Story
"My son," His father started, placing his hands upon his broad shoulders as he stood behind him. He met Ivan's gaze through the reflection of the mirror, and brought a smile to his dry lips. Ivan, however, offered no such in return, instead sporting a small frown. He wanted to please is father and bring honor to his kingdom and family, but this was not what he had in mind.
"Come, Vanya, it won't be nearly as bad as you think it will. Just look at your mother and I - we turned out happily, didn't we?"
They did, he thought, but not until after they were wed. Ivan instead looked away from the mirror, sighing softly. It was his father's turn to frown. He removed his hands from his son's shoulders and moved to the table beside them, picking up the crown from its cushion, "You are doing our kingdom a great favor, Vanya. The people rejoyce in knowing that their Prince will be wed to another royal. Our kingdom will prosper with these relations, and when you take the throne, I'm sure you, and your Queen, will do well."
Ivan should have been comforted by those words, but he wasn't. Any other Prince would take bride in having to wed a royal from a large and wealthy kingdom, but Ivan, however, wasn't. He wanted to marry someone he loved, someone he truly cared for, not just someone whom his parents chose. What is they didn't get along, what if they didn't like eachother?
His father placed the crown on his head and, with another smile (this one still not returned), patted his back. "Come, we should not keep them waiting any longer." With another moments pause, they left the room.
. . . . .
"But Momma, what if he's ugly?"
"He isn't ugly, Prince Ivan is said to be rather handsome."
"But..But what if we don't get along?"
"You will get along just fine, Alfred. Stop worring."
The young Prince Alfred was pacing quickly in the throne room, his hands running through his hair in nervousness. His mother sat upon her throne, calmly soothing out the wrinkles and creases in her dress. His father sat tall beside her, talking to the knight who stood at his side. Alfred paid them little mind and glanced out the window, his heart racing in his chest. He was scared, to say the least, horribly nervous. Since the moment he'd been told of his engagement to a Prince of a far away land, Alfred had been quite restless. He'd heard of marriages between royals that didn't turn out too well - his elder brother, for instance. Arthur had been married for 4 years now, and he still loated Francis with all his being. Alfred didn't want that, he prayed nearly every night that he'd be able to fall in love with him: this Prince Ivan.
He wondered if Ivan would like him, if he would mind his loudness and energy. What if he was the kind to prefer the quiet? What if he disliked sweets at midnight, or saddle - less horse rides through the hot summer days? Could Alfred give up those little things, could he withdraw on his pleasures- would he have to?
But soon, there was no more time to think, the doors of the throne room had opened- and quick as a rush of a lapping wave, the Princes' worries went away.
Golden hair, violet eyes, soft lips, pale skin, light freckles, broad shoulders- how lovely it was, that first moment of sight. No sight was more beautiful then Prince Alfred in Ivan's eyes, and Prince Ivan was more handsome then any other in Alfred's.
Perhaps this was what the story books meant when they said love at first sight, for when they calmly stepped forward, Ivan extending his hand and Alfred taking it, they began to believe in a happily ever after.
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