had to vanquish. His eyes were the coldest she had ever seen. She groaned before reminding herself to force a smile. Was this really supposed to be the person she had to seduce enough to betray? 

Her father then was escorted out of the carriage, and she followed. She could feel all eyes were on her the second she stepped out into the sun. Once again, she wished more than anything to just be wearing the usual shirt and pants she always wore back at home. The dress made for her felt like it was constricting her every movement. She did her best to hide her discomfort with as genuine a smile as she could muster, but with the way the prince glared at her, she felt like she had just committed a heinous crime. 

King Nicolas bowed his head to his brother, and Ingrid managed a cursty--it was awkward, but it was the best she could do in the tight, stiff dress. The king of Adehane, King George, bowed back to his brother, and they shook hands. 

"Welcome to Adehane, Nicolas. And to you, Princess Ingrid," King George said amicably. "Allow me to introduce my son, Prince Isaac," he added, gesturing at his son by his side. King Nicolas shook Isaac's hand, and then he gestured to Ingrid. "Allow me to present as well my daughter, the Princess Ingrid," King Nicolas said. 

Ingrid and Isaac looked at one another once more, and Ingrid felt the sudden urge to punch him in the face. He was tall, lanky, and had these sharp eyes and a sharp nose and sharp lips--everything about him was sharp. Still, she forced a smile so big her mouth hurt, and she curtsied once again. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, speaking through her teeth, gripping hard on her dress. Her father looked at her with a warning look, clearing his throat to signal to her to be more genuine.

Just looking at her, Isaac could already tell that her smile wasn't genuine. The stress lines on her face, the way her hand slightly fidgeted against her dress, the way even her lips seemed to shake with the amount of effort she had to put in to ignore her discomfort--he could see through her as easily as if she was glass. Still, he put on a smile just as genuine as hers--which is, not at all--and said: "It is lovely to see you, Princess Ingrid. They call you the warrior of Nerea, right?" he asked her. He held out a hand to her. "If I may?"

Ingrid hated to admit it, but she loved it when people acknowledged her strength in the battle field. "Huh," she thought. "he may not be as idiotic as I thought." Her ego stroked, she felt less annoyed at his face and held out a a hand. 

He took it and kissed it lightly. "Look at these two, in good terms already," King Nicolas said rather teasingly. At this, Ingrid realized once again the situation, and roughly pulled her hand back, hiding it behind her. 

 "It's cold outside, shall we all go in and have a nice lunch?" King George interjected. He was smiling, but deep inside he was laughing at his brother-- "Oh you've gone fat, and your wife can't be bothered to even join you. You're so easy to break, I can already tell!" 

 "Of course! Let us all go in. You must tour me around," King Nicolas said cheerfully, but inside he thought: "dirty old castle, rusting armor, weak looking son. Victory is ours!" All four of them concealed their true emotions for each other, putting on layer after layer of indifference. 

"After you," Isaac offered to Ingrid, gesturing a hand out to the entrance. He held out his arm for her to take. Instead, Ingrid completely ignored it and followed her father.