A/N: OMG we are so close to the end loves! There's only like, two more chapters left! Sorry for the little cliffy the one is going to end on, but I'll try to update with the next installment soon to not leave you hanging! Love you all to bits, hope you enjoy, and make sure to keep giving me your love as well! XOXOX!

And to my guest reviewer anna, who was inquiring about a sequel/prequel to Photographs and Memories, sadly I did not plan to continue writing that plot, so sorry. It was written specifically for a friend during a hard time in their life, and I feel the story ended nicely the way it did.

Chapter Nine

The morning of the wedding arrived just as any other. The sun was shining in the sky, the clouds white and fluffy over the land of Eraklyon. It would be a lovely day for festivities as sovereigns from every land came rolling in by the dozens to witness the union of Prince Sky and Princess Diaspro. One of those sovereigns happened to be Prince Sky himself, only just arriving back from his journey to the tower. He had thought he gave himself more time than he had and had to push his horse to the breaking point in order to make it to the palace at a decent hour.

Of course, he was still eons late. The morning bells had already run, the sun rising by the minute. He would have to rush to make himself presentable. He could not walk down the aisle covered in sweat and dirt from his travels. It would not do, and Diaspro would surely riot at the sight of him.

The Prince was on his way to his chambers to freshen up when he was delayed by one of the people he'd wished to see least.

"SKY! Where is that boy?" King Erendor's voice boomed down the hall, causing the Prince to shudder.

His father mad was not a pretty sight, and neither were the whippings that usually followed his insubordination. He knew that nothing of the like would occur on such a momentous occasion where all eyes would be watching, but that did not stop the Prince from flinching at the memory. Still, hiding from his father would do him no better than facing him, so the Prince mustered up all the courage he could to make it through the meeting.

"Here, father," Prince Sky called reluctantly, walking towards the off-put, red-faced man.

"Thank the heavens! Where have you been?" the king demanded, his hands folded in front of his chest. "You are to be married in two hours, and this is the first anyone sees of you!"

"I was delayed in my return, but I hastened to make it here on time," he replied, though he had not the gall to tell his father his delay was made purposely as he rode circles around the Eraklyan border, debating on whether or not to go home or keep riding onward until he could ride no more.

"Well I hope this venture of yours was worth the trouble you caused your mother and I, not to mention your bride," his father huffed, and though the Prince could not see his father's mouth through his thick beard, he knew he was frowning.

"I'm sorry to have caused you any distress father," Prince Sky apologized, making sure to bow slightly to show his father respect.

"It is not I you should apologize to, it is to the Princess Diaspro! She was in tears last I saw her, and your poor mother...her heart couldn't take the shame of a son who would abandon his bride along with his family's honor."

That was a clear jab at the Prince's intentions, one that left him stung. His father knew how much his honor and family meant to him. To insinuate that he would sully those two things was an insult. However, the Prince did not speak back to his father, taking the abuse as it came and awaiting his father's instruction that was soon to follow.

"Go and get ready. I expect to see you at the altar in two hours sharp, not a moment later."

"Yes, father."

Prince Sky bowed once more, turning to leave this time without a second glance behind him. His father was surely scowling at his backside, imaging all the ways he would have punished him had he gotten the opportunity. The Prince had never been so grateful for guests in his entire life.

The path to his chambers was a straight one, the Prince pushing past his doors in a matter of moments, wasting no time in stripping down to nothing and dipping into his bath. The water was tepid, probably left sitting for a while as the servants awaited his return. Still, he was scrubbed clean of all grime and toweled off, his skin a healthy pink and free of blemishes.

He was dressed in new clothes for the ceremony, his jacket and trousers a bright white trimmed in gold and blue. His boots were polished to a shine and the blue sash signaling his royal status was pinned across his chest along with a heavy golden chain embedded with sapphires and pearls. A crown was placed on his head - a golden band that sat comfortably across his brow. When he looked in the mirror, he was faced with the man his father always wanted him to be: the strong, handsome ruler.

However, to the Prince, that man looked like a stranger.

"There you are!" Diaspro exclaimed, breaking him out of his trance, flinging herself from the doorway and rushing over to him.

She was dressed in her wedding gown, an extravagant showpiece full of white lace and silk, The train was so long that the maid following her had to work constantly to keep it flat on the ground and away from wandering feet. As stunning as she looked to everyone else, Prince Sky could not find the beauty in the moment. He was staring at his bride; he should have been overcome with awe and devotion. Instead, he saw a woman in a dress, and that alone was enough to fill his mind with doubt.

"You worried me so," Diaspro continued, moving to adjust the blue sash pinned across his wedding jacket. "You promised me...you said the journey would only take you a few days and that you would return to me by the morning bells. The bells rang this morning without you, and I thought you'd run away...I felt so alone..."

"I am deeply sorry to have kept you waiting, milady," the Prince replied, his words nothing but an empty echo of what she wanted to hear.

Diaspro seemed pleased at his words, her smile creeping back up her rouged lips. She fixed him more, moved things about, pushed his hair to the side and repositioned his crown to her liking. When she was finished with him, she straightened herself, adjusting her sleeves and smoothing out the bodice. She was moving from side to side, and it took the Prince a moment to realize that she was trying to angle them so that they looked the most attractive together. The act looked so shallow, so vain that he could not stop himself from asking the question that plagued him the entire ride back to Eraklyon.

"Diaspro...do you love me?"

"What a silly question. Of course I do," she chided, frowning as she moved to fix her perfectly coiffed hair in the mirror.

"But what if I was not a prince, if I were just an ordinary person, like a servant in the palace? Would you love me then?"

"But you are a prince, so why pose the question?" Diaspro countered, still preoccupied with her reflection.

The Prince, tired of being ignored, pulled Diaspro gently from the mirror. She was displeased, but when she saw the look in his eyes, she did not make a sound. Instead, she waited patiently as the Prince placed both hands in hers, his expression full of conviction.

"Please, answer me," he requested once more.

"Fine," Diaspro sighed, clearly annoyed. "I suppose if you were a servant or even a squire such as your own, I would not give you the time of day. I would tell you to carry my bags or tend to my horse, and I surely would not consider marriage."

Her answer, though the honesty he wanted, was not the sweetest sound to grace his ears. He let go of her hands, his brow furrowed in thought as he processed her response.

"Oh, do not be so put out," Diaspro commanded, her hands on her hips. "You are a prince; I am a princess. We are simply meant to be. It was what we were born to do."

"Are you certain of that?"

"Of course. We will be married just as we have been expected to since our births. We will rule side by side over one of the largest kingdoms in all the land, and I will bear you strong, healthy sons to carry on our lineage. We will be the pinnacle of perfection, just wait and see."

The Prince tried to envision that future: a palace where he and his bride sat together at a table with their children by their sides, maybe even a hound or two to keep them busy. He tried to think of what a life with Diaspro would be like - if it would bring him joy and fulfillment. Perhaps on to those who looked in from the outside, but from the inside, he just could not get the image to cement.

"And what about our happiness?" he asked, the question timid as if he were embarrassed to ask.

"What of it?" Diaspro replied, and her callous tone made him cringe.

"Does not our happiness trump any sort of predestined expectation set by our parents?"

"We are royalty, Sky. Love and happiness are learned through years of duty and respect," Diaspro sighed as if she were tired of debating the topic. She walked up to him and placed her cold hands on his face, as if that could get her point across any clearer to make him see the situation the same way she did. "I love that you freed me from the tower and for that I will forever be in your debt. I love your handsome face, your title, and your family, but I do not pretend to love you. I hope to do so over time, just as I hope you will eventually learn to love me in return."

More words that made the Prince shudder. Though she did not know it, Diaspro was describing the relationship his parents shared. They were arranged since birth, and though his mother swore she grew to love his father, he could see in her eyes that she was unhappy. They had their moments where they could put on smiles, mostly for his sake, but the majority of their time they spent separated. His father respected his mother greatly, but he also had his fair share of mistresses which she chose to ignore while she buried herself in religion. They might have been fine living that way, but a house divided was not a tradition he wanted to continue. He wanted to do more than just respect his wife; he wanted to love her and for her to love him in return. Was that truly too much to ask?

"And you are fine living that way?"

"Are you not?" Diaspro asked in return, her expression one of genuine surprise. "Honestly, I do not know what has gotten into that mind of yours. Once we are married, I will have to have your travels supervised to ensure you return the same man."

The conversation was closed, Diaspro stepping away and back towards the mirror, leaving the Prince completely confused. Of course, she was oblivious to everything except herself, not caring that her future husband was having a crisis. The Prince may not have known exactly how he was feeling or what he had accomplished by dampening his wedding day, but the urge to run was now stronger than ever before. It was an urge he could never indulge. His honor and family name was attached to a wedding meant to happen in an hour's time. He would seal his fate to another woman he was sure was wrong for him and hope for his happiness to come to him in time. The idea made him sick.

"I am headed for my chambers. I am not a terribly superstitious person, but I would rather not push my luck to see too much of you before the wedding vows," Diaspro announced, gathering her dress and walking to place a kiss on his cheek. "I shall see you soon my darling."

"Milady," was all the Prince could muster in return.

He could not miss the disappointment that flittered across Diaspro's face before she schooled her expression back into something more jovial. She sauntered off down the hall, her dress taking ages to clear the doorway, before Prince Sky was truly left alone. His last hour of freedom.

The Prince spent his hour staring down at the people below. His window lent him the perfect view of the upper town, the hustle and bustle always making him feel closer to his subjects. He could see now all the excitement and preparations being made for a kingdom-wide celebration, the vendors setting up shop to sell special wares for the wedding featuring the happy couple while women walked around town selling roses to men to give their loved ones. It all looked so perfect, such a joyous time for everyone except him.

Eventually it was time to head towards the great hall. No doubt he would need to be early in order to make up for being late at the start. His steps were heavy and dragging, and anyone who passed would have commented that he looked as if he were headed towards and execution rather than his own wedding. The Prince made sure to smile as he caught sight of his father standing in front of the hall greeting his guests, knowing the man would be cross to see him frown in front of so many important royals.

"There you are my boy," King Erendor came up to clap him across the shoulder far harder than was necessary, but more to prove a point. Prince Sky did his best not to flinch under the sting of his father's hand, making sure to smile as guests filed into the great hall for the ceremony. "Are you ready?"

"As I ever will be, father," he replied, nodding in affirmation, hoping his actions would speak louder than words as the proper words seemed to be failing him.

"Good. No more funny business. I want this over with and the trade routes signed off on by the honeymoon."

"Trade routes?" Prince Sky asked, confused. This was the first he had heard of any trade routes, and he was unsure of what they had to do with his wedding.

"Yes, the ones I was promised by King Silas of Isis. His daughter's dowry came to us in solid gold and ruby, and there is more on the way. Just a taste of what is to come," King Erendor said gleefully, and Prince Sky could see the greed clouding his eyes. "Your union will serve Eraklyon well. For once, you may just prove yourself useful."

The Prince was blindsided by his father's gall, the sheer nerve the man had making his blood boil. How dare his father use him as a pawn for his own personal gain. He was not some cash cow used to fill the family vault.

"You mean the union will serve you well," Prince Sky replied, unable to control his anger.

"One and the same," King Erendor replied, his tone more clipped. He squeezed Prince Sky's shoulder once more for good measure before turning to walk into the great room. "I shall see you in there soon."

"Yes, father," Prince Sky replied stiffly, bowing curtly to his father.

King Erendor sneered before finding his wife and walking into the hall. The Prince could see his mother trying to ask his father what was wrong, but he denied her each time. His father's greed made the Prince mad, his blood boiling. The entire situation was completely ridiculous, everyone trying to plan his future without consulting him. He felt like a puppet, someone else's toy to poke and pull at as they pleased. Everyone was pushing him down the aisle, telling him to marry a stranger when every bone in his body was yelling for him to run back to the tower and track down every lead until he found which kingdom the Lady Bloom had absconded to.

It happened that he would not have to look far. For there, at the end of the hall in all her glory, stood the Lady Bloom.