creative Prompt #218 - Creative

[Cia]

You were promised to another before you were even born. Your whole life you knew you would have no choice in this marriage. Now your life partner is due to arrive in mere hours and your entire kingdom has been working none stop to make sure everything is perfect. What is your life partner like and how will you survive with that person for the rest of your life?

 

[Mann Ramblings]

I like this one a lot. There may be a future in this story. We shall see.

 

The Arrival -

 

 

 

 

* * * *

 

My valet, Garmin, reached down and arraigned my bare organ to slide safely unto my snug breeches. Red velvet and fitting like a second skin, they rode along my thighs while caressing and separating my backside. With a gentle tug of the fabric, he released me; my bulge looked unusually heavy within the tailored garment. He quickly lifted the sheer shirt hanging from the wardrobe and I stretched my arms outwards to ease my dressing.

 

“Isn't it exciting, Sir Nathan? Traveling to another land to be the consort of a future king?” Garmin spoke quickly and excitedly. His normal eloquence had come undone over the past few days as the time grew near.

 

“No, Garmin. It's not. I've never even met the man. I don't see what's so damned exciting,” I whispered.

 

Garmin paused while sliding the silk sleeve along my arms. “But he's a Lord! How can you not be excited?”

 

I sighed. Garmin simply couldn't understand. He was my most trusted servant, but his family was originally penniless before he was purchased into my family's service. For him, it had been an upgrading of a dismal life. I did not see my own betrothal in the same light.

 

“I was promised to him before I was even born, Garmin. It makes me feel like a common prostitute.”

 

“You're nothing of the sort, Sir.”

 

I turned my head to catch his full attention. “You're dressing me so that my body might arouse him. Everyone wants to be sure he doesn't reject me. How do you expect me to feel?”

 

After an awkward pause, Garmin continued to dress me in silence. When I caught a glimpse of his face, it wore a worried brow and he avoided my eyes. My arraignment meant a new locale for him as well; he was my private attendant after all. The marriage and relocation would serve to benefit him, so I could see how torn he was over my plight. If it was a plight after all.

 

Lord Rother Marsh Delaga III was only hours away from arriving. The Abbey was alive with servants scrambling to complete the last minute details of the lavish dinner event that was planned in his honor. Planning had begun months ago and had slowly intensified the closer we came to my future marriage.

 

Our joining would combine our families in very beneficial ways. The financial difficulties my father was secretly facing would be all but erased by the dowry. At least moving to a new country would remove me from the sight of his disapproving eyes. I'd never have to listen to his subtle asides about never having grandchildren.

 

Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad after all. That's what I would keep telling myself as my stomach twisted itself into a nauseous mess. If I managed to survive this dinner without embarrassing myself, I stood a small chance of happiness.

 

Very small.

 

“Perhaps I'm worried about nothing at all,” I said. Garmin looked up at me as he laced up my black leather boot, a soft smile radiating from him.

 

“That's the spirit, Sir Nathan. You just wait and see.”

 

* * * *

 

My family stood in the foyer with all the servants standing at attention. Father kept a stoic grace as we waited for my intended to exit his vehicle and enter the Abbey. Through the stained glass of the front doors I could see the shadows of a small entourage. The butler reached and opened the double doors before they could reach the entrance. The doors swung wide as he was announced. There was no doubt who he was.

 

He was slight of build and dressed in an elaborately decorated silk shirt. Elegant black pants were topped with an ornate belt encrusted with jewels. A matching jacket dragged the floor behind him with thick striped fur lining the collar. Multiple golden rings lined his brow and ears sparkling in the glow of the chandelier. Elegant lips were pursed above a manicured thin beard and his hair swept back artfully, a blinding white streak ran through the dark auburn tresses. A smoldering smirk curled the edge of his mouth as his eyes surveyed my body. Posed front and center in the room, he obviously knew who he was here to claim.

 

The butler bowed and the rest of the servants supplicated themselves. My father introduced himself and offered his hospitality. The practiced pageantry that began was lost on me. With my sequestered upbringing, I felt an unfamiliar rush as I stood in the hall on display for my future husband.

 

I suppressed a soft gasp as my chest swelled in arousal, showing me the difficulty of my new situation. My heartbeat fluttered. Not for the haughty, overdressed peacock that I was about to be passed off to; he was of no interest. My attention was captured by the hulking bodyguard with tattooed patterns covering the left side of his face standing behind Lord Rother.

 

The bodyguard who refused to stop his heated expression as he stared into my eyes. 

Edited March 23, 2013 by Mann Ramblings

[Finn]

This was absolutely fun to write! I should do it more often.

 

---

 

“Darrrrrryyylll…”

 

I cringed. I’d recognize that voice anyway, the high-pitch of his teasing tone that echoed throughout the room, even after the original had ceased. It simply resonated deep within you, straight into your heart. It made sense too—the boy owned the palace, had had every inch customized in some way or another. Of course he’d have it designed to strength his own voice.

 

He loved hearing himself.

 

Oh my Lord, did he love hearing himself.

 

“Darryl, Darryl, Darryl!”

 

Ugggghhhh; damn him to Chaos and back. Wait, on second thought—leave him there.

 

“What?!” I barked back, my body shaking violently.”

 

“Guess what day it is, Darryl?” he replied.

 

“I don’t give a single Varvan’s ass what day it is, Matt!”

 

“How unpleasant.” I could feel him pouting, even though I couldn’t see him. Undoubtedly, he rigged the palace to cool with his emotion. The air around me chilled, sending the golden hairs on my arms and neck standing. For a moment, I felt nervous, running my crimson eyes around the room. It was mine, it was normal. Nothing was jumping out of the goddamn walls. Yet.

 

“I don’t care,” I whispered, calming myself. The boy might be crazy, but he’d never actually hurt me… I don’t think. He was entirely unpredictable; he was insane.

 

“It’s your wedding day,” he said, more than a little nonchalantly.

 

I’m not sure if it was his indifference or the actual news, but I could literally feel the color fading from my face. A glance to the mirror that lined the east wall of my room proved me right; my already-pasty skin managed to turn ghastly, highlighting my thin, red lips and hearty-cheeks. I really hated my natural blush.

 

“My wedding day?” I stuttered.

 

He giggled, a sound that met the frequency required to vibrate throughout the room. “Yup. Silly Darryl, how can you forget such a big day?”

 

I frowned. He knew damn well the answer, keeping me busy with all the affairs of running a colony—me! Hell, I’d just turned fifteen and half… today.

 

Well, damn. “You work fast….”

 

He snickered. Luckily, it didn’t resonate. I’d die if I had to suffer that arrogant, haughty, squirm for more than a second. At once, of course. I heard it way too often to be alive otherwise. “I’m a busy, busy boy, Darryl.”

 

I signed, pouted, and grumbled as I walked across the room, towards the door to my closet. “Fine, whatever, let’s get this turd over with.”

 

“Good lad,” he purred. “Now, believe it or not, but this is some serious shite I’m throwing you into….”

 

 

I stood at the center of the Reception Room. To my sides, in perfect regal dress—or the ridiculous costumes He managed to pass off as such, with all the purples and oranges and yellows—stood the Palace attendants. They were short creatures, most barely breaking four feet. They were hairy, too, practically coated in black fur over from the neck down. Their heads were less dominated, though their ugliness made one wish otherwise. They had big, black, round eyes that pieced the soul with their innocence—it went well with the perpetual, wide, toothy grins they wore on their faces. Their noses—my Lord their noses; they were like a canine’s, except without the snout.

 

So. Very. Ugly. At least the knights were human.

 

Two stood by the doors, indifferent in their black polymer-clad uniforms. They were lucky. They weren’t dressed like clowns, unlike me. It seems He enjoyed tormenting me, forcing me into a purple and orange dress. Seriously. My chest was practically open for all to see, while the two colors danced their ways towards the floor. At least my legs were covered.

 

The doors opened suddenly, the light from the outside desert bursting brightly into the room. It reflected off the suits of armor, which were positioned in a way that all the light bounced its way to me. Damn Him. He actually planned this all through.

 

I felt ridiculous, standing in the outrageously lame costume in the center of a furry of light, monkeys standing proudly at my side in their bright, Renaissance-era costumes. It was like the bloody Swiss Guard in here.

 

And then, he walked in.

 

He was beautiful.

 

Absolutely beautiful.

 

Like an angel.

 

Except not.

 

Because he was another. Fucking. Monkey.

 

A joke.

 

My whole life, a joke.

 

I could hear his laughter echoing throughout the palace halls.

 

I sighed, smiled, damned him. Then undressed there and then and retreated to my room.

 

Needless to say, I’m not marrying the monkey.

Edited March 23, 2013 by Finn

[joann414]

Promises Kept

 

Sam spit his orange juice across his mother's white lace tablecloth, almost following it with the breakfast he had just consumed. "Dad, you have lost your fucking mind!  Not only do I refuse to enter into an arranged marriage, but I refuse to be a pawn in your business dealings.  Anyway, how the hell am I going to marry the heir to the Manchester fortune when he has no children but two males, one a doctor and the other a "flaming" rockstar of some kind."

 

"When you were born Lionel Manchester and I made a pact that our first born and heir would unite our two companies one day, and that day has come."  Joc Trainer, owner of Trainer cosmetics replied.  Lionel Manchester, owner of the third largest hotel chains in the country and he had been friends since childhood.

 

Still completely in the dark on what his dad was telling him Sam asked.  "Am I missing something here."

 

"You will marry Clark Manchester on Christmas Eve, just two months away.  He will be back in town any day now for you two to cultivate a relationship of some sort before then."

 

Sam shouted so loud that his mother dropped the coffee pot she was about to refill their cups with causing an even bigger mess of the tablecloth. "Clark Manchester is gay!  Have you lost your mind because I can assure you I am not gay and even if I were that perky, squealing half ass singer would certainly not be to my taste. Get the notion of a union out of your head father."

 

Knowing his son was furious when he used father to address him, Joc refused to engage in an argument with him.  He just said in his most aristocratic voice.  "It will be done and you have no choice if you want to continue to call yourself my son."

 

Stunned, Sam knocked his chair over as he jumped up from the table and took the stairs two at a time to his room he used in his parent's house when he visited.

 

Two weeks later and after a lot of careful soul searching Sam knew he had no choice if he wanted to live the lavish but productive lifestyle he loved.  He had gotten on the internet and read all that he could about 25 year old Clark Manchester who at the moment was no longer singing but had purchased a recording company that seemed to be very lucrative.  The only pictures Sam could find was him in full make-up and costume.  Swallowing nervously, he went downstairs to have a drink with his parents before the guests arrived.

 

Half an hour later the butler announced Mr. and Mrs. Manchester and their son Clark.  Schooling his features of contempt or ridicule, Sam waited for the first glance of his betrothed.  When Lionel Manchester entered the room with his wife, he stepped forward and greeted them both and looked curiously over their shoulders to get his first glimpse of his future husband and felt his mouth drop open at what he saw.  Gone was the make-up,blue hair, and sparkly clothes, replaced by dark brown hair, midnight blue eyes the same shade of Mrs. Manchesters.  Though Clark was built small, he carried himself as if he were six feet tall.  He had on tight black jeans, black shirt, and sport coat.  The only color relieving the darkness was a blue hankerchief peeking out of his coat pocket.  Realising he was holding his breath, Sam found his voice and said huskily,"Hello Clark, nice to see you again though under a different sort of circumstances."

 

The beautiful young man looked Sam in the eyes and said, "I find nothing diffrerent other than the fact that I am fixing to marry the most beautiful hunk in town that every girl in this town would give their right arm to have caught."  He giggled after he finished speaking.

 

Trying to quell the fluttering in his stormach, Sam found himself saying over and over in his mind, "I am not gay, I am not gay, I am not gay."

 

As if reading his thoughts Clark walked to stand directly in front of Sam before leaning forward and lightly touching his lips to his.  "Just as well get that out of the way.  Don't you agree?"

 

Fire went through Sam's loins causing his breath to hitch for a moment before he hurried around the visitors and upstairs to the sanctuary of his room.

 

Sitting on the side of his bed Sam thought about what just happened.  He had never questioned his sexuality even though he felt he did not feel the sexual urges toward his dates that other guys gushed on about.  He attributed it to his upbringing as to why he didn't initiate sex with his dates.  Now, he knew the real reason and it scared the hell out of him though it solved the problem of marrying Clark.  The idea did not seem so unbearable now.  In fact he thought he might come to like the thought of landing an heir to a hotel empire.  Yep, sounded pretty damn good to him.

 

Going back downstairs, he walked back to the door of the den where the adults were standing around the bar chatting and Clark was sitting on the couch thumbing through a magazine.  Clearing his throat to get the young man's attention he motioned for him to follow him.  Clark put the magazine back on the table and followed SAm upstairs cautiously as if he was a little uncertain if he should go somewhere alone with him or not.

 

Closing his bedroom door after Clark entered Sam sat down on his bed and patted the spot beside him for Clark to sit.  "It's like this.  I have never thought of myself as gay or even bi as far as that goes, but it seems I may have been mistaken and I am willing to try to make a go at this if you are." Sam rushed through his little speech.

 

Clark squealed like a girl before pushing Sam onto his bed, ravishing his mouth and neck and the hardness that sprung up between the two of them told Sam that he had made the right choice because the bulge he felt was not just in Clark's pants.

[Cia]

@ Mann: I loved this! The regency feel isn't my favorite time period but I really enjoyed the clash of innocence and carnality. The word 'arraignment' kept tripping me up though. I think you meant arrangement.

 

@ Finn: This story left me confused more than anything. Aliens of some sort, obviously, since there was the comment about going pasty white as a blush and red eyes. I like the otherworldly feel to the story. But who was the boy? What is his connection to your character? What purpose does it serve him to stick around? I think this could have been a little more interesting if we had seen the connection between the two main characters.

 

@ Jo Ann: So... two wealthy scions wedding to stay wealthy? I curled my lip at that at first, even with the veiled reference that Sam does good with it. Even when one isn't gay until he's 'gay for you' for the rocker? I thought it was interesting that you had the rocker be the twink, and turned him 'normal' with his look. You had a lot of internal conflict in this short story!

[Finn]

Ahahaha, yeah... sorry. The two are "based" on a pair of characters (a child emperor, the invisible boy; a prince, Darryl) I toyed with in my earlier teens. Like, age fourteen, maybe fifteen.... Didn't really want to say much about their backgrounds, considering the whole thing was based around an empire of monkeys (who apparently dressed like the Swiss Guard!), and imagined by a child...

 

Yeeeaaahhhhhhh.... >.>

 

Questions do have answers, though. They're just not very serious. Maybe I'll update the entire concept though; would give me some to do, in these bored times....

 

 

A king, a clown, and a businessman walk into a bar... lol.

[layla]

“Have you told him yet?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why the hell not!”

 

Jackson DeMott turned towards the cold, haughty voice of his wife, Mildred, and resisted the urge to shudder at the sight of her pale, pinched face. Dark, heavy eye make up only served to make her appear sick and bruised, despite her insistence that it was the height of fashion. Her thin, mousy brown hair was pinned elaborately on the top of her head, hiding the places where her scalp had begun to show. Her arms were crossed over her almost non-existent bosom and judging from the way she frowned she was only moments away from throwing another of her infamous fits.

 

“Jackson, I asked you a question; why haven’t you told him and why aren’t you dressed properly, those clothes are more suited to a funeral than a wedding?!”

 

“On the contrary, how could I possibly wear anything else on the day that I’m being forced to give my first born son away?”

 

“You’ve known this day was coming since the day that he was born, why you insisted upon keeping it from him and coddling the boy I will never understand but it stops here and now. Caden is one and twenty, no longer a child, and Prince Rhys will be here any time now. I will not have that beastly little devil spawn of yours shaming this family.”

 

Jackson ran a tired hand over his face, feeling far older than his forty-seven years. “I’d hoped that one day you could see it in your heart to love him as if he were your own son, but I’ve come to realize over the years that you are nothing more than a vain, cruel, heartless woman. That boy has done nothing to you save for having the misfortune of not being of your blood. I loath the day that I ever allowed you to talk me into making this agreement, but more than that, I loath you with every fiber of my being.”

 

Mildred sneered, appearing unmoved by his outburst. “Would you have preferred to lose this manor as well as your estates? Your father’s gambling coupled with your ineptitude left us on the cusp of ruin and it was my swift thinking and my father’s brilliance that saved us. It is only right that Caden, as the oldest, be the first to marry.”

 

“Would you have been so quick to offer up Tristan or Glenn had one of them been the only option?

 

“I would have offered them you had the circumstances dictated that as the only solution.” Mildred spat.

 

“Why you selfish, grasping…”

 

Mildred stomped her foot loudly on the marble floor, the echo of her shoe like a rifle shot “Enough! Hate me if you will but that changes nothing. Now go and get that little bastard of yours ready for his wedding day and so help me Jackson if either of you messes this up, you’ll suffer in ways that you cannot possibly imagine.

 

“Someday I can only hope to see you suffer in ways that have not even been dreamed up yet,” Jackson growled with hatred in his eyes as he pushed past his wife. His steps were heavy with anger as he ascended the stairs to the second floor, fists clenched so tightly that half crescent indents were forming on his palms. Outside of his oldest son’s room, he paused and took several deep breaths, desperately seeking some small measure of calm before delivering the life altering news. If only there was some way of being certain that Rhys would be kind and understanding of Caden’s odd and sometimes distracting behaviors, but sadly, few had ever truly given the young man a fair chance.

 

Knocking on the door, Jackson mentally prepared his speech while waiting for Caden to answer. When he did not, Jackson pushed open the door and let his eyes drift around the dimly lit room till they came to rest on the figure curled upon the bearskin rug by the hearth, two large hounds on either side of him. Jackson couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the trio before a sudden thought abruptly wiped the smile from his face.

 

Would Rhys allow Caden to keep the animals or would his son be forced to leave his two closest companions behind when he left behind his home? Jackson crossed the room quietly, stopping near the hearth when one of the hounds growled low and raised his head, the white splotch of fur around his left eye identified him as Titus. When Titus saw that it was Jackson he lay his head back on his paws and closed his eyes again while the other hound, Brutes, snored on.

 

With a sigh Jackson knelt and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, gently snaking him awake. Caden blinked sleepy, mismatched eyes up at his father, noting the grim look on the older man’s face.  As his son sat up, Jackson wondered what Rhys’ reaction to seeing Caden’s eyes would be and whether the Prince would be yet another superstitious fool who believed Caden’s eyes were a sign that he was devil touched.

 

Fools, Jackson through to himself as Caden reached out and placed his hand on Brutes’ head, rubbing the dog’s ears. Caden’s head was cocked to one side and he made a soft, clicking sound with his tongue that let Jackson know that he was listening. While his son could speak, Caden used words sparingly and only after careful thought. It was one of the many things that made the boy so endearing in his father’s eyes. In another’s eyes, however, Jackson knew it was just another sign that Caden was different from others his age.

 

“I’m sorry I had to wake you, were you up late wandering the moors again?”

 

Caden grinned and nodded, mismatched eyes lighting up and darting to the heavy curtains that were blocking out much of the sun and the moors that lay just beyond the window.

 

Jackson sighed heavily and rubbed his chin, still struggling to find just the right words.

 

“Caden, there’s something very important that I need to say to you and I am going to need you to listen to me very carefully and do exactly as I ask, alright.”

 

Jackson watched his son frown before giving a single stiff nod.

 

“Your grandfather was a good man, a kind man, with a great deal of political influence, but for all his good points he loved gaming and at times put little thought into the wagers that he made. Over time all of his gambling caught up with him and he was deeply in debt.”

 

“As you know, my marriage to Mildred was arranged by her father as a token of goodwill in order to attain your grandfather’s votes granting his family exclusive trading rights with the small country of Mauritania. Relations between our country and Mauritania had been strained for years and without being able to import goods, the people of Mauritania were struggling. The deal made Mildred’s father quite wealthy and with it came a great deal of power.”

 

“Mildred’s dowry paid off a large chunk of the debt your grandfather had accumulated but there was still a great deal owed. It was Mildred who first suggested that we further cement our families’ ties with Mauritania by proposing a marriage between our firstborn child and the firstborn child of the king of Mauritania. After all, it was Mildred who stood to inherit her father’s trading routes and ships when he passed on and a marriage between the families would further solidify the contract.”

 

“What I didn’t know at the time was that Mildred had discovered that I’d been dallying with your mother, who was governess to your Uncle Jamie. She’d figured out that the child Vanessa was carrying was mine and confronted me with it. I never once denied that it was true Caden, I never denied you, but I wish that I had because Mildred told your grandfather about you, and he was so overjoyed to be a grandfather that he insisted that you be given our family name and raised by Mildred and I.”

 

“Mildred arranged for your mother to be richly compensated and set up with a home far from here, and then Mildred claimed you as her own, at least when the outside world could see her doing it. In private she wanted nothing to do with you and refused to act as a mother in any way. She relegated you to a horde of nannies who had explicit orders to keep you out of her sight though she took every opportunity to parade you in front of visitors and boast of the day that you would marry the prince.”

 

“Caden, son, I am sorrier than words can ever express. I know that living with Mildred has never been a pleasant experience for you and I suspect that it is why you have come to love the night time when you can wander about freely without the fear of running into her and her waspish tongue. I wish I had seen through her plan from the beginning, but I did not, and signed the contract with the Mauritanian king when it was placed in front of me.”

 

“What I am trying to say is that you are promised to Prince Rhys of Mauritania and he is on his way here to claim you. You are to be married in the chapel here, today, preparations are already underway. After the ceremony you will set sail to Mauritania where you will live from now on.”

 

For the first time since he began Jackson hesitated.

 

“I…I’m sorry Caden, please understand that there is no way to break the contract, if you refuse, you will be taken to Mauritania by force and this home and all that I own will be forfeited. Your brothers would be forced to apprentice rather than finish their educations and all of those who depend upon this estate and manor for shelter and work would be forced to fend for themselves. I cannot allow that to happen, Caden you must marry the prince.”

 

Jackson had watched a medley of emotions play across Caden’s face as the story unfolded but now the young man sat with his hand still upon the head of his hound, a blank, almost expressionless look in his eyes. Jackson sat with bated breath, waiting on Caden’s response.

 

Caden blinked several times and forced his fingers to resume scratching Brutes’ ears. “Will I ever see you again?”

 

Jackson tried to give his son a smile but was certain it came out a grimace. “I will do my best to come to Mauritania and visit with you each year around the time of your birth.”

 

Caden dropped his gaze, but not before Jackson saw the shimmer of tears forming there. He should have known Caden would not be fooled by such a flimsy lie.

 

“And what about them,” Caden asked, stroking Titus’ head now as well. Jackson heard the hitch in his son’s voice and the shaky exhale of breath that revealed just how flimsy a hold he had on his emotions.

 

“I honestly can’t answer that,” Jackson told him. “You will have to ask Prince Rhys if he will allow you to keep them. I promise you that they will have a home here for the rest of their days if he will not.”

 

Caden ducked his head, hiding the tears that now flowed freely. With some difficulty, Jackson swallowed down the lump in his throat and reached out to embrace his son, pulling him into a hug. For several long minutes, no other words were spoken.

 

“I have never disobeyed you father,” Caden’s soft voice whispered in his ear. “I will marry the prince and do my best not to shame you.”

 

“I am proud of you, my son,” Jackson whispered back, hugging him tighter, “and I have faith in you, I know you will do your best.”

 

“Is he kind? Is he going to be afraid of me? Perhaps he won’t want me because of my eyes.”

 

“He faces the same repercussions as you do if he refuses to honor the contract. As for whether he is a kind man or not I cannot say; I have never met him. All that I know of Prince Rhys is that he is two years older than you are and has spent some time abroad.”

 

Caden pulled out of his father’s embrace and lay his head on Titus’ back as a loud horn sounded in the distance. There was no time for anymore words, the prince had arrived.

[Mann Ramblings]

Layla - That was fantastic. Great characters! I want to know more about Caden. Lovely job! :D

[layla]

Thanks Mann I was thinking of maybe continuing it, now that work is finally easing up and going back to normal again

[Mann Ramblings]

@ Mann: I loved this! The regency feel isn't my favorite time period but I really enjoyed the clash of innocence and carnality. The word 'arraignment' kept tripping me up though. I think you meant arrangement.

 

See what happens when you work without an editor! I think my laptop thought I was sending Sir Nathan to jail.

[Greg_A]

I decided to give this one a try.  Not sure if there is something here I want to pursue or not.  I'll have to mull it over if I want to continue.

 

***

“How much…how much time?” I stammered, looking in the mirror still not quite believing it was me looking back.  I had never worn clothes as fine as these, never wanted to really, and it was still hard to believe how different I looked.  High born I might have been, but I had never lived as one. 

 

Mine was a minor noble house, but an old one.  We could trace our lineage back over a thousand years, farther even than the current king.  To some that was considered important.  But no matter how far back our line extended it didn’t change the fact that our holdings were small.  No bigger than a modest merchant and that would be a kind description.  That being the case I had always lived simply and worked right alongside the commoners.  Noble birth doesn’t fill one’s belly.

 

“About an hour,” my mother answered me, running her hands down my back straightening my clothes.  I glanced at her reflection and saw her gentle smile.  She understood.  This was a huge event in my life.  This was my wedding day.  And the day I would meet my future wife – for the first time in my life.

 

Mine was an arranged marriage – arranged even before I was born truth be told.  The king’s hold on the throne was tenuous.  His family had held the throne for several generations, but he was not the next in line for the succession when he took the crown.  All agreed that his older brother was incompetent, but the noble houses would have been much happier with a nice regency instead of the mysterious death of the rightful heir.  To placate those nobles the king sought a union with a nice, old noble family.  And there weren’t too many families older than mine.  So the king arranged a marriage of his newborn daughter with my parents while my mother was still pregnant with me.  I had always wondered what would have happened if I had been born a female instead.

 

My mother squeezed my shoulder in support.  “You’ll be fine Gaire.  The Princess is very beautiful and supposedly very sweet.  She’ll make you a fine wife.”

 

“What am I to do with a wife mother?” I asked voicing what had always been known but never voiced before.  “What kind of husband can I possibly make for her?  How long before she figures it out and runs to her father and I’m sent to the headsman?”

 

I looked at my mother and saw tears running down her cheeks.  “I’m so sorry my Gaire.  You’re father and I never meant to cause you pain.  If we had known…if we had known that you would prefer men… Oh Gaire!”

 

I knew my mother was hurting and I also knew how much that admission had cost her.  It wasn’t exactly illegal or shameful to be gay, but it was rarely spoken of.  And it was never acknowledged in the noble houses even though there were many that were.  Marriages of convenience were often used to cover such things, but it was doubtful that such a thing would be tolerated for the heir to the throne. 

 

My mother quickly got her emotions back under control.  “It will work out Gaire,” she said, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself than me.  “What happens between a husband and wife in the bedroom is really a minor part of the time you will spend together. “  A small blush started to form on her cheeks. 

 

The smile I gave my mother was forced, but I wanted to let her know I would try my best.  Besides, this really wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with my mother.  I wasn’t sure I wanted to have this conversation with anyone.

 

It seemed like only moments before I heard the carriage pull up in front of our house that the king had sent to pick up his future son-in-law.  I gave myself a final look in the mirror before I headed towards the entranceway wondering what was to come.  I could distantly hear a deep male voice ask if I was ready and heard the murmur of my father’s reply.  I couldn’t suppress a small shiver at that voice, but I told myself it was simply nerves of a soon to be husband.  Besides I needed to suppress those kinds of reactions.

 

I stumbled as I reached the bottom of the steps and saw the messenger that had been sent to collect.  A more beautiful man I don’t think I have ever seen.  His dark hair framed his face in waves and was a perfect match for his dark green eyes.  Just the hint of a beard graced his strong jaw framing his smiling face.  He had broad shoulders and a full chest that tapered down in a classic V. 

 

“You must be Gaire,” he spoke as he reached out to catch me before I fell.  “My cousin is most anxious to meet you.  Truthfully so am I since I am to be one of your gentlemen in waiting.  I’m sure we will become quite close as time goes by.  I am Prince Marc by the way.”

 

“Uh…gentleman in waiting,” I mumbled, confused by this perfect specimen of manhood.  What was a prince doing playing messenger?  And how on earth was I to stay focused when this man’s presence scattered my thoughts.

 

Marc smiled even bigger as he led me towards the carriage.  “Yes.  No husband to the heir can be left without a companion and my uncle chose me.”  Marc leaned in closer to my ear and I shivered once again as his warm breath brushed my ears.  “Truthfully the king is trying to keep me in my place since the former king was my father,” Marc whispered.  “I, however, am more than pleased to serve you.  There are so few men in the palace close to my age.  I’m looking forward to the adventures we are sure to have.”  Marc paused and looked right in my eye, smiling impishly.  “I’m really looking forward to getting to know you quite….intimately.”

 

I gaped at Marc in astonishment and I’m sure my eyes had to look a little wild.  Luckily Marc was busy bowing to my parents and saying his goodbyes.  I was fairly sure he missed my total befuddlement.  But he couldn’t possibly be saying what I thought he was saying could he?  No.  This man was much too handsome and manly to be interested in me in anyway.  And that was assuming he even preferred men in the first place.  I was positive I had to be imagining things.   I told myself I was just nervous and seeing things as I’d like them, not what was really there.

 

Marc settled in the seat across from me as the carriage lurched forward.  There was a twinkle in his eye as he stared at me and I began to feel uncomfortable once again.  “My cousin is certainly a lucky woman,” Marc finally said breaking the silence.  “You really are quite handsome.”

 

I felt my stomach lurch once again as confusion washed over me once again.

 

 

[joann414]

Loved this Greg!