1782

Genevieve

"Your Highness? Is everything alright?" Monsieur Gagne says as he taps my desk lightly, snapping me out of my reverie.

"I apologize," I say quickly, ducking my head, "I'm just having trouble focusing."

"You've been having trouble focusing since you came back, mademoiselle," he says looking at me with thinly veiled concern, "being jilted moments before your wedding is no small thing. Even if the Apollonian King was better suited for your sister."

I sigh. I don't want to admit it, but he's right. Even though I like Antonio much better as my brother-in-law than I would've if he'd been my husband, I had still created a thrilling idea of what my life in Apollonia might have been like.

In fairness, none of my fantasies ever included Antonio himself, they more centered around me ruling as regent should he ever need to leave the country for a long time, donning armor and giving a rousing speech to troops before battle like Katherine of Aragon, or turning Apollonia into an epicenter for intellectuals the way Palladia was, or even for musicians like Dulcemia.

"I would have been an excellent queen there," I say wistfully.

"You will be an excellent queen wherever you end up ruling, Your Highness," Monsieur Gagne smiles, giving me a wink before walking back to his armchair, "and I must confess, I was glad to hear my best pupil would be returning to Palladia."

I beam with pride at his praise. Even though our lessons have progressed to a point where we simply speak to one another for an hour in Latin about whatever we feel like, I never leave our conversations without feeling like I've learned something. I adore Monsieur Gagne, especially since both of my grandfathers died years before my birth, it often feels as though he is the closest I have.

"But you won't be here for long," he says with a smile, "How long until you leave for Dulcemia?"

I cannot help smiling. "A week. Brigitta and I have so many plans for what we're going to do. We want to show Ro everything she's missed since she's been gone."

"I'm afraid to ask what you're referring to."

"Please, it's nothing. We weren't allowed to go too deep into the forest when Ro was around, so we want to show her all of our favorite spots there. Like this little pond where we swim when it gets too hot. And Johannes found an observatory from centuries ago, and sometimes we all sneak there at night."

"Johannes, eh?" he teases with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "You're not at all excited to see him?"

"Of course I am," I say airily, "Johannes is just as dear to me as Brigitta."

"Hm," Monsieur Gagne says, "and you're not still half in love with him?"

I roll my eyes. "I made the mistake of telling you that when I was eleven, and you cannot seem to forget it!"

"So there is no affection there?"

"Of course there's affection, monsieur. But only because I've known him my entire life. We're practically family."

"Then you've forgotten about how many papers of yours I've seen with concept drawings of what your future coat of arms would look like if you married him?"

"I was eleven," I say again, and Gagne holds his hands up in surrender.

"You know I'm only teasing. I will be kind to whomever you end up marrying, even if he doesn't speak Latin as well as the Dulcemian prince."

"Thank you."

"But I don't think you could be happy with someone who isn't as intelligent as you are."

He's right again. But I also don't think I could be happy with someone who manages to turn me into an idiot whenever they're around. Even though my childhood infatuation with Johannes is gone, I still remember how much I longed and worked for his approval once. How I would hang onto his every word, and read the letters he wrote to Derek behind my brother's back, searching for any mention of my name. I never want to act like that again, not with Johannes or anyone else.

But it's not as though I'm going to tell Monsieur Gagne all of that. He may be my favorite tutor, but he's so much older than I am, and a man. There are just some things he'll never understand.

I open my mouth to change the subject, but Monsieur Gagne stands abruptly and bows.

"Your Highness," he says, switching to French. It's always jarring to hear him speak French, even though I know it's just as much his native language as it is mine.

I turn around to see my brother Derek standing in the doorway. I jump up in excitement, walking over to him.

"Derek! This is a surprise," I say as I hug him quickly. Derek and I are close, as twins are prone to be, but the education of a kingdom's princess versus its crown prince is very different, and I rarely see him during the day. Particularly since our fifteenth birthday, when his schooling shifted from tutors and lessons to spending most of the day with my mother in her study, shadowing her in preparation for when he inevitably becomes king.

"Yes, sir, to what do we owe this honor?" Monsieur Gagne asks, rising from his bow.

"I'm just an errand boy today, I'm afraid," he turns to me, "Maman sent me to fetch you, Gen. She has a list of potential suitors she wants you to look at."

I bob a quick curtsy toward M. Gagne. "Vale, magister."

"Te videre, domina," he says, bowing deeply in response.

I loop my arm through Derek's as we walk to our mother's study. It's a lovely May day, and the dust dances in the patches of extra bright sunlight seeping through the palace's many windows.

"Why so soon? I thought Maman and I weren't going to look at proposals until we got back."

He nudges me with a wink. "All those eligible bachelors couldn't possibly wait. You're a prized calf on the marriage market, sister of mine."

I shake my head with a smile. "If you start mooing, I swear I shall fling you off a balcony."

Derek chuckles. "In seriousness though, I think Erika wants to be involved as well, so Maman is planning on making a shortened list now and taking it when we go to Dulcemia, but she asked me to make sure it's alright with you first."

"Of course it's alright! I would likely seek Erika's advice on this matter regardless."

"I can't believe you're doing this," he says with a shake of his head.

"What, getting married? What happened to my being a prized calf?"

"That too. I can't believe we're old enough to get married, really," he scoffs, "but an arranged marriage."

"You're one to talk! You're engaged to the Princess of Italia!"

"That's different," he says with a dismissive wave of his hand, "you told me you wanted to marry for love just a few months ago!"

"No, I told you I wanted to fall in love. And plenty of people do so after having an arranged marriage."

"But what if he's already in love? What if he has a mistress he can't marry? I know you think it was a fluke with Antonio and Ro, but most men, especially kings, don't marry the women they love."

Derek moves to open the door to the study as he continues, "Besides, Luciana and I write to one another, so at least she's not a complete stranger! These men could be lying about all the information they've given Maman! What if your husband is secretly- oh, disgusting!" he exclaims, covering his eyes.

I peer over his shoulder to see what has him in such a tizzy. "What is- oh my God !"

I watch my parents spring apart like teenagers, Maman wiping her mouth quickly while Papa hastily buttons his vest back up. With so many children and the fact that my parents are about as well suited for one another as two people can be, this isn't the first time one of us has walked in on them kissing. However, it never becomes less revolting to see exactly how one's existence came to be.

"Is eight children not enough for the two of you?" Derek says, his hand still over his eyes.

"Apologies, dearest, we thought you'd be longer," Maman says sheepishly, her face flushed.

"Yes, why don't you two take another lap around the hallway? Perhaps two?" my father suggests, making me wrinkle my nose in disgust.

"Julian!" Maman exclaims, scandalized.

"You said you needed me, Maman?" I ask, eager to change the subject.

My mother looks away from Papa, fighting a smile as she turns to me. "I do, I thought we could go over possible suitors quickly. We don't have to weed anyone out just yet, but I think it'll be nice to have an idea of all our options, for now, don't you?"

I nod. "Perhaps we can start by eliminating anyone older than you."

"Excellent idea, Gen," Maman chuckles, before turning to my father and brother, "would you mind leaving us alone for a few hours?"

"Derek? How about a stroll in the gardens? The rosa arabica I planted has just started to bloom," my father says in a singsong voice.

Derek and I exchange a fond smile as we look in Papa's direction. Neither of us loves plants the way Papa does, but it's rather amusing to watch him get so excited about them.

"Perhaps you can help me with my Italian as well? Luciana recommended a book to me, and I want to read it in its original language. Translations are never quite as good," Derek says, the last part an addition addressed to no one in particular.

"I'll try, but you know my Italian is quite shoddy," Papa says before kissing my mother's cheek quickly in farewell. He then makes his way over to me and plants a gentle kiss to the top of my head.

"Good luck, Gen," he says with a wink.

"Moooo," Derek calls from over his shoulder as he leaves the study.

I roll my eyes, smiling. Our parents briefly look at one another in confusion before Papa throws his hands up with a laugh and runs to catch up to Derek in the hallway.

I watch my mother for a few moments, a small, dreamy, smile on her face as she stares at the retreating form of my father. The encounter Derek and I had the misfortune of witnessing earlier was not a standalone occurrence, but these longing stares and flirtatious smiles are much more common between my parents. It's a strange mix of endearing and revolting to behold.

"Maman?"

She startles, as though she's forgotten I'm here.

"Yes, darling? Oh, the letters!" She half runs to her desk and rummages around for the envelopes bearing the seals of royal families all over the continent.

"Are you angry that I'm doing this?" I ask suddenly.

She looks up in surprise. "Of course not, Gen! I think you're being responsible, actually," she says with a little giggle, "I just want you to know that you have a choice here."

It's the tiniest emphasis, but I know she's thinking about her brief engagement to Johannes' father. It's become a joke between them now, but even then, she avoids talking about it.

"What would you have done? If you hadn't been able to marry Papa?"

Maman smiles sadly, as though she is pitying another version of herself.

"Even if I had been forced to marry Dominick, I would've been luckier than most. He's a wonderful man. But of course, I didn't know that then. All I knew about arranged marriages came from stories my aunts told," she sighs, shaking her head sadly, "my poor Aunt Kathleen, her husband was nearly thirty years older than her, and angry all the time. It was such a relief for her when he died. And she was never the same after she came home. That's why I was so scared to marry a stranger, because I knew how bad it could be."

She shakes her head again and smiles at me. "So let's make sure we find someone good for you, yes?"

I nod.

Notes:

Latin Translations:
Vale magister = goodbye teacher
Te videra= see you tomorrow
Domina = madam/miss