Misguided Attraction

The carriage slowed, its wheels crunching against the gravel road. Althea straightened in her seat, her gloved hands smoothing over the folds of her gown. She peeked through her veil once more, her breath catching in her throat.

The castle loomed ahead, grander than anything she had imagined. Its golden stone gleamed in the fading sunlight, while intricate carvings adorned its soaring towers. Flags bearing the royal crest fluttered in the wind, and the stained-glass windows seemed to cast multicolored whispers across the courtyard.

It was a place befitting a queen, a life she could have had. A bitter smile tugged at her lips as the memory resurfaced—the life she had chosen to leave behind for Caspian. And for what? Betrayal and death.

Caspian opened the door, bowing low, his gloved hand extended to assist her down. She hesitated before placing her hand in his. She knew that look in his eyes. He was confused, and it was definitely as to why she was letting the marriage take place without any protest.

"Allow me, my lady," he said smoothly, his fingers brushing against hers with a familiarity that made her skin crawl.

As she stepped down, she felt his thumb move in small circles over her gloved hand, a gesture so bold it was almost mocking. As soon as her feet touched the cobblestones, she pressed her heel into his boot.

He sucked in a sharp breath but masked his grimace with a polite bow. "Careful, my lady."

"Of course," she replied evenly, withdrawing her hand. She strode forward with purpose, her veil concealing the slight curve of satisfaction on her lips.

The courtyard was alive with activity. Trumpeters lined the path leading to the grand iron gates, their brass instruments gleaming as they announced her presence. Guards, clad in ornate armor, stood at attention as the gates swung open, their synchronized movements a testament to the kingdom's discipline. Beyond the gates, the castle doors were flung wide to reveal an antechamber filled with nobles, servants, and attendants awaiting her arrival.

Her father, Duke Milo Caldwell, appeared at her side, his expression stoic but his hand trembling slightly as he offered his arm as custom demanded they walked in first together.

"Stay composed, Althea. Today is the beginning of a new chapter for you."

The words were meant to comfort, but they only served as a reminder of the weight on her shoulders.

Inside, the grand hall was a testament to opulence. Golden chandeliers bathed the room in a warm glow, their countless crystals catching the light and casting dancing patterns across the polished marble floor. The air was rich with the scent of jasmine and roses, their blooms arranged in cascading garlands along the walls and pillars.

A raised dais dominated the far end of the hall, where the royal family sat. King Oswald's regal presence commanded respect, his silver hair and sharp blue eyes giving him an air of timeless authority. Beside him, Queen Beryl's expression remained inscrutable, though her tight grip on the armrest betrayed her tension.

Princess Iryssa, seated to the Queen's left, offered a polite nod in Althea's direction. Her warm brown eyes seemed to soften the air of scrutiny in the room. Further down, Prince Edric lounged carelessly, his playful smirk and relaxed posture a stark contrast to the formality around him.

The herald stepped forward, his voice booming across the hall. "Announcing Lady Althea Caldwell, eldest daughter of Duke Milo Caldwell of Aldridge, and her entourage."

The nobles turned, their curious gazes sweeping over her. Althea walked with measured steps, her father's hand steadying her. Her veil, embroidered with golden thread, shifted slightly with her movements, whilst doing a fine job of distracting prying eyes from the plainness of her gown.

When they reached the dais, her father bowed deeply. "Your Highness, I present my daughter, Lady Althea Caldwell."

The King inclined his head. "You may take your seat, Duke Caldwell."

Althea was led to a pavilion at the side of the hall, where a bench draped in white silk awaited her. She lowered herself gracefully, her back straight and hands folded neatly in her lap.

The ceremony began with a procession of attendants carrying symbols of union—garlands of intertwined roses and laurel, silver trays bearing rings, and a golden chalice filled with wine. A group of musicians played a solemn tune, their violins and harps filling the hall with a melody that spoke of tradition and reverence.

A priest, his cream robes adorned with golden embroidery, stepped forward. His voice carried easily over the murmurs of the crowd. "Today, we witness the betrothal of His Royal Highness, Prince Alvah of House Alvah, and Lady Althea Caldwell of Aldridge. This union signifies not only the bond between two souls but also the strengthening of ties between their families."

The next words cut through Althea like ice.

He paused, allowing his words to settle. "His Royal Highness is currently away on matters of state and cannot be present. In his stead, his personal guard, Alistair, shall represent him."

What could be so important that the Prince would choose to be absent at his own ceremony? Was he trying to humiliate her so that she would stop the marriage?

The hall rippled with whispers, muffled behind hands and tilted heads, but the priest raised a hand to silence them.

"Do you, Lady Althea Caldwell, accept His Royal Highness, Prince Alvah, as your future husband and betrothed?"

Althea's voice was steady, betraying none of her inner turmoil. "I do."

"Does His Royal Highness, Prince Alvah, accept Lady Althea Caldwell as his future wife and betrothed?"

Alistair stepped forward, his voice firm. "He does."

The priest turned to the Duke and the King. "Do both families give their blessing to this union?"

"We do," they said in unison.

The priest presented the engagement rings, beckoning on Althea to pick the one the royal family had given to her. Under everyone's scrutiny, she picked the ring and slipped it on her finger. It was beautiful, but she had no doubt that people would be mocking her underneath their breaths; the bride who had to wear her engagement ring herself. Alistair picked the second one, securing it in a small gold pouch.

The priest smiled. "By the will of the Almighty, this union is now sealed. The wedding shall take place at the King's decree."

King Oswald stood, his voice carrying over the applause. "The wedding shall be held tomorrow. Let it be known that Lady Althea Caldwell is now a member of House Alvah."

Althea's eyes widened momentarily as the hall erupted in applause and cheers. She hadn't thought the wedding would be held so soon. She needed time to prepare first. As a turmoil of thoughts rushed through her mind, servants moved swiftly, filling goblets with wine and presenting trays of delicacies to the guests. Musicians struck up a livelier tune, and nobles began to mingle.

Althea remained seated, her thoughts churning beneath her composed exterior. The prince's absence loomed like a shadow over the celebration. Was this a test, or simply a sign of his indifference? Either way, she resolved to approach the marriage with a clear head. Emotion had no place in her plans.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. "Feeling out of place already, dear sister?"

Althea turned to see Serena standing nearby. She knew it was her because she could see the sequins of her dress glimmering through her veil.

"You seem eager to see me fail." She replied.

"Oh, I don't need to be eager," Serena replied sweetly. "The prince's absence speaks for itself. Perhaps he's already regretting this union."

Althea raised her head. "And yet, here I am, seated as his betrothed, while you stand among the spectators. How amusing the turns of fate can be,"

She imagined Serena's smirk faltering before she turned and stalked away.

Althea exhaled softly, her composure intact. This was only the beginning. Whatever lay ahead, she would face it with her head held high. She felt a hand touch her shoulder and she jerked her head up swiftly.

It was her father. She could smell his cologne.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes sir, I'm fine,"

"Don't be disturbed about the Prince's absence. He will come." The duke said, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself and not her.

"I know. Do not worry,"

"Elodie is concerned you might struggle to endure this. But I know you're stronger than that."

She smiled briefly. "Thank you,"

He turned to leave, only to stop a few steps away from her. "And Althea?"

"Yes?,"

He moved closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, "If you find no happiness with the prince after the required year, tell me. I'll ensure you're freed from this union."

"But what about –?"

"I am your father. Your happiness is all I care about,"

Her heart swelled with emotion and for the first time that evening, her resolve softened. She wasn't entirely alone and perhaps, her relationship with her father could still be fixed.