"Once again, let us give a round of applause for the clans that participated in the games to win the hand of the fair Princess! Clan Fennellsby! Clan Abercromby! Clan Ainsley! Anddddd…..Clan Dunbroch!" The guard bellowed. "It has come to the time to make decisions. One lucky lad from ONE of the clans will marry the fair princess and become the next King!"
Elinor sighed almost inaudibly and slumped forward. She never understood the fuss that her mother made over this whole matter: why couldn't she be free to choose who she would marry, without all the blood and gore of the "games" to prove one nervous young man as a worthy husband?
Now, the doors burst open and a loud fanfare, played on rusty bagpipes, welcomed the last clan, Clan Dunbroch. Elinor jerked back into reality as her mother, Queen Clothilde, gave her a disapproving nudge. She sat primly and folded her hands in her lap. Elinor snuck a quick look at her father, King Duncan, and he appeared as bored with the proceedings as she was. He was imitating the gestures of the guard still rambling about the marriage proceedings and the merits of each of the clans. Queen Clothilde gave her husband a pointed look and he stopped, though not before giving Elinor a cheeky wink. Elinor swallowed the urge to laugh and gazed demurely at the new lad, Fergus, as he stood in front of the royal family.
"Welcome to our court," Queen Clothilde replied smoothly, casting a critical eye that missed nothing, past Fergus' unkempt hair to the mud that caked over his boots. The fiery-haired lad flushed from the close scrutiny and dropped his eyes to the stone floors. Elinor felt a dart of pity enter her heart as she fixed her steady gaze on the shy new lad. Her mother, the regal Queen Clothilde, was not unintimidating. Her presence often overpowered that of her husband's, King Duncan. Nevertheless, King Duncan loved his wife and allowed her to advise and co-rule with him.
"Th-thank ye, my lady queen," Fergus mumbled, blushing as he met Elinor's eyes. He started as his father, Adair, jabbed him in the back, prompting him to be a little more eloquent. "I—er…ye…"
"It is a pleasure to be here, yer Majesties," Adair recovered for his bumbling, flustered son. "Thank ye for honoring us."
"We assure you the pleasure is all ours," King Duncan rumbled, smiling good-naturedly at Adair and Fergus. "Please, allow me to introduce my queen, Clothilde, my son, Eoin, and my daughter, Princess Elinor…yer future bride."
Elinor offered a small smile to Fergus and he returned it, hesitantly. His wide blue eyes finally met her warm brown ones and, for the first time, he properly recognized how pretty she was. During the games, he had certainly noticed her slight form, sitting under the canopy with her parents, but now he really had a good look at her. Her skin was as pale as cream, and her rosy cheeks reminded him of the color of sunset over the Fire Falls. Her lips were thin, but her lower lip had an appealing pout that made Fergus almost want to kiss her. Finally, her eyes, which Fergus forced himself to look into now (to prevent further embarrassment from staring too long and too low...). Her eyes were doe-like but had a spark of intelligence in them. She curled her lips into an amused smile as she again inclined her head. Fergus bowed clumsily and backed away.
"The wedding between the Princess Elinor and one of her suitors will take place in a fortnight. And now…the moment we have all been waiting for. The Princess will now make her decision."
Queen Clothilde peered expectantly in Elinor's direction, and Elinor swallowed thickly. What? I am supposed to decide…now?
The silence in the great room was palpable, and Elinor felt beads of sweat roll down her tightly corseted waist. Her chest suddenly felt tight and, with immense difficulty, she drew in a shaky breath. King Duncan was looking at his daughter, sensing her distress but helpless to do much for her. Queen Clothilde was also gazing imperiously at her daughter, barely masking her annoyance that Elinor was not prepared with some speech. Elinor's younger brother, Eoin, gave his sister a wink behind their parents' back and somehow, Elinor drew courage from that small gesture.
Standing up as gracefully as she can, Elinor faced the waiting lords and their sons.
"My lords," she said, in a clear and carrying voice. "It has been a very difficult decision, but I choose…"
Elinor heard the tiny intake of breath from her mother.
"I choose…"
Artair of Fennellsby was an enormous buffoon, and their first meeting constituted of him smacking his lips on her hand in a most dismaying manner. Elinor shuddered slightly from the repulsive memory. As she scanned the expectant crowd in front of her, she glimpsed Artair from the corner of eye, grinning lewdly at her.
Next to be presented was Ciaran of Abercromby. He was a sweet lad, albeit a bit mentally slow. Elinor could not deny that she regarded him more favorably compared to the other suitors. But he reminded Elinor too much of her younger brother Eoin. Elinor cared for him, as an elder sister and friend, but not romantically at all.
Just before the arrival of Clan Dunbroch, there had been another suitor, Domhnall of Ainsley, Elinor recalled. But he was a wild young man, and his reputation was appalling. He was very popular with the village maidens, and left many with broken hearts. He saw Elinor as purely another girl who would marvel at his good looks and charm. But Elinor was far from being like one of those gullible girls.
Elinor glanced at each of the suitors in turn. Artair smiled smugly and flexed his arm in her direction. He slowly inched forward, though his action went unnoticed by everyone except her. Ciaran was watching Eoin play with swords, looking very much as though he would like to join the young prince. Domhnall had the attention of all the maids in the castle, so Elinor spared him hers. Lastly, Elinor's eyes landed on Fergus. He was looking at her intently, but in his eyes, there was hope and…was it…love?
"I choose Fergus of Clan Dunbroch."
Over the raucous cheering, Elinor breathed a sigh of relief and she found Fergus gazing at her happily. He winked at her and bowed once more, elaborately. As he swept down, however, he accidentally bumped into Artair, sending the latter careening into Domhnall. The resulting tussle between the two rejected suitors only added to the deafening cheers and yells.
Elinor's eyes sparkled and she quickly muffled her giggles with a hand to her mouth. Fergus looked abashed, but grinned shyly at Elinor.
"Thank ye fer choosing me, Princess," Fergus finally said, coming closer to Elinor.
"Please call me Elinor, my lord." Elinor corrected, blushing slightly.
"I'm Fergus, no need for the formalities, Princess," Fergus replied.
The young couple shared a laugh and Elinor nestled closer into Fergus' side.
"All right, Fergus, it is, then."
A/N: My deepest and most heartfelt apologies for the long wait. But I hope the wait was worth it for this chapter. I was always interested in how the young Princess Elinor would be like...and this is what I came up with. Please review! Until next time, my dear readers. xoxo