Her parents have been having balls all for the last week, every suitor she's ever met in attendance.
They have been patient with her, not choosing for her- They refuse to choose for her- They say they want her to marry for love.
The only problem is, she does not love any of her suitors. She loves Graham, her protector, the wilding huntsman she befriended when they were children.
"We understand, dearest," her mother nods as she explains, "But- You must tell the suitors that you have chosen not to marry any of them. Tonight. We must not string them along farther."
...
She stands in front of the crowd of suitors, more nervous than she's ever been. She notices something unhappy in Graham's eyes and has to wonder if that means she should have hope he feels for her.
She takes a deep breath.
"My parents have informed me that- That I must announce which of you I intend to marry. Tonight. And the- The answer is- None of you. I cannot- I cannot betray my heart. I'm sorry."
The suitors looked shocked, some angry, and she flees, fearing the backlash of her announcement, heading to the garden, taking the winding path to the roses and sinking to the ground near her favorite, a bush with orange-pink flowers that she had helped to breed when her parents thought gardening as a hobby might distract her from the urge to roam through the woods. Her dress will probably be a mess, but she doesn't care.
She runs her fingers across the petals of one of the blooms. What if he doesn't love her back? What if she's been a fool?
A throat clears, and when she sees that it's Graham, she can't help but smile.
"Graham," she pushes herself off of the ground and hugs him, holding her beloved protector close to her, while she knows she can because he has not yet rejected her, "You came."
"Of course I did, your highness," the formality stings, but there is odd confusion in his voice, and she pulls back.
"Is- Is everything alright, Emma?" his concern is obvious, she sees his eyes searching her for something.
"I- I've talked it over with mother and father. And I was hoping- Graham, I love you. I've always loved you. So I was hoping- Graham- Will you be my husband?" She is laying her heart on the line for him, risking everything.
He looks stunned, blinking at her owlishly, and she begins to worry, maybe she should have worked up to this, maybe-
"You- You would have me?" he asks, and it is her turn to be stunned. How could he doubt that she loves him?
"Always, if you would have me," she assures, biting her lip in nervous habit. Truly, it is his feelings that matter here; she will not force him to marry her if he does not want her - but she also will not marry another. Her heart belongs to him - and always will.
Callused fingers brush across her cheek softly, comfortingly, his thumb pulling the worried lower lip from between her teeth.
"I will," he tells her, then presses his lips to hers gently. She sighs, happily melting into the chaste kiss.
"I love you, Emma," he pulls back far too soon, but his words make her heart flutter, "And I will gladly stand by your side. Always."