::Chapter 3: Unwanted Betrothal::

I stopped dead in my tracks. Did I just hear. . . what I thought I heard??

"Your highness, have you forgotten about the betrothal?" said the same voice.

I spun around and eyed the owner of the voice. . . the duke of Ayortha.

"What?" was the only thing that escaped my mouth, which was hanging wide open in surprise and confusion.

I quickly turned my gaze towards Mother.

She eyes me with wide eyes. "Amena, dear, I-"

"You never told me anything about a betrothal!" I mouthed, so only Mother could understand what I was trying to say.

"Your highness," the duke said, putting a hand on his shoulder. He smiled a huge phony smile. "Princess Amena, I am honored to be the first to announce that. . ." he still smiled as he turned to the rest of the people, projecting his voice so the whole ball could hear his announcement. ". . .when you reach the age of sixteen, you are to be married to, my son, also known as the future duke of Ayortha, Nathaniel!"

The whole crowd cheered and burst into applause.

He then faced me and said in a softer voice, "You and Nathaniel have been the best of friends since you were born!"

My breath quickened. What did he just say?! Betrothal and. . . friends?! Nate and I were definitely NOT friends! We used to 'play' together when we were younger, about when I was four or five. But today was the first time I had seen him in almost ten years!

I could feel tears burning my eyes. I stared at the duke angrily, although he was facing the other way. I turned to Mother, and glared.

"Dear. . ." she called out, heading towards me.

I shoved the duke's hand off of my shoulder. "No. . . I wont!" I cried out, bursting into tears. Before anyone could stop me, I ran out of the room.

I ran into the corridor, then out the back entrance, to the garden. It was dark, and the only source of light was the shining moon and the sprinkle of stars in the sky.

I sobbed, as slowed down, walking down the bricked path.

"I'm not too wild about this either, you know," said a familiar voice from ahead of me.

Startled, I looked up.

I peered into the darkness. I saw an outline of a figure, and then. . .

"Leave me alone, Nate. You don't have to worry about anything. I'd rather die than having to live my life with a husband with deadly breath!"

He glared at me. " That was a very thrilling event for me either. Keep quiet. I'm not the prissy one being a crybaby."

I returned his glare.

"You know, I thought maybe you'd be different. We used to get along when we were younger. . . but today when Father made me ask you to dance. . ."

"That was then. This is now. And we are NOT friends, and we never will be, as long as I'm alive." I crossed my arms over my chest.

Suddenly we heard footsteps.

"Oh! Wonderful! I see you too are spending some time alone already!" said the familiar voice of the duke. When he reached us, he swept into a bow. "Your highness," he greeted.

Nate flashed a fake smile. That was another thing he and his Father had in common. "Oh, yes, Father. We were just. . . taking a few minutes to. . . you know. . . bond."

I stood there, with a frown on my face.

The duke smiled, or at least pretended to. "Great, great! I see that we made a good choice then! I was afraid you two might have drifted too far apart! Do you not agree?"

I rolled my eyes, doubting that either of them could see me. I tried to change the subject, not wanting to offend the duke. "I better get going now, I'm feeling a little. . ." Queasy. Tired. I sighed. I couldn't say either. It would be a lie, but I tried anyway.

"A little. . . q- que-" The world around me started to blur.

". . .queas-" The scenery around me started to spin around slowly, getting me dizzier by the second.

I put a hand to my forehead.

"Your highness! Are you alright?" cried the duke, who was quite alarmed at my stance.

"I want to go," I said simply.

The duke frowned. "Yes, yes. Maybe you should go check with the palace doctor, too, Princess."

I smiled. "Thank you," I said, sweeping into a graceful curtsey.

I started to half run/half walk away, carrying my skirt and slapping at the frill.

Betrothal! Boy, Mother sure does have a lot of explaining to do!

And I have a lot of convincing. . .

A/N: Review!