.
.
It was early in the morning when Jacob woke, resolving to tell his father about his relationship with Mayumi, and to renounce his title as Second Prince. He stood, his eyes fixed on a neutral spot on the wall, as the servants around him tended to him: they tugged the crisp linen shirt down, buttoning the buttons, then overlaid it with a simple dark blue tunic.
The servant brought his cape, black velvet with leopard fur trim, but Jacob shook his head. "Just the plain one," he said. The servant bowed, then brought out a simple cape, fastening it around his neck.
In the mirror, he looked like a proper prince. Jacob's face was drawn. After today, his title would no longer exist.
xXx
.
"I wish to request with His Majesty an audience," Jacob said, kneeling. He kept his eyes fixed on the floor as the King's guard flanked him, his father sitting up atop the throne and looking down on him.
"You may have it," the King said, and held his hand out, magnanimous. Jacob rose to a standing position and ascended the steps, then knelt again at the King's feet in deference. "And how is my second son?"
"Your Majesty. It is with a heavy heart I tell you this, but I have fallen in love with your daughter, Audrey de Sevran, and I am not truly your youngest son."
"What?" the King said. Jacob's jaw tightened. He stared at the floor.
"My mother, while she loved you at her utmost, most likely had lain with another. I fear my true father is not you. Thus, I request that the title of Second Prince be revoked." He lowered his head further. "All I ask is that I take your lovely daughter, the esteemed Audrey de Sevran, First Princess and your only daughter, and take her hand in marriage. I shall take my leave from the palace and not bother you any further."
"Oh my," the King said. Jacob's eyes burned.
"I understand there are more fortuitous matches," Jacob continued, "but I have truly fallen in love with her. Please grant me this one request."
"You wish to lie with your sister?"
"She is not my sister, Your Majesty. She is a woman whom I wish to spend my life with."
"You say you are not my son. Are you saying, then, that I've been tricked?" the King said. Jacob dropped his head.
"My apologies, Your Majesty. It was my mother's doing. I have merely kept quiet all this time for my benefit. I have taken privileges which were never mine. Forgive me my indiscretions."
"You have long acted frivolously and without regard to the rest of this family. And now you are telling me you seduced the First Princess, all while knowing you are not actually a true prince?" the King leaned forward, the full weight and gravitas of the crown bearing down on him. "How preposterous," the King said. "I have never been so insulted!"
How many men do I have? Jacob's eyes stared at the ground. How many steps is it from here to the throne? My sword is sheathed and the King's guard is watching. How quickly can I get up there so I can kill him?
"I have always loved you as a son, Jacob! Just because we are not of blood, does not change this."
Jacob lifted his eyes. The King was glaring at him, but there was something else on his face. Remorse, perhaps. Something like regret.
"It is shameful the way you've always been treated," the King said. "I kept you at arms' length, and my own children refused to acknowledge your existence. I'd always felt it was my fault," the King sighed, as Jacob straightened. "Seeing you cavort with all those women, throwing yourself this way and that, acting out for my attention. But know this," the King said. "You were just a child, then. You are not to bear the punishment of the mistakes of that wicked woman."
"Your Majesty..."
"Father," the King said, and Jacob swallowed. The King smiled sadly at him. "If I am to be your father-in-law, you should address me as 'Father.'"
"My King." Jacob blinked. His vision went in and out of focus. He violently checked himself lest he start crying.
"Thank you, My King," Jacob whispered. The King nodded.
"We shall prepare the most glorious wedding," the King said, and Jacob laughed, a tear slipping, pressing a shaky fist to his eyes.
xXx
.
Mebuki stood in front of the mirror as the maids laced up her corset, holding out her arms as the whalebone paneling tightened. Slowly, they pulled up her wedding gown, the ivory fabric draping over her like a cloud. The maids slowly did the buttons, pulling the loop-eye closures, while another maid swept Mebuki's hair back, placing a gauzy veil on her head.
She looked beautiful and regal and nothing at all like how Mebuki imagined herself: in her mind's eye, she was always the gawky office worker who lusted after hot guys and gossiped with her co-workers. But now, she was a princess, stately and regal, the sharp tilt of her eyes and the solemn line of her lips staring back at her.
"You look beautiful, Princess," the maid said, fluffing the train to her dress. Mebuki blushed, then thanked her.
There was a knock at the door.
"Your Highness?" the maids sounded shocked, and Mebuki looked up. It was probably Gautier coming in to nag her to remember decorum during the wedding.
"Audrey?" Jacob stepped around the corner.
"Jacob!" Mebuki hitched up her skirts and stepped off the footstool, coming toward him. "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to see the bride before the wedding," she said, but Jacob held out a small velvet box, smiling tenderly at her.
He opened the box. A small hairpin with delicate flowers made of pearls lay nestled in the center.
"Father gave this to me at the ball, when he wanted to speak with me," Jacob said. "This used to belong to my mother."
"Oh, Jacob." Mebuki was touched. Jacob smiled again, and slipped the hairpin behind her ear.
"Beautiful," Jacob said, stepping back to look at her. Mebuki felt like she was going to burst into tears.
"I love you so much," she said, and she hugged him. Jacob chuckled and kissed her forehead.
"I'll see you at the altar, my dear."
"Heh, that's so weird, you calling me 'dear.'"
He smiled and squeezed her hand before having to leave her.
The organ played as she walked down the aisle, but she couldn't hear it. She was focused on holding the bouquet at the right angle, on not walking too fast to keep the train from snagging on the furniture. On keeping her face straight and her shoulders back, as befitting of a royal.
Jacob was standing at the altar. His eyes slid to look at her, and she noticed the slight dusting of pink in his cheeks, the small frisson of happiness as he saw her.
Mebuki bit back a smile, but she remembered Gautier's instructions: You mustn't show emotions. Royals are unflappable.
They stood facing each other. Mebuki's heart was pounding as she looked at him, this beautiful man who was to be her husband.
"Do you, Jacob de Sevran, Second Prince of the Kingdom, Protector of the Realm, the Little Moon and Sun of His Majesty, the King of Sevran, take this woman, Audrey de Sevran, as your wife, to have and hold, from this day forward, to love and to cherish, til death do you part?"
"I do," Jacob said. The priest turned to you Mebuki.
"And do you, Audrey de Sevran, First Princess of the Kingdom, Daughter of the Realm, the Little Moon and Sun of His Majesty, the King of Sevran, take this man, Jacob de Sevran, as your husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, to love and to cherish, til death do you part?"
Mebuki wanted to start bawling under her veil. She swallowed. "I do," she said.
"Then by the powers vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Blessings be upon you."
The Church was still and silent. Jacob lifted the veil and pressed a soft kiss, and Mebuki lowered her eyes, careful not to look at him lest she start crying. Her eyes slid sideways to Gautier, who widened his eyes at her.
Keep your composure.
Okay, okay, I'll fucking keep my composure, Mebuki thought crossly, before she realized she was looking out at the audience glaring. She blinked and quickly rearranged her face into a neutral expression again.
Oh, Jesus. That was the look on Gautier's face as he touched his palm to his forehead.
xXx
.
"...and then when I got to the altar, you were so handsome! I love this pin, I can't believe you'd give this to me, Gautier kept glaring at me but who cares, oh my god I'm so happy!"
After the ceremony, Mebuki had dragged Jacob to an empty room, where she threw her arms around him and promptly started emotionally word-vomiting all over him, bawling her eyes out as she hugged him. "I'm so happy!" Mebuki wailed, tears and snot ruining her makeup. "I'm just really, really happy!"
She started sobbing violently. Jacob chuckled, holding her.
"You're crying as if someone died right now, I've never seen you so hysterical."
"Shut the fuck up, Jacob! You're supposed to be my fucking husband!"
"Quite right," Jacob murmured, smiling. He rested his cheek on her hair.
(Later, the nobles whispered amongst themselves how Audrey de Sevran, after enduring the shame of her wedding ceremony, cried her eyes out in despair before returning to the banquet.
"Did you see her?" the nobles whispered. "Her face was red and her eyes were puffy. The poor princess was inconsolable after the ceremony."
"She was glaring at the altar, I saw her."
"That poor woman," another woman whispered. They watched as the princess stood stiffly next to Jacob as they received their guests' congratulations.)