They practiced allemandes and waltzing after she was fully confidant in the gavotte. They spun and spun, up and down endlessly for an hour while he was teaching her the waltz. While they were spinning, they failed to see a servant enter the ballroom.
The servant coughed loudly to make themselves known. Jaythen let go of Avalyn, suddenly startled and she twirled off by herself from the momentum with her arms out before stopping. He noted she had the hint of smile on her lips. The servant bowed appropriately.
Jaythen nodded, he was out of breath from moving and humming tunes, "What is your business here?"
"Milady has sent me to inform you that you are late to the noon meal."
Jaythen's stomach gave him its own warning by rumbling. He nodded again, "We will be there shortly."
"Yes, my Lord," he bowed and left.
"Are you hungry?"
"Not so much," Avalyn had started practicing the footwork for the allemande but with an invisible partner.
"Still, would you join me?"
She eventually ended her dance, "Why? Your mother only gives me cold looks throughout the entirety of meals."
He wanted to ignore them, but it didn't make them less true and poor Avalyn had to endure them all the while she sat there. He shook his head and frowned, "If you do not wish to join me, you needn't to. I do ask that you meet me here later so we may conclude the dances steps that I have taught you."
"I will practice while you eat," she nodded, starting up her dance again. He turned around and smiled as he left the ballroom—she was very amusing. He heard her add, "After all, I've found dancing to be of quite fun."
His smile only broadened.
---
"Have you forgotten that you must eat?" His mother's lips were pursed; apparently unhappy he had just entered the dining hall when the meal had been served nearly a half-hour before.
"I was preoccupied."
"With Lady Avalyn no doubt," Halden spoke from his seat—putting an insulting tone of emphasis on her title.
"Pray tell what were you doing that was so important you should miss the noon meal?"
He cleared his throat after taking a swig of water, "She wanted to dance, and I—being her future husband—indulged her. After all, she is from Prition, you know how they like to dance."
"Still, I find her quite odd," His mother nodded her head, considering his lie. "Is she not joining us?"
"She wasn't hungry," Jaythen replied.
"She never seems to eat her food. You must tell her to start eating, otherwise she'll waste away before she can be fitted for a wedding gown."
"Wedding gown?"
"Yes. She must wear a wedding gown to the wedding. You are getting married or have you forgotten?" his mother was smirking, somehow seeming satisfied at his lack of commitment.
"No, I know. Though wedding date hasn't been set yet—" he shook his head, and then his eyes widened in panic at a sudden thought and he sat forward, "Has it?"
His mother sniffed, "Your father has decided it is to take place a week from tomorrow. That way, you'll have a week in between the engagement celebration and the nuptials. Your father—" her tone had started out with indifference but turned emotional "Your father hasn't much longer and he wishes to see you marry before he is taken into the arms of Heaven."
Jaythen's own appetite was next to nothing after hearing that his wedding would be so soon. His father was not appeased any longer, and now desperate to make sure Jaythen was wed. He hated to hope for a swift death upon his father, but that was what he needed. The Countess had overcome her temporary despair at the news of the Count, and was studying her son very closely for any hints that he was displeased at the news.
Jaythen knew his mother's tricks and only smiled, "Fabulous, I cannot wait to call Avalyn my wife."
His smile only became true when he saw the despair his mother's face betrayed. He wondered why his mother disapproved of Avalyn so.
"Mother, you dislike my bride."
His mother looked taken aback, like he was saying nonsense, "I never said such a thing!"
"Madam, you have been nothing but cold, uninviting, and insulting to her, which is far from any sort of fondness. I'm growing weary of this attitude and demand you show her the respect that is due to her."
His mother's mouth was agape; shocked that Jaythen had given her an order. She closed it and sucked in a breath, "Yes, my Lord."
Halden might have rolled his eyes but Jaythen wasn't sure, for he was just out of his line of sight. Halden was untrustworthy, and Jaythen feared his cousin would tell the truth about Avalyn soon.
---
He excused himself from the table after that. He tired of his mother and cousin. His mother disliked Avalyn for reasons unknown and his cousin disliked the fact that she was a commoner. He made his way back to the ballroom where he found his pretend bride swinging herself around in an allemande.
He watched her from the threshold, as she hadn't noticed him yet, or if she did, it didn't daunt her. She was concentrated, and maneuvered still as if an invisible man were holding her, with her arms encircled around—her hips swiftly moving from side to side.
There was a ball that next night in honor of a visiting royal—the night after his sweet Nicolette did not appear for their meeting in the gardens. He thought of many reasons to why she had failed to meet up. She was ill. She let time slip away. Her guards caught her. She was—well it didn't matter because the fact was that Jaythen had been left standing there for two hours among the wilting flowers, which only furthered his own wilting.
He dressed in his best outfit for the ball and hoped the Princess would be in attendance. The ballroom at the palace was much more grand and large than the one at home. The whole of the King's court was in attendance. Some bold ladies of court asked Jaythen if he would dance with them but he politely declined and searched for any flash of auburn hair.
Finally, after what seemed for an eternity of loneliness he spotted her on the dance floor. A man with slicked, black hair was dancing with her and she politely smiled all the while.
Had she forgotten about him?
He retreated to the lines of viewers and kept his eye on her. When it was time for the feast, Nicolette and her partner were seated at the front of the table near the King.
The King was a man of no nonsense, and because of that his Realm stayed in order and it kept the people happy. He was in a pleasant mood that evening and before his subjects could break a piece of bread, he tapped a spoon against the cup of his goblet to make a toast. Jaythen gripped the stem of his glass, his focus on the King's daughter instead of on the King himself.
"Esteemed subjects of my court, this is a happy night. I would like to announce the engagement of my daughter, Nicolette, to the Prince of the Evening Isles."
The raven-haired man held up her hand and everyone saw the ring on her finger, gathered with diamonds upon smaller diamonds. Jaythen took a big swig of the liquid in his own goblet, his knuckles bent so hard they turned white. Cheers and clapping could be heard from all across the room—except from the one young man who had suddenly slumped into his seat, feeling as though his heart had been destroyed. He closed his eyes and tried to collect his thoughts but the cheering made him angry, and his thoughts were sent scattering. They were all happy while he was anything but. When he opened his eyes, the Prince was kissing her hand and then they sat to continue their feast. Jaythen picked at the stuffed pheasant in front of him, but it was too much to be in the same room with her. He stood up abruptly, bowing and apologizing to anyone who had noticed—"You must excuse me, I feel quite ill."
He had five more months to stay there, and in those five months he did not see her again—and they were the longest and loneliest five months of his entire life. His heart still stung when he thought of her so he swore to put her out of his mind forever and he swore never again to fall so fast or so hard for a maiden.
"Do you think it will suffice?" Avalyn broke into his thoughts—thoughts that had ambushed him again upon seeing her dance.
"Dance with a real person and I shall tell you," he approached her with a hasty bow.
She replied with a swift curtsy. He took hold of one of her hands and let his other set around her waist. They were off in an allemande, and he was quite impressed with her knack at learning and retaining the dance steps. They rounded the inside portion of the ballroom. Their movement caused an artificial wind to tug at loose pieces of her hair so that they streamed around her shoulders. Her eyes were closed—concentrated. He slowed their dance until it was ended.
Her eyes opened again, "Well?"
"Very good."
She grinned, seeming satisfied with herself. "I like dancing."
"I'm glad it is so," he found himself grinning as well, "Have you not ever danced before?"
"Not to real music and not like this," she spun on her heel. She seemed so lighthearted at the moment he couldn't bear to inform her that they were planned to wed in a little more than a week. Then again, she would enjoy the life of court if she liked dancing. If he were serious about marrying her, he would have liked many more months to spend with her to learn about her so at least he wouldn't be in danger feeling spite towards her for their forced wedlock. In fact, whether she was to marry him or not, he would have liked to know her better. He found the girl with green eyes to be exceedingly pleasant when her guard was down.
"The maids tell me that your fiancée leaves her room late at night and doesn't reappear until early the next morning."
"Mother, are you sure they're trying not to initiate gossip? Are you sure you're not making this up because you don't favor Lady Avalyn?"
His mother didn't say a word more about it, seeing her son was displeased at her behavior. "Where is she anyway?"
"I suppose she is sleeping—"
"What a lazy little lug!"
"Or avoiding you," He shot his mother a very irate look, this time it shut her up for good.
It was breakfast and Jaythen was trying to enjoy the bacon, and honey drizzled cakes on his plate. He rubbed his eyes tiredly for he had not gotten the best sleep. His thoughts were more and more focused on the Princess Nicolette. His wedding loomed closer and closer—and it was not a wedding where she was the bride. It was impossible to eliminate her current engagement to that prince, but yet his thoughts were rampant with many idle rescue feats where he and Nicolette escaped together or were banished to other lands and lived happily ever after.
He finished his meal quickly and left to get on with more important matters. He made his way to his room, fell onto his mattress, and pulled out a wooden box from underneath his bed. Thankfully his servants hadn't been curious enough to open it when had had brought it back from the Imperial City. Inside were folded pieces of parchment, stacked and tied with a red ribbon. He had put them out of his mind, but since he could hardly sleep he thought reading them would help.
My Dearest Lord,
Please meet me this evening at the Western Tower near dusk. I must tell you something very important.
Your Loving Princess,
Nicolette
The night at the Western Tower was one Jaythen had held high in his heart. He closed his eyes, searching for the memory he had meant to banish forever.
"What is so important then?" Jaythen had just ascended the last of the winding stairs and saw her leaning against the ledge. It was open and the air was warmer. They had been meeting for four months, almost every night.
She whirled around, with a startled stare. He was suddenly concerned and went to her, embraced her.
"I have been thinking," she said, but her mouth was buried into his clothes and it was mumbled.
He took her chin and pulled her head off of his attire so he could hear words clearer. She did not act like a princess when she was around him—she was herself—Nicolette.
"Thinking of what?"
She removed herself, looking as though she was debating on actually telling him—which was frustrating because he had just climbed all of those stairs to meet her and hear what she had to tell him.
"I've fallen in love with you," she said so suddenly, so assuredly he momentarily balked. She was the princess and she was in love with him—it felt unreal. Looking at her, he felt the same way and perhaps even more about her. She waited for his response anxiously.
He smiled broadly and lifted her up, all the while kissing her—feeling the happiest since he could recall. She laughed and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. He set her down but not without an assault of kisses down her neck. She bit her lip as she watched him, suddenly coy—which was so very uncharacteristic of her.
"What?" he noticed and stopped his onslaught of fevered adoration.
"I want to go to sleep with you tonight."
His whole body stiffened, from enticement, and intense trepidation. He shook his head "You know that is impossible."
Not only was the Princess just to disappear for the night a seemingly impossible task but to make love to her and hope that they weren't caught or that her future husband—whomever they were—noticed, was just as impossible.
"I've convinced my maid to sleep in my place, and have secured her silence of my plan with gold."
"We cannot—" he tried to convince her, and himself.
She pressed further into him, convincing his stiffened body otherwise, "Please?"
He closed his eyes to collect his wild thoughts but he felt her lips brush against his, sending his heart beating harder and they flew open to see her standing on her toes once again, sealing his decision with a kiss.
"Yes."
He let out a sigh as he lay on his stomach—knowing that by thinking of that memory, he would be depressed beyond all reason. No one from Wendbury even knew of his relations with the Princess so there was no one that would know of his heartbreak, and therefore no one could console him.
He could remember tasting her on his lips and the smell of her in his sheets. He rolled over and covered his face with the parchment, letting it set there as his arms dropped languidly above his head and dangled over the edge of the mattress. Finally, he slept soundly.
---
He awoke awhile later on his own and brushed the parchment off of his face, soaked with the scent of Nicolette—a mix of gardenias and apple spice. He yawned and was in the middle of stretching when someone knocked on his door.
He opened it and saw a servant bowing, "There is a delivery from the dressmaker, Master Devlin, waiting for you in the main hall."
Jaythen nodded, remembering the appointment slightly. He groggily followed after the servant and saw Devlin's apprentice standing and holding a wrapped package.
"Thank you, give your master my gratitude."
The apprentice bowed in obedience before leaving. Jaythen carried the dress on his non-injured shoulder since it was surprisingly heavy. He rapped his knuckles against the door to Avalyn's chambers.
"She is in the ballroom, my Lord," one of the posted servants spoke up. He was puzzled by the news and handed the package to the servant, instructing them to open it and lay it out on her bed for her to wear later.
He hastily made his way to the ballroom, wondering if she had been dancing all afternoon. He stopped in the threshold so suddenly at the sight of his cousin dancing with her.
Her expression was one of stone as his cousin turned her about.
"Don't wear yourselves out, there is much more dancing to be had this evening."
Halden turned upon hearing his cousin and halted the dance. "I was just acquainting myself better with the future Countess."
He did not bow to Avalyn as he left her standing alone. He spoke with mockery as he brushed past Jaythen, "She dances well for being a nothing."
When he was fully away from them, Jaythen turned to Avalyn with questioning. She lifted her hands to grasp her arms, "Your cousin has a very hard grip."
"Did he hurt you?"
She shook her head, "He informed be that I didn't deserve to be here. He knows of your charade."
It was his turn to shake his head, "Partially. He still thinks that we're getting married and that's why he doesn't tell my parents."
A silence settled upon them again. He was very aware that he had promised they wouldn't be married in the end, and couldn't bear the green stare directed at him. His father was hurrying things too far along.
"So is this where you've been all day—dancing?"
"I have."
"We missed you at breakfast."
"We missed you at the noon meal."
He then realized why he was so hungry, but discarded the thought of food since there would be plenty later at the engagement celebration. She didn't seem pleased and regarded him with not a bit of the lightness he had seen the day before.
He sighed, "They surely told you."
"Yes, and it would explain why I have an appointment to be fitted for a wedding gown tomorrow afternoon," her voice rose in pitch, telling of her distress. "How long will we be playing pretend? I can't last at this for much longer."
"I apologize, it will only be until the Count—"
"What if he recovers? I can't marry you. I won't."
"It won't come to that."
"How can you be so sure?"
He gave an honest shrug, "He is very sick, I doubt he will last another week."
She bit her lip and frowned. Her stare wandered about the walls of the room, taking in the décor and design.
"I bought you a gift."
She looked upon him suddenly, surprised "What?"
"I left it in your room. You'll know what to do with it." He bowed, "I shall take my leave but don't go about dancing the rest of the afternoon because the servants are bound to enter and do last minute preparations for tonight." He bowed to her, "Until we meet again."
He wandered away from the ballroom with his thoughts now mulling about her words. What if he does pull through? She won't marry me and then I will be caught in my lies. If he doesn't pull through, then we won't be married, but she will have to leave otherwise people will wonder why I told everyone we were engaged.
It seemed to him, that either way, the outcome was undesired.
A/N: Just so anyone knows, there wasn't A DB section in the forums so I made one :D