"I apologize again for my brother's sudden disappearance."
Elijah wrapped his arms around his back, comfortably clinging to his forearms as he smiled politely and glanced over at his companion.
Beside him, Constance shook her head, making her mahogany curls roll and bounce around in her topknot before she met his gaze and gave him a genuine smile. In just a short time, he was realizing she had a pleasant personality and was more unflappable than he'd first believed. Marrying her wasn't what he'd planned for himself, but it would be a good, political marriage. He was the best one to carry out such a task, after all. As the day wore on, he'd decided he could easily do this, and, as was his nature, he would care for the human girl as best he could.
"There's no need to apologize, Monsieur," she reassured him, dropping her hands down into her skirts as she walked along beside him. She wasn't as prim and proper as the queen, but Elijah couldn't say that he minded. Constance didn't have the natural smoothness to her gait like a highborn, but she seemed genuine in a society that was fraught with fallacies and put-on kindness.
Elijah smiled a bright smile and raised his eyebrows ever so slightly as he cast a look over at her, half-turning his upper body as he continued walking smoothly alongside her. "Didn't I tell you you could call me Elijah?" he reminded her, getting another smile out of her. He could be as charming as his younger brothers. He was merely a bit out of practice.
"There's no need to apologize, Elijah," she repeated herself, her eyes twinkling as she grinned at him. As she made eye contact with him, she cleared her throat and then glanced away, remembering it was inappropriate for a lady to flirt with a gentleman, even a gentleman to whom she was due to be married.
Sensing her discomfiture, he glanced away and then gestured toward an open stone bench along the edge of the garden path. Quietly, she accepted the suggestion and headed toward it, spinning her hips and sitting all in one fluid movement so her dress was appropriately spread out around her, waterfalling to the ground on one edge of the bench but leaving enough space for him to sit on the opposite side. Gracefully, he lowered himself, sitting straight-backed as he cast his appraising gaze across the gardens, admiring the space.
The royal gardens certainly were a marvel, and he enjoyed spending time here. After Klaus's sudden disappearance on their horseback ride through the countryside, he'd chaperoned the queen and his fiancée back to the palace. The queen had departed surprisingly fast upon arriving on the grounds, returning to her rooms but ordering that Constance enjoy herself. He sensed it was another ploy to help them get to know one another better, but he didn't entirely mind it.
Yes, his initial plan had backfired in his face. Instead of Niklaus marrying and settling his wild nature (at least to some degree), Elijah was beset with the obligation. However, the longer the thought upon it, he recognized it was wiser to put the task upon himself. He was more levelheaded than any of his siblings, and he could best care for a wife and help them fit into society as a whole. Honestly, he was a bit disappointed in himself that he hadn't recognized it sooner in the midst of his attempt at foiling his brother's basest nature.
"Have you been in the queen's care for long, milady?" Elijah asked Constance, pulling his attention away from his thoughts and putting it on her. While most men thought women as lesser beings, Elijah did not. If she was going to be his wife, he wanted her to feel comfortable enough to talk to him.
He also wasn't a fool. He knew she would find out about their being vampires sooner or later. He wouldn't be able to hide it from her forever. Of course, he fully intended to carefully compel her so as to protect her and his family, but it was inevitable. She would live a complicated life as his wife, and he preferred her to enter it as comfortably as possible. Besides, he had no desire to marry a woman he didn't know, even if this was an arranged marriage.
"Just a few months," she admitted. "My father thought it a good way to socialize me, and for me to find a husband."
His suspicions had been correct.
Elijah gave her a pleasant smile, a touch of amusement lighting his dark eyes as she glanced shyly over at him. Seeing his smile seemed to relax her, and he heard the nervous beating of her heart settle slightly.
"I understand that an arranged marriage isn't every young lady's dream," he noted, still watching her out of the sides of his eyes.
Constance blushed instantly but drew herself up, lifting her chin in a way that emulated her patroness. She appeared to be a quick study: another fact Elijah liked about her.
"It's more than some could hope for," she pointed out, settling her hands in her lap so her knuckles were consumed by the fabric. She didn't seem overjoyed, and he couldn't blame her. Although she was right, and arranged marriage would help her (and other young women like her) to rise in station, it wasn't love. Didn't bright young women like her want love? Or perhaps they had been trained from such a young age to value wealth and comfort that love no longer mattered. Secretly, that was a thought which hurt his heart, that the world would become such a dismal place so that the relationship between a man and his wife would become purely perfunctory. It was an idea he didn't relish.
Watching her as she kept her eyes trained away from him and across the garden, Elijah twisted at his waist and effortlessly plucked a rose from the bush growing within arm's reach of the bench. Spinning it between his forefinger and thumb, he brought it around and held it in front of her, catching her attention and bringing it back to him. Surprise dawned across her face and her eyebrows rose as she looked from the flower over at him. When he didn't pull it back, but instead held it closer to her and gave her a smile, she politely accepted it, careful not to prick herself on the thorns.
"I do hope you will be happy, Constance," he admitted sincerely. "It has become my responsibility to insure that your life is a good one, and I promise I will do my best."
Her eyes grew wide with inexplicable emotion as she rested the rose and her hands in her lap, and he could hear the pleasant flutter to her heart as she focused on him. She opened her mouth to speak, perhaps to thank him, but before she could utter a word, their peace was ruptured as a storm of golden fabric and hair materialized on the path.
Blinking in surprise as his sister came into view, Elijah sat back, a look of consternation riddling his face as Rebekah stopped suddenly as if just noticing she was not alone. Anger marred her face and she looked like she'd been crying, or was ready to, and he rose from his seat in an instant to see to her.
However, before he could get close, she pulled in a sharp, practiced breath and held up her hand to stop him. Dropping her skirts, she composed herself as best she could, not wanting Constance to see her in this state. She was quite clearly upset, and she was embarrassed that she hadn't remained completely alone as she stormed out of the castle to the seclusion of the gardens.
"Rebekah…" he began, but she plastered a fake smile on her face, her blue eyes glassy as she looked past him at Constance.
"I have heard of your engagement. Congratulations to you both," she remarked sunnily, straightening her arms like rods around her back. Clasping her fingers through each other, she thrust her chest outward and turned and overly bright look on her eldest brother, giving him a smile that was far more threatening than pleasant.
Elijah's gaze darkened since he could easily recognize she was upset and covering it up. They held a silent glaring match for a moment, Rebekah's false smile looking painted across her face as he frowned at her.
"Thank you." Constance's pleasant voice sounded out of place in the sibling tension, but it diffused Elijah's mounting frustration instantly. Remembering himself and his manners, he took a step back and pulled in a breath. Rebekah didn't move, but she cast her strained smile toward her fellow lady-in-waiting. Constance, although human, seemed far more perceptive than Elijah had initially given her credit for, and she kept a polite, calming smile on her face even as Rebekah, who was far more severe both in looks and personality, struggled to remain pleasant.
Blinking, momentarily taken aback by Constance's stolid resilience to her frothing anger, Rebekah's lips parted as she feigned a breath. "Excusez moi," she remarked, her voice nearly shaking as she tried to contain herself.
With that, she hustled away, gathering her dress in her hands as she struggled not to move faster than any normal human could. Elijah watched as she moved away, disappearing deeper into the gardens, before he sighed and returned to his seat beside Constance.
"I'm-"
"There's no need to apologize," she spoke up before he could, giving him a slight smile as he turned a bewildered look on her, wondering how she'd guessed. "I have sisters, all younger than me. We ladies have a way about us, do we not?" She smiled brighter then, making him smile in response.
"You are bewildering and enchanting creatures," he answered, smiling genuinely as he relaxed onto the stone bench.
She lifted her chin proudly, squaring her shoulders in a cute way which kept his smile on his lips. "The idea is to be mysterious, no?" she asked. She was beginning to relax around him, and they were developing a repertoire that he was enjoying.
"Is it?" he asked, cocking his head slightly.
"I like to think so," she continued, pursing her lips as she spun the rose in her lap. "If gentlemen could guess each of our thoughts, there wouldn't be much fun to life, would there?"
"Certainly not," he answered easily, his interest in her growing as she fell into her real self. Now that it was only the two of them and they could talk this way, she was showing him more of who she actually was. He was glad for it.
However, before either of them could say another word, they were interrupted yet again as a second blur of motion appeared from the direction of the castle.
"Lijah!" Kol cried out, dramatically sweeping into view, throwing his musketeer cloak out with one hand and doing a half-turn so it flailed out around his shoulders. Elijah rolled his eyes before he could stop himself, and he could practically hear it as Constance raised her eyebrows in surprise and amusement. There were times when Kol was far more dramatic than any of them.
"Kol…" He spoke his brother's name evenly, his displeasure at being interrupted showing in his eyes as he huffed a quiet breath through his nose.
The moment Kol weaved forward drunkenly, he noticed the glazed look in his younger brother's eyes and the red accent at the corner of his mouth. Rising instantly from his seat, the elder brother protectively stepped forward as Kol's gaze flickered toward his human companion.
"You've been drinking," Elijah accused in a low voice, his eyes sparking with unspoken meaning. Kol laughed wickedly, his teeth gleaming.
"How right you are, brother," he answered, noticing Constance past his older brother's shoulder. His insatiable thirst flickered across his face.
"And I am not quite satisfied," he noted in a low tone.
He moved in a flash, intent to step around and go for Constance's throat, not caring that it was broad daylight.
Just as fast, Elijah stepped sideways, his left hand flattening against Kol's chest, stopping him with enough force that Kol stumbled backwards a step. Elijah's dark eyes simmered with annoyance. He hated this sort of behavior in public. It was inappropriate and gauche, and furthermore, it endangered their family's safety among their human lessers.
"Mind your manners," Elijah ordered him in a hard tone.
"Unable to share, 'Lijah?" Kol asked, a sly smirk settling against the corner of his mouth.
"Remember your place - our place," Elijah interjected firmly, having no patience for such behavior.
Kol's eyes flashed with a moment of hurt, but he was quick to cover it with another dark smile. Flourishing his light blue cloak out again with a kick of his hand, he rested his palm against the pommel of his sword. Lifting his other hand, he nonchalantly wiped a drop of blood from the corner of his mouth with his glove.
"I am aware, dear brother," he drawled, his tone bitter. Snorting sardonically, he reached out to shove Elijah against his chest. Due to his blood drunkenness, the shove didn't move his older brother an inch, and he stalked angrily away.
Elijah remained standing stiffly for a long moment, embarrassed by his brother's behavior, and formulating a formal apology to his wife-to-be. Slowly, he turned to face Constance where she still sat on the stone bench. As he opened his mouth, but before he could formulate his comment, Constance was on her feet. Her dress rustled audibly with her movement, catching his attention. She gave him a sweet smile and shook her head to silence him before he could speak.
"It seems you could benefit from an escape," she pointed out, bringing a curious look to his face.
"Come with me? I know something that you may enjoy."
With that, she slipped her arm through his elbow and applied gentle pressure, directing him toward the palace.