'Well, this is a funny sight.'
The seamstress is about to faint at the sight of the prince, Tyra just spilled tea on one of the new dresses and is being scolded by her mother, and the prince and Gene are just sitting on the sofa and hiding their amusement.
Gene hasn't seen him since their walk the day before. He was out late with the duke and Leif, and this morning she could finally skip breakfast with everyone, pretending that she wasn't feeling well. The prince hasn't initiated a conversation either, even though they have been sitting next to each other for almost twenty minutes.
"Mrs. Krog, can we please start trying on dresses. We have inconvenienced His Highness enough."
The duchess' words make Mrs. Krog's face tint a shade of green. "Of course." She bows, fidgeting before she brings forward a few ball gowns.
None of them catch Gene's eye. Tyra, on the other hand, wants to try every single one of them.
"So why do we have to match anyway?" Gene utters, breaking the silence between her and Brandt.
"It is just a tradition, it was started hundreds of years ago. It's to show that we support each other no matter what," the prince answers.
"And wearing the same color proves that?"
He just shrugs.
Something clicks in her chest and she finds herself fully facing him, not even caring that they aren't alone. Not that anyone is paying attention to them right now. Tyra is truly an attention hogger.
"Then does that mean that we are supposed to protect each other?" Her question surprises the prince.
'If that is the case, then why did he order the death of his fiancée?'
"Of course." He frowns.
"From anything?"
"Is there anything you want to share with me, lady Siv?" he whispers, straightening his back.
'Yes, you are going to kill me.'
"No, I am just curious." She leans back on the sofa.
He eyes her for a moment before relaxing his body too. "Shouldn't you be choosing a dress, my lady?" he asks.
"What's your favorite color?" Gene smiles.
"Blue." Now it is his turn to grin.
She pushes to her feet and walks to the displayed dresses. Mrs. Krog, her assistant, and the duchess are still busy with Tyra. Gene looks around for a bit before her eyes fall on the most gorgeous gown she has ever seen.
It is made out of blue silk taffeta and embellished with handmade embroideries and beautiful white and blue crystals. The long sleeves are made out of lace that is also present on the hems. She immediately picks it up and walks back to the prince.
"Done," she announces.
"Excellent choice, lady Siv." With a smile, the prince pushes to his feet, which gets the attention of the other women in the room. "Then, I shall excuse myself. I am sure you ladies have more things to take care of." Everyone in the room bows to him as he leaves.
The afternoon is spent in trying the dress and the seamstress using pins to get Gene's exact measurements. She has to stand the whole time without even moving, afraid that she would get poked by one of the hundred pins. Add to that Tyra's constant bickering with her mother over her indecision. Toward the end of it all, Gene was ready to commit murder.
When she finally enters her room, she crashes on the bed, face down. But she can't even enjoy that for five minutes before Veda shows up.
"My lady, do you want to start getting ready for supper?"
"No," she groans. "Can I just skip dinner too?" she whines.
"It would be very rude, my lady," she answers. "And the duchess will not permit it." Veda is already buried in the wardrobe.
For someone used to spend her days in bed, playing an online game or watching Anime and movies, this is real torture for Gene.
Dinner is also torture.
The fake cheerfulness makes Gene want to gag, so she just tunes them all out and focuses on her food.
"What do you think, Siv?" Tyra's question startles her.
Gene feels her cheeks turn red. "I apologize, but my mind was wandering elsewhere. What was the question?"
"Lady Erling was made captain in His Majesty's Lions a few days ago," Tyra scoffs. "Should a woman really be part of the army?" she asks with a sneer.
"Why not?" The words escape Gene's mouth before she could even think about them. Of course, everyone around the table almost chokes.
"You don't think it is dangerous for a woman to go to war, or worse, to lead in the army?" It is Leif's turn to ask this time.
Gene frowns at his comment, annoyed. 'Is it even worth having a discussion about this subject with people with such ideas?'
"I believe that I have the right to have my own opinions on different matters." She was hoping this would end the conversation. But she was a fool to think so.
"But some views are just wrong," Leif announces, proud of himself as he exchanges smiles with his family members.
Gene can't help but let out a loud laugh that shakes her whole body. His words are so ridiculous that she just can't hold it in. She wonders if she looks like a crazy person to this narrow minded audience.
"Leif, do you think you are better than a woman?" she asks after she calms down. Her question makes his face a dark shade of crimson with a few veins popping out.
"Of course I am, I am able to handle a sword and fight," he spits.
"Were you born with those abilities?" Gene asks, making him pause to think for a moment.
"No," he answers.
"Do you train daily in sword fighting?"
"Yes."
"Then, why would it be different for a woman? If nobody is born a master of sword fighting, why couldn't a woman train every day and become stronger just like a man?"
The room falls into silence and her eyes accidentally meet with the prince's. There is a hint of something in them, but she can't put her finger on it. Something good though since a smile is pulling on his lips.
"But isn't it inappropriate for a woman to be alone with all those men in the army?" The duchess feels the need to save her son's pride.
"Then maybe if there were more women in the army, she wouldn't have to be alone there." Gene's comment makes the prince chuckle.
"I never knew my fiancée was so passionate about the subject," he utters.
"You never asked," she responds, making him laugh again.
Gene can feel everyone's eyes on them but nobody dares add a word. Thankfully, they finish dessert just after that, making the awkwardness short-lived.
Everyone starts heading to the sitting room for some drinks. Drinks meaning: throat burning whiskey for the men and fruity 'juice' for the women.
'So annoying, not that I want to taste that whiskey ever again.'
"May I have a word, lady Siv?" Brandt's voice comes from behind her. They stay back after the dining hall empties.
"Are you going to give me your honest opinion about my views?" she jokes.
"I already did." His answer is nonchalant. "I was actually the one who pushed for Lady Erling to be accepted."
Gene stares at him in surprise. "I did not expect that."
"That hurts my feelings," he says jokingly.
"So what did you want to talk about, Your Highness?"
"I am leaving tomorrow morning."
'Already? I wanted to learn more about how he feels about Siv.'
She feels disappointment spread through her chest, but she doesn't want to show any feelings.
"Well, have a safe trip, Your Highness."
Gene turns to hurry away from him, but he grabs her bruised wrist, making her hiss in pain. He immediately releases her arm.
"What happened?" he asks, the worry evident on his face, "Did I squeeze your arm too hard?"
"No." She rubs her wrist. "It's nothing."
"Show me," he orders with a tone that nobody would have the courage to refuse.
She lifts her sleeve, revealing the blue and purple marks the duchess left on her arm.
"Who did this?" he demands, pulling her hand closer to him for a better view, "Is this what you were asking about earlier?"
"What I was asking—"
"About protecting each other?"
"No—"
"You are coming with me to the capital tomorrow," he interrupts her.
"What? I can't."
"What do you mean you can't?"
'I need to stay here and investigate more.'
"I am taking you with me tomorrow, end of discussion."
'Well, that escalated quickly.'
*********
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