Chapter 1: London Gazette
London, England, May 1815.
"Prince James is looking for a wife! Ask for the London Gazette!"
"Contest for love! Biggest event of the century! The Morning Chronicle, two pence!"
"Royal Wife-Hunter! Read all about it in the London Packet!"
Mainstreet was full of Newspaper callers and gentlemen were fighting to get one. The front-page headline was spicy as ever and everyone loved new gossip.
Especially Earl Henry Windsor who bought them all. There was nothing like the freshest news just out of the printing office, still staining his fingers with the ink not yet dry. But this was different. What on earth was Prince James up to? Last he'd heard, he had put a cross on marrying ever again. And that had been just last night.
He opened the London Gazette and read the article in question, still walking towards the palace, his morning destination.
-x-
PRINCE JAMES MARRYING AGAIN?
After 4 years of widowhood, His Royal Highness Prince James Schreave, first in line for the throne of England, will be hosting a Selection to find his future wife. A group of young women will be invited to the Palace to compete for his hand in marriage and in return will receive a weekly compensation of 2£ for their presence in this event, for as long as they stay. Only one will win his heart and marry him.
If you wish to compete in this extraordinary event, you must:
- Be female;
- Be between the ages of twenty and twenty-five;
- Be unmarried at the moment;
- Be of any status in society;
- Be of the British Isles (England, Wales, Ireland, or Scotland);
- Be willing to be a mother to Princess Eleanor and give the Prince a male Heir.
To apply, please cut out this page from the Newspaper and fill in the application in the back and send it to Buckingham Palace, London, before the end of the Month. A public drawing of the names will be held in Hyde Park, London, by the Prince himself on June tenth at 5 pm. The Selected Ladies will be contacted personally in the following weeks. Good Luck!
-x-
Henry went through all the newspapers he had bought, and all said the same thing. Whoever had written this announcement had probably sent it to every newspaper that existed in the British Isles. He had bumped into more than one gentleman on his way, keeping his nose glued to the paper, but he didn't mind. Maybe they had, but Henry was much too excited about this news – surprised as well if he had to be honest with himself – and he wanted to be the first to congratulate the prince.
The guards at the Buckingham Palace gates recognized him – after coming almost every day, it helped – and let him in. He crossed the big courtyard in front of the Palace and was guided inside by a footman who then told him to wait for someone to come get him.
Henry paced the floor of the entrance hall – all the previous kings looking down at him from their golden frames made him a little self-conscious – until the butler came in.
"Do you have an audience, sir?"
"Come on, Carson," Henry said. "You know me. I don't have audiences planned with the prince. He's expecting me all the time!"
"Yes…" Carson agreed though he didn't seem very happy about it. "Very well, then." He bowed to the Earl. "Please follow me."
Henry obliged even though he knew the Palace like the back of his hand. Growing up the son of one of the King's closest advisors had its perks, and one of them was being Prince James' closest friend who didn't need to have an audience with him to see him. He diligently followed Mr. Carson down halls and through doors, until he stopped in front of the familiar double doors to the prince's personal apartments. How many hours had he spent there, drinking whiskey with his friend? Listening to him rant about this or that? Too many to count.
The butler said something in low tones to the valet waiting near the door and he went inside relaying the message. He came back a minute later – even though it felt like an hour to Henry. "Follow me, Sir."
Henry grinned and followed the young valet inside. Behind his desk, the Prince was eating his breakfast – alone – and reading a report or something.
"James!" Henry said, opening his arms in his usual greeting way. "Congratulations! I knew you'd come to your senses and finally move forward!"
James finished swallowing his toast with butter and jam, frowning. "What on earth are you talking about, Henry?"
Henry's face fell. "I- Uhm… The announcement in the Newspapers? It is all over the place! All over the British Isles!" He hesitated before handing him the paper, quickly hiding it behind his back.
"Show me that," James ordered, holding out his hand. But Henry took a step back, knowing fairly well how angry James could become, and he did not want to be on the receiving end of one of his fists. Henry was always slower and heavier than the prince, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to parry it, especially after his brisk walk to the Palace – from which he was still a bit breathless: that had been his daily sport.
James stood, a tad bit too frighteningly for Henry's taste, so the Earl gave him the newspaper. The prince couldn't miss the article, since it was on the front page with an illustration of himself in the middle. He read it quickly and ended his reading by crumpling the paper in his fist and downing the last few drops of coffee in his cup. He shouldered his suit jacket and headed outside, evading Henry at the last moment, too angry to do a detour around the fat man.
"James, wait!" Henry said. "Maybe this is just a joke!"
"It is not," the prince growled. He went directly to his father's office, where the King was also taking his breakfast alone when breakfast was usually a social meal. "What is this?" the prince thundered, slamming the crumpled newspaper in his father's dish, breaking it in the process.
"Ah, I see you've noticed the announcement," the King said, unphased. "You agreed to it."
"I- What? I did no such thing!"
"Last week," the King replied. "You said you'd agree to marry again."
James snorted and Henry could already see the wheels turning in his friend's mind, trying to remember what had happened the week before. But apparently, he could not.
"I said Eleanor needed a mother," the King explained, "and you said, and I quote: 'You're right, she does.' So, you see, for your daughter to have a mother, you need a wife. One who can give you a proper Heir, as well."
James balled his fists at his sides, glaring at his father. "Eleanor is my Heir. I don't need another."
"Son," the King said, taking away the newspaper from the table. "A girl cannot be an Heir. You need a son. Therefore, you need a wife. That is why you are going to do this little Selection over the Summer Break, once the Season is over." He paused, gathering the pieces of broken plate and putting them aside. "Besides, the announcement has already been sent everywhere in the British Isles, there is no turning back. Deal with it and let me finish my breakfast in peace."
James stormed out of the room, leaving Henry with the King. The Earl quickly bowed and walked away, not knowing what to do. But as the bon-vivant he was, he decided to cheer James up and try to convince him to do this. He went back to the Prince's apartments.
"James, hear me out."
"I don't want to," James retorted. "I know what you're going to say."
"And what's that?" Henry challenged him.
James stayed silent. Henry knew he didn't want to talk about his late wife or his daughter. But he had to do it.
"James," he said with as much compassion as the situation called for. "You need to do this. You can't stay like this, a shell of who you used to be. You need to move forward!" He paused, waiting to see if James would say anything; he didn't. So, Henry continued. "And your father is right about one thing: you need a son. Find a wife, someone you at least like a little, and let her give you a son. Then that's it." He paused again, and this time James looked at him, sending daggers. "At least for companionship and to warm your bed–"
"You know I don't need that." James cut him.
"Yes, I know, but you can't always go to a cold bed, alone. You need companionship, a woman to come back to in the evenings, and someone to soften up that stone heart of yours."
"Says the man who doesn't want to marry," James retorted. "Do you even like women?" This conversation had come back again and again, and Henry was used to it.
"Of course, I do. Just not the same way you do– or you used to." He paused. "I find great comfort in their friendship, but marriage is not for me, my friend." And it would never be.
There was a long silence in the room as James slowly walked to the window, gazing out over the busy city. For once the sun was shining. It was the second half of the Season, and he could remember the exact details of the first time he had met her.
Henry actually saw him shake the memory away and then James turned around, his hands behind his back and his brow furrowed. "Fine. I'll do it."
"Great!–"
"But under two conditions."
"I don't think I'm the right person to which to address those conditions," Henry said. "Which ones?"
"First, we don't do this in London, but in Brighton. It will be more private."
"Sounds doable," Henry said. "And the second one?"
"My father stays away from the whole event and you take over everything."
Henry's eyes went as wide as saucepans, but how could he say no to the prince and his best friend? He nodded once. "Fine. I'll do it."
Hello! welcome to my new SYOC, all the info and form are on my profile! ;) see ya soon! and can't wait to see your OCs! bye!
