Princess Kate arrived the day before the wedding. The king and queen were both vastly relieved. Edward was taking it rather… quietly. He had actually refused to come down to meet his bride and instead had kept to his rooms. No one but John had spoken to him in days.
Even the Duke of Montague, who, under any other circumstances, would have been ecstatic over the thought of such a grand occasion as a royal wedding, felt the dreadful strain of it all. He worried for his cousin and he worried for his sister. He even worried for his future brother-in-law who had seemed only a few degrees less miserable than Edward lately.
The betrothed princess had been presented before her future parents-in-law and she curtseyed gracefully, murmuring the proper and polite greetings. But her face was white, her lips set in a straight line. She did not seem any less miserable than anyone else involved. In fact, once she was shown to her chambers, she locked the door and cried alone. It would be a prestigious match, her parents had told her. A great alliance. She was doing a wonderful thing for their little country. But… she had never even seen the prince except for the ball. And he had not danced with her. She was suffering under an acute attack of love-at-first-sight, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with Prince Edward. Indeed, even the object of her affections hadn't the slightest clue.
It had happened the night of the ball. Always a rather shy, plain little thing, she had kept to herself, dancing only a few dances, and none with the prince. She knew that it was supposed to be an exciting, thrilling occasion, but she hardly felt excited and thrilled. That is, until she saw him. And her heart stopped beating. She didn't have any idea who he was. She had never even seen him before. But there was something about him… she fell fast and hard. And to this day regretted that she hadn't made advances of some kind, so that he at least had danced with her. But he had not even seen her at all. She stayed there, in her little corner, watching him as he whirled enthusiastically about the room, always dancing, always laughing, always seeming to be saying something amusing. My, how grand he had looked, in a heavily-embroidered salmon-colored coat of velvet and such high heels…
Was it even possible to fall in love with someone she didn't know and had never even spoken to? Apparently so, for this dreadful ache in her heart could only have been caused by love. She dreaded the thought of marrying the prince. If only… if only… but why waste time on if only's? By tomorrow she would be a married woman and she would have to put the thought of the stranger from the ball far, far behind her.