Sanc Kingdom

Princess Relena followed after Chief Minister Darlian, the King's trusted aide, as he led the way to her father's study. Darlian had recently returned from Arabia, where he had been meeting with her future husband and his father. Thus, she didn't have to guess wildly as to what this meeting was about, but she was anxious nevertheless. Much as Relena would have liked to continue to put off further discussions of her impending nuptials, curiosity had gotten the better of her. And if she was going to be forced to go through with this arrangement, she at least wanted an idea of what to expect.

Part of her was tempted to just run away from it all - with Trowa at her side, of course. But for all she knew, he was already betrothed to another. And as unhappy as she was, Relena knew that her sense of duty to her kingdom would win out, time and again. She was nothing like her brother...

Relena shook her head, clearing her mind of her brother's face. Minister Darlian glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled.

"You will be simply dazzled by life in Arabia," he said. "The clothes, the food, the weather. I think you will find it quite a change, but a pleasant one. You shan't see snow any longer, that's for sure."

Relena frowned. She happened to like the snow.

Instead of responding, she allowed herself to drift further back from Minister Darlian, stretching the distance between them. Even so, she didn't need to follow him to reach her father's chambers. It was a route she could follow in her sleep.

They arrived outside of her father's study. Darlian knocked on the door, and was admitted by a young page, who ducked out of the way as Darlian and Relena passed over the threshold. Her father sat in a large chair beside the fireplace, reading a letter of some kind. He lowered the letter into his lap when they entered the study and smiled.

"Thank you for coming so soon after your return, Darlian," Marticus said, rising from the chair. He clasped hands with Darlian briefly before returning to his seat. Relena swept into a curtsy before her father. "Daughter," he said, his eyes crinkling with a smile. Darlian took the chair opposite the king, leaving Relena to stand demurely beside her father.

"I learned much during my travels, your Highness," Darlian said. "I met the young prince. I believe that the princess will be delighted with him."

"Oh?"

"He's quite the gentleman; clearly he comes from good breeding and an appropriate upbringing," Darlian said.

"His father, Zayeed, has told me the same," Marticus said proudly, beaming up at Relena. She worked to keep a frown from creasing her features.

They have to say that, she thought bitterly, even if this Prince Quatre is nothing but an ogre… A funny image came to mind, and then she had to work to keep from laughing. But such was the state of her moods these days; lately, she never knew when she was about to laugh or cry.

"The King's companions were preparing for their journey here," Darlian continued. "They should be departing Arabia within the fortnight."

"Very good!" Marticus boomed. "Not a moment too soon. And when they arrive we shall hold a feast in their honor, of course."

"Of course," Relena echoed, wryly. She could see from her father's expression that he had caught her tone.

"You are still displeased with this arrangement," he observed, his brow furrowing.

"Not at all," Relena said more brightly, although she knew her face would still give her away. Her father knew that face well, after all. He lifted a hand to pat her on the arm.

"You will grow accustomed to the idea in time, my dear girl. I did not want to marry when I was your age, either."

Relena pursed her lips. But I did want to marry. It was difficult to keep the thought to herself.

"I am sure Her Highness will find the prince most companionable," Darlian jumped in. "He has a fine reputation."

Relena wanted to ask what that meant, exactly, when her father broke in.

"Relena, you will spend the next few weeks meeting with Darlian here each day."

She looked over at the Chief Minister in puzzlement. "What for?"

"For lessons, of course." The King splayed his hands. "He is the only one in my employ who has visited Arabia, and is therefore your best hope of education on the region before you embark on your journey."

"I will tell you everything I know, your Highness," Darlian said, bobbing his torso in Relena's direction. She nodded back at him, wondering what these lessons on Arabia could possibly tell her about what living there would actually be like. She felt a fresh wave of panic. Nothing could fully prepare her for leaving the only home she had ever known, forever.

"Is there anything else you wish to tell me, Father?" Relena sighed, fearing the worst. Although she supposed her worst fears had already been confirmed; now, she was learning how to live with them.

"Well, I thought perhaps you had heard the news already," Marticus said, frowning. "I know what gossips your ladies-in-waiting can be…"

Relena's heart pounded. "What news?"

Marticus gave a curt nod to the Chief Minister. "Would you excuse us for a moment, Darlian? I should speak with my daughter alone." The Minister nodded and turned toward the door, and Relena turned worried eyes back to her father. Even though she sensed what was coming, she wasn't ready to hear it spoken. Not yet.

Once the study door had opened and shut with Darlian's departure, Marticus cleared his throat.

"I have spoken with Duke Barton…"

Relena steeled herself. "Yes?"

"It turns out he and the Duchess had a maiden in mind to wed their son." Relena closed her eyes and took in a sharp breath.

"Yes. So I have heard." She squeezed her eyes to keep the tears at bay before reopening them, glancing down at her father. Concern was written across his features, joining the worry lines already etched into his weathered face.

"Then you know." Marticus's shoulders sagged slightly. "I am truly sorry, Relena, that I could not approve your betrothal. But I had already given Zayeed my word. I could not risk the insult by going back on it. And you must understand, a princess simply must marry a prince, whenever possible. And as my only daughter…" Marticus took a step forward. "I had to do my best to secure your future, and that of our kingdom's."

Relena bit her lip but nodded. "I understand, Father. The fate of Sanc and my own are one in the same." She tried not to sound bitter as she spoke the truth of her reality out loud. It made her feel like more of a commodity than a person; perhaps, in the end, that was all a royal was. A figurehead, or in some cases, an ornament.

"You do?" Marticus swung blue eyes up to meet Relena's, the same sky-blue as her own. She nodded again, more firmly.

Relena swallowed around a hard lump in her throat. "Yes. I trust that you only want what's best for me. Even if we don't always agree."

Slowly, a smile crept across her father's weary face, and she was glad to see it. So many horrors over the past several years had long kept his smiles at bay.

"You are an angel, my dearest." Marticus reached for Relena's hand and planted a kiss. "Your mother would be so proud."

At that, Relena's eyes welled, but this time she allowed the tears to fall freely. A girl was allowed to cry for her mother, after all. Her father's eyes had also gone moist. Marticus stood and pulled his daughter into a warm embrace.

"I shall miss you, darling girl," he said, his voice cracking as he hugged her tightly. "How I wanted you to stay here and learn my place. I want you to know that," he added more firmly, pulling back from her. His gaze was hard and serious. "You would have made Sanc a fine ruler; I have no doubt."

"Then why?" Relena reached up to scrub at her tears, breaking her hardfought composure. "Why couldn't you just let me stay, and learn my place as your heir? Even if Trowa were already promised, could I not have found another consort? Or even remained unmarried? Why, Father?! Why must I go to Arabia?!"

Finally the fury Relena had tried to keep buried rose to the surface, but her father appeared to take it in stride. Marticus gave Relena's shoulders a squeeze before dropping his hands to his sides, and sinking back down into his chair.

"You will still be our Queen, only now you will also be Queen of Arabia, increasing our power and influence," he said gently but firmly. "That is why you and Prince Quatre were betrothed in the eyes of the kingdoms for many years, long before Milliardo… long before your brother disappeared." He sighed. "My hands are tied."

"But who will rule the Sanc Kingdom once you're gone, if I'm off in another country?" Relena asked incredulously. Much as she hated bringing up her father's eventual death, she had to know what the protocol would be, now that their plans had been altered. Marticus sighed, stood and began to pace.

"You could rule Sanc from Arabia, with a regent in place, if need be," he said. "But that arrangement is far from ideal." The king stopped his pacing and gave Relena a sidelong glance. "Thus, I have my best scouts looking for your brother, to bring him home. It matters not what has been said or done. He will have to be the king after I die."

Relena had to fight back the urge to scream at her father, or collapse into tears. She should have known if she were married off, her disgraced brother would be reinstated as the Sanc Kingdom's heir. She imagined him as he was when he disappeared, selfish and power-hungry. The country would be in his hands?

"And if Milliardo should never come back?" she spat.

"I trust that he will," Marticus said quietly. "He has to."

"Ever the prodigal, Milliardo," Relena said more bitterly. Just speaking her brother's name left her tongue searing. She wished she could spit on the floor.

"Relena," her father said, more sharply than he usually spoke. "If and when he does return, he will be your ally. Our kingdoms will soon be united. You - and I - must give him this chance to redeem himself."

Relena began to stamp one of her feet on the floor. Her father glanced down warily. She forced herself to go still before he could rebuke her for her impertinence.

"Well," she said finally. "I suppose it is lucky, then, that I will not be here when he arrives." She stormed towards the door, turned, dipped into a curtsy, then whirled out of the room, slamming the door behind her as she left.

Happy New Year, squad! Thank you for all of your support in 2018. We can't wait to see what 2019 brings!

- RGS