Author's Note: Like the summary says, this is the first of a series of one-shots in an AU with arranged marriage. I apologize to you Maxerica shippers, but that pairing will never appear. Reviews are appreciated- I'd love to hear any suggestions for making my writing better, your opinion on the story, and the like. Enjoy!
Maxon gazed evenly at the floor-to-ceiling mirror in his bathroom. His mother had insisted that he use it- something about it aiding him in preparations for the "big day." He snorted in disdain, then chastised himself. By appealing to his mother, he had postponed the inevitable by over a year. King Clarkson had begun to plan on his son's eighteenth birthday, but his wife had managed to convince him that Maxon wasn't ready. His birthday had come and gone since then, and his father's patience had thinned. The plans were revived. The king assumed that a year was ample time for a heart to change. His only son retained doubts, but it wouldn't make a difference. Clarkson would be delayed no longer; Illéa needed a princess.
The crown prince blinked. Dwelling on the past wouldn't slow the future's approach. He refocused on the mirror and attempted to stare himself down. If Amberly wanted him to use the thing, he owed it to his mother to use it. Maxon observed, motionless, as a whirlwind of servants flew around him-one parting his blond hair, another fastening the buttons on his silk shirt, yet another anxiously waiting to put on his suit jacket. After what seemed like an eternity, he was deemed presentable. He sighed in relief as the final servant bowed and backed out of his room.
The mirror again reclaimed his attention. Clearing his throat, Maxon attempted a winning smile. It didn't look too terrible, if a winning smile was supposed to be a twisted grimace. He tried again and only succeeded in looking like he was in pain. This thought brought a genuine smile to his lips, and he stood in place grinning like a fool.
"Highness, if you can smile like that for the cameras, this interview is sure to go splendidly."
Maxon jumped, then turned to face Sylvan, his mother's advisor. "How long have you-"
"Been here? Never mind that now, sir. We must go; your parents are waiting with Mr. Fadaye." The advisor gestured smartly at the door he was holding.
Maxon straightened and strode out of his chamber. As he neared the Ball Room and interview location, Sylvan hurried forward to open the door. From the far end, Queen Amberly smiled warmly at her son. She nudged her husband, who trapped Maxon in a glower.
"Prince Maxon!" Gavril Fadaye excitedly hurried towards the prince. He bowed deeply and grinned like a child with sweets. "I trust you are ready for the announcement?"
Maxon smiled tightly. "Gavril, always a pleasure. As for the announcement, I am ready to perform my duty to the nation."
The reporter nodded happily and allowed him to join his parents. Maxon sat in his throne-like chair and swallowed his nerves. An iron grip clamped down on his wrist. Startled, the prince's brown eyes jumped to his father's steely ones.
"We are going to show the citizens just how happy we are about your upcoming marriage, are we not?"
The king's voice was low, but Maxon could hear the threat beneath the words. He choked back a gulp. "Naturally, Father."
The grip left his arm and Clarkson resumed staring at the wall. Maxon winced and resisted the urge to massage his wrist. He had to keep up appearances. Amberly's brow was furrowed, so he winked at her and grinned. His mother relaxed slightly.
After what felt like no time, one of the camera operators shouted, "All right, Your Majesties! Going live in 5, 4, 3, 2,..."
Lights flashed as Gavril strode forward to greet an invisible audience.
"Ladies and Gentleman, Boys and Girls. Welcome, one and all, to the palace, here in the scenic province of Angeles! As you all know, I am here today for a momentous occasion. That's right! Our beloved Prince Maxon has finally become eligible for matrimony."
Watching, Maxon had to admit that Mr. Fadaye was a professional. He knew exactly how to treat the populace.
"You heard me, citizens! King Clarkson here will be reaching an agreement with the parents of the lucky girl who will become the princess fourteen days from now. To offer your daughter, just fill out one of these simple applications."
Gavril brandished a handful of official looking documents, waving them excitedly. He smiled and waltzed over to Clarkson's throne.
"So, Highness. You will be selecting a bride for your son. As the chooser, what advice do you have for the excited families out there? Any particular qualities you are looking for in a daughter-in-law?"
The king regarded the camera evenly. "Why yes, Gavril, I am looking for certain traits. My son will have only the best. The princess will be well-educated and courteous. In addition, while looks are not as important as strong moral fiber, I'm sure that Prince Maxon would appreciate a beautiful bride. Lastly, a large dowry is never a detriment."
Clarkson chuckled. The reporter laughed politely and turned back to the camera.
"Yes, Your Majesty. Never a detriment. Very good, very good! Now, before I leave our lovely royals in peace, we must know how the groom-to-be feels about all of this!"
Maxon plastered a smile on his face as a microphone was thrust in it.
"Well, Gavril, I'm really quite exhilarated by the prospect. Our country is filled with lovely young ladies, and I'm sure my father will find one suitable for me. He knows me very well, you know."
Somehow, Gavril's grin grew wider. He spread his arms out. "There you are, everyone! Remember to fill out your applications as soon as possible. They have been delivered in the mail to all households with eligible young women. Thank you for your time, and have an excellent day!"
The camera blinked off, and the reporter's arms dropped. He took a ragged breath and wiped away the beads of sweat on his forehead.
The King and Queen rose from their chairs. Snapping back to reality, Maxon quickly stood. His father's voice echoed in the room.
"Thank you for doing this for us, Mr. Fadaye. As usual, you do not disappoint."
"Yes, thank you," Amberly added. She noticed a maid in the corner. "Lucy, fetch him a glass of water, would you?"
Gavril beamed at the praise. "My pleasure, Your Majesties. I will be coming back in two weeks, yes?"
The King nodded, and Lucy returned with the water. The weary reporter guzzled it, then bowed deeply and backed out of the Ball Room. His crew, who had already finished breaking down the studio equipment, followed him. The three royals were left standing in an empty chamber.
By morning, the first of the documents, most from Angeles, had reached the King retreated to a private study to scrutinize each one. Maxon was grateful for this, because that meant the servants delivered them to the study instead of tearing through the halls, yelling about twenty delivered from Honduragua or seventeen from Carolina. Listening to that racket made his stomach twist in knots.
As the moment of truth drew closer, Maxon often fled to the gardens with his camera. The servants knew better than to bother him there, so he could photograph the immaculate landscaping to his heart's content. Unfortunately, he lost interest in flowers and shrubs after only a few days. Not very many of the pictures were worth keeping, regardless.
Similarly, hunting was unable to hold his interest. Normally, the prince could lay in wait for hours on end, but now he became antsy after fewer than thirty minutes. The wait had sapped the entertainment from all of his favorite activities.
Maxon's father was unhelpful in relieving his anxiety, and refused to reveal anything about the deciding process. The television offered more information, but Maxon rapidly learned to avoid it. The programs constantly detailed the vast amount of familes who had given their daughters as potential brides for "our beloved prince, Maxon Schreave". He had never even had a proper girlfriend, and knowing that thousands of girls from across his country wanted to marry him was overwhelming.
On the day of reckoning, the prince woke early. He stared at the ceiling for an incalculable amount of time before finding the motivation to get out of bed. It was hard to believe that today he would find out who he would spend his life with.
The morning's bustle blurred together- servants rushed in and out of his room, bringing clothes and food. By the time Maxon had snapped out of his stupor, Sylvan had once again arrived to escort him to the makeshift studio.
His stride reflected his nerves this time; it was disjointed and rushed. He didn't appear kingly in the slightest, but Sylvan knew better than to say anything about it. The advisor gave the prince a few seconds to collect himself before opening the door to the ballroom for him.
Maxon dutifully took his seat next to King Clarkson. His posture was rigid, and he was unable to relax when he tried to do so. As he stared at the cameras, time crawled by until a camera technician was once again counting down. The cameras started rolling, and Maxon belatedly plastered a smile on his face.
Gavril Fadaye bounced to the center of the stage. "Hello, citizens of this lovely nation! The day we have all been waiting for has arrived. King Clarkson has made his decision and will announce the to-be princess and bride to Prince Maxon!"
Gavril stepped aside so that the audience would have a clear view of the king. Clarkson stood.
"Esteemed subjects, when my son joined us in this ballroom today, he knew that he would learn who his wife will be. However, he did not realize that he would meet her on this very day. I present to you my future daughter-in-law, Elise Whisks of Angeles!"
The servants pulled open the double doors with a flourish. The cameras turned towards a beautiful young woman, who began to approach Maxon. Elise's New Asian roots could be clearly seen in her appearance. She wore a yellow gown that accented her figure and complemented her tan skin. Her dark hair had been pulled into an elegant twist above her shoulders. Her face was adorned with a shy yet proud smile. Already, Elise looked like a queen.
She glided towards the royals. Maxon noticed that his mother had risen, so he quickly followed suit. Elise approached the king first, curtsying to him.
"Thank you for this honor, your Highness. I only hope that I can live up to your expectations."
The King dipped his head, signaling for Elise to continue. She glided towards Amberly, whose eyes lit up as the girl curtsied. The queen extended her hand, which her soon-to-be daughter-in-law kissed softly.
After a discreet nod from Queen Amberly, Elise straightened. She turned to face Maxon and curtsied to him as well, keeping her eyes on him instead of bowing her head. Her voice was low and melodious.
"Prince Maxon."
Maxon reached for and tenderly grasped her hand. "Miss Whisks, you look simply dazzling."
He gently guided her until she stood beside him, their fingers intertwined. Clarkson and Amberly began to applaud; Gavril and his crew did the same. Elise beamed at the cameras.
"Ladies and Gentleman, know that the young couple that you see before you is Illéa's future. It appears bright indeed! Remember this as you return to your jobs and your families. Good day, everyone!"
Mr. Fadaye grinned wider than Maxon would have thought possible, and, just like that, the transmission blinked off. He bantered with the royals as his crew disassembled, complimenting Elise on her beauty and poise; praising the King's choice. The prince felt a shiver of excitement pass through her; he met her eyes and smiled warmly. The country's new power couple linked arms and maneuvered to face Maxon's parents.
Maxon could not recall the last time his father had looked so proud of him. Amberly rushed forward, embracing him and Elise in turn. She was nearly breathless with excitement.
"Oh, you both look ravishing. Just wait until the wedding! Planning must begin at once!"
The queen would have gushed for the remainder of the day, but Clarkson held up his hand for silence.
"Amberly, would you care to fetch Miss Whisks' welcome gift?" He regarded the girl amiably. "It's nothing extravagant, but the queen and I felt that one more wedding gift would not hurt anything."
The Queen returned. "Bow your head, dear."
Elise complied, and Maxon watched as his mother clasped a diamond necklace around his fiancé's neck. When she straightened, he saw a blue jewel glittering at her throat. Following his gaze, Elise's dark eyes lighted on the jewel, and she gasped. Professions of gratitude poured from her lips.
The king smiled at the girl. He engaged her in polite conversation, glancing at his son after each eloquent response to his questions.
Maxon raised an eyebrow. His father wanted to impress Maxon with Elise's knowledge, and it was working. He turned his gaze to her. The prince could see why Clarkson had picked Miss Whisks. Her New Asian heritage offered the potential to end the war; her family was rich enough to give the large dowry his father had joked about. She was certainly well-mannered enough to be a princess. As he watched his bride-to-be, he noticed something about her that had probably been the deciding factor for his father.
Elise seemed very submissive, even during a simple conversation. King Clarkson challenged her opinions multiple times, and she would concede the point without fail. It was slightly unnerving to the prince. His father might be attracted to subservience, but in the last fortnight, Maxon had imagined himself with a vivacious firecracker of a girl. Marriage was supposed to be entertaining, right?
Clarkson gestured at his son, and Elise spun around to face him. He strode forward and knelt before her, raising her hand to his lips and kissing it. She giggled softly.
"Lady Elise, may you find happiness with me here."
She dipped her head, a small, alluring smile on her face. "My Prince, Maxon."
At his name, the prince rose. She pulled him closer, and he leaned down to place his lips on hers in a chaste kiss.