Warning: This chapter contains a detailed description of a panic attack.
Chapter 22:
First Meeting
The prince moved his head side to side as he looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were still burning blue, but they were a little dull in the dim light. His navy blue hair was long and tied back in a low ponytail, highlighting his high cheekbones and tall nose. His face had aged over the past ten years, and he was beginning to lose the childish softness in his face. His lips were twisted into a loose frown, and his eyebrows were knitted as he pinched his cheeks, feeling what little fat was left in his face.
He then looked at the posh, uncomfortable suit he was forced to wear. The frilly, white linen shirt with a gold vest on top of it made Clarence feel silly, and the gold-colored knee breeches made him feel like a child.
"Do I really have to wear this absurd outfit to see the Bethell kingdom ambassadors?" Clarence said with a disgusted tone as he looked at himself in the mirror. Clarence had been informed early in the morning that ambassadors from the Bethell kingdom were arriving later that afternoon to discuss a new agreement. The king and queen insisted Clarence sit in on the meeting, and wear an outfit that was sent ahead as a gift and show of peace. Clarence raised his eyebrows in suspicion at the outfit, but he decided not to say anything, as it was common for countries to send fabrics and clothing from their kingdom as a gift to other kingdoms. It was also incredibly common for royal families to wear the gifted clothing as a sign of respect and appreciation. Clarence assumed they sent such a gaudy outfit to him in particular as an early gift to win his favor for when he becomes king.
"Please, Your Majesty, this was a gift from the Bethell kingdom. It would be incredibly insulting not to wear it." The steward said as he fixed the back of Clarence's shirt collar.
"I don't care if it's a gift! I look absolutely absurd!" Clarence said as he turned his head towards the steward, "I mean, look at me! I look like urine-covered snow!"
The steward tried to stifle a laugh by clearing his throat and said, "Please, Your Majesty, stand still, so I can fix your outfit." Clarence huffed in frustration, but stood still and waited for the steward to finish the final touches. After a few more tugs and pulls, the steward took a step back and sighed happily,
"There we are. You can relax now, Your Majesty." Clarence shook out his stiff shoulders and thanked the happy steward,
"Thank you, steward. Excellent work, as always."
"I'm honored you are pleased, Your Majesty." He said with a bow.
"That was incredibly fast too. Do you usually work with clothing from the east?"
"Why, yes, Your Majesty. I'm from a small village in the east, and I spent many years with the Bethell royal family, so I'm familiar with eastern clothing."
Clarence felt his cheeks warm as he thought about what he said, and the steward laughed heartily.
��I apologize. I hope I didn't offend you." Clarence said bashfully, "The clothing isn't that bad really."
"Please don't apologize, Your Majesty." The steward said with a smile, "I think the clothing is unappealing also. Though I do think you look like fresh snow, if I may say so, Your Majesty."
Clarence's face quickly broke into a smile, then a chuckle.
As Clarence chuckled quietly to himself, there was a shallow knock at the door, followed by a timid voice of a young maid. "Your Majesty, the guests from the Bethell Kingdom will be arriving soon."
The steward adjusted the gaudy lace collar of the white blouse once again with his gloved fingers before he placed his hands down at his sides and bowed, "Shall we go to the throne room, Your Majesty?" Clarence waited until the steward's head was bowed before he adjusted the tight jabot collar around his neck with a finger. As the steward raised his head and moved towards the door, motioning with his hands for the prince to follow, Clarence sighed to himself one more time and walked out the door, his servants following closely behind.
…
"Entering His Majesty, the Crown Prince Clarence Godfreed." One of the guards shouted from within the throne room as Clarence awkwardly stood outside the large, ornate door. After a moment of mumbling, the doors slowly opened to reveal the king and queen sitting loftily on their throne chairs.
The prince carefully walked up to his parents, attempting to walk naturally in his stiff, uncomfortable costume. As he approached the throne, his eyes traced over the stiff expressions of his parents, full of anticipation and seriousness, as if they had been waiting for him to arrive before they could say what they had been thinking about. As Clarence looked at them, the hair on the back of his neck began to stand up, and he knew something was wrong. Alarm bells chimed in his mind as he continued forward with some trepidation.
As Clarence approached the throne, the King spoke down in a low voice to him, his tone more direct than usual, "Clarence, we have some news for you. Please listen carefully."
The queen sat quietly next to the king, her expression plaid and stiff, as if she were keeping herself from interjecting. Her hands were clasped onto the chair, and her eyes were impatient. Clarence felt she was obviously unhappy, but he was unsure of why, until he looked over to Alywin.
Alywin and his father stood to the right side of the room, just to the side of the steps to the throne, with the other powerful dukes and the king's advisors. Alywin's father, one of the most powerful dukes in the kingdom, stood near the king, standing unmoving as he watched Clarence enter and approach the king and queen. Alywin looked a great deal like his father, both being tall, with curly, blonde hair and sharp, brown eyes. Alywin's father; however, was much more imposing with his hard features and cold eyes. Alywin's expression, on the other hand, was flat, and he was dressed more formally than usual, donning a light blue ribbon on his blouse. His pants were neatly tucked into the waist of his formal black dress pants. This was a large change to the usual Alywin, who had hated tucking in his dress shirts. Seeing even his hair styled neatly out of his face, Clarence felt a line of cold sweat drip down his back.
Closer to the king was his closest advisor, Sir Willis. Sir Willis had been the king's closest advisor for ten years. His eyes had deep bird's feet on the edges, and his slicked back hair and streaks of grey from age. His snake-like eyes were narrowed as he smiled a polite smile towards the prince with his thin, pale lips. With the dress suit on him, he looked fuller than he had in the past. The king had obviously treated him well, and held a great opinion of him.
When Clarence turned to face the king again, the King continued speaking, "The eldest princess from the Bethell Kingdom has come to visit on her way to a monastery to pray. We are hoping to foster a strong relationship between our kingdom and the Bethell Kingdom, so we are hoping to discuss a possible marriage between the two of you."
The king seemed pleased with the possible agreement, but Clarence could feel his heart in his chest drop, and his body felt as if it had been frozen by his words. The tips of his fingers and toes were cold, and he could only think of how unhappy he would be, forced to marry a woman for a political marriage between the two countries. He kept his expression flat, fixed in place, but it was difficult for him to maintain it for long.
"Father, I do not want to-" Just as Clarence had spoken up, the queen interjected with a critical tone.
"Clarence Dinthle Godfreed, the princess has already arrived and is waiting in the sitting room to come in. Even if you are uninterested in her after meeting with her, you must not be rude or direct with your feelings. I will not tolerate any disrespect towards the Bethell princess, do I make myself clear?"
Clarence shrunk away from his mother's sharp eyes and tone with a sideways glance, "Yes, Mother." He uttered.
Queen Radcliffe, seeing Clarence's reaction, softened her tone, "Now, Clarence. This doesn't make your engagement official. This is just a custom for prospective fiancees to come to the kingdom they wish to marry into. Hopefully after this we can arrange something similar with the Gardo kingdom. The women from my home country are both beautiful and intelligent. One from Gardo would greatly help you in your future rule."
The queen proudly smiled as she thought about her home country, but the king frowned sourly, "That may be true, my dear, but the Bethell kingdom has always been a strong ally of the Yursear kingdom. A union between the two would be best for both countries."
"If you remember correctly, darling, that's what you said until you saw me in our first meeting. Maybe Clarence will be the same way." The queen said with a smirk of victory as the king shrunk in his seat.
"Go fetch the princess." The king said to a nearby steward with a grumble, who bowed before hurrying out of the throne room. As Clarence watched the steward run off, his hands began to shake and his heart felt like it was dropping in his stomach. He did not even hear his mother ask him to sit next to her. It took one of the queen's attendants coming up to him and gently guiding him to his seat on the throne next to his mother that Clarence's feet began to move. As Clarence sat in his seat to the right of another empty chair, the queen looked over with a frown. She leaned over to Clarence and whispered,
"Clarence, I know this is surprising, but this is a part of being the crown prince. I wish we could have warned you about this, but I know you, and I know you would've snuck out, so you would not have to meet the princess. That is why your father and I decided to lie to you about who was coming." She reached out and squeezed Clarence's icy hand, his palm clammy with cold sweat, "Please just behave and get through this meeting."
After one more squeeze from the queen, the princess's arrival outside the room was announced, and the queen straightened up in her seat as the king gave the nod to open the door. Slowly, the large doors opened by the guards opening them from the inside, and in came a large entourage of maids, their hair all pulled back and simple, lace bonnets sitting on their heads. They all wore dark blue dresses with lace decorations that matched their bonnets, blossoming out of their sleeves like flower petals. As they entered the room and moved off to the sides, leaving an aisle in the middle, Clarence noticed they were carrying expensive silks and other gifts in their hands. They all bowed deeply, then stood with their heads down turned.
Finally, the oldest princess of the Bethell kingdom, a young girl of fifteen years old, stepped through the doors, her head bowed respectfully as she approached the Yursinean royal family. Her long, dark brown hair was pulled away of her small, blushing face in an elegant twist of curls, held back by pearls and fresh, Yursinean flowers, and her dress, a formal, white Yursinean dress with an intricately-beaded, gold empire waist and long sleeves, dragged behind her in true Yursinean fashion as a sign of respect for her Yursinean hosts. She clasped her lace-gloved hands together as she approached the royal family, and when she got close, she stopped and slowly dropped her hands and bowed deeply. Only with a jolly, "Rise, rise!" from the king did she look up.
Clarence's eyes bulged as he looked at the Bethell kingdom's oldest princess. Even to Clarence, she was incredibly beautiful. With her long, brown hair gently pulled back from her face, her large, green eyes stood out behind her long lashes. Her tall, elegant nose greatly flattered her well-rounded lips, which were shaded with a light pink, and her lightly rouged cheeks warmed her peach cheeks slightly as she smiled at Clarence, which accented her dimples. Clarence awkwardly smiled back, and she looked down as her smile grew.
"It's an honor to have you in our humble kingdom, Princess Charlotte." The king said with a jolly smile.
"It's truly an honor to be here, Your Majesty." Princess Charlotte said, bowing slightly before signalling towards her maids all around her, "I have brought some small gifts with me. I hope Your Majesty and Her Highness will find these gifts pleasant."
"Of course." The king said with a wide smile as he moved his hand over to an open seat next to Clarence, "You must be exhausted from your long journey. Please come and take a seat next to my son, the Crown Prince Clarence Godfreed." The queen smiled in approval before lightly jabbing Clarence in the side.
"Go help her to her seat." The queen whispered to Clarence, not moving her gaze from the Princess or breaking her smile. Clarence quickly rose from his seat and nodded at the Princess before walking towards her. It was only then that Clarence noticed she had a large, intimidating man beside her, who looked down at Clarence with a look of sheer annoyance. The man was incredibly tall, with large, muscular arms that were barely contained in heavy armor. On his hip was a large sword that Clarence imagined he handled with ease. His legs were also covered by the armor, so he looked like a true knight. On his head was a helmet with the visor down, covering all of his face except for his eyes, which stood out brightly from under his visor. He eyed Clarence intently, his hand never far from his sword. Clarence tried to hide his fear and nodded his head at the intimidating man.
Charlotte noticed the exchange and smiled at Clarence while holding up her hand to the large knight, "Please excuse my knight. He is my bodyguard, and he comes in my father's place." She turned towards the king and queen, "My father sends his deepest condolences for his lack of attendance. A conflict required his immediate attention, so he had to remain in Herne while I made my journey here."
"Not a problem, Princess Charlotte. You'll just have to visit us again with your father." The king said with a smile.
Clarence took his cue when the conversation ended and lifted his arm, which Princess Charlotte grabbed on to with a gentle grasp. Together, they walked over to the open seat and, while gently grabbing her dress under her, Charlotte took a seat. The knight followed closely behind, and then stood slightly behind Charlotte in her seat. With her settled in, Clarence sat in his seat next to her. And with the royalty settled, the nobles sat at the nearby tables and the maids curtseyed and moved to the sides of the large room.
Many of the nobles were happily smiling at the couple, and the king happily smirked at his wife, who returned his smirk with an annoyed smile. Alywin could barely hide his look of annoyance at the display, though, and a scowl distorted his handsome face.
"Smile. You are in front of the king." His father snapped at him in a hushed tone as he stared forward with a smile.
"My apologies, Father." Alywin said as he forced a smile on his unwilling lips. His eyes were full of irritation, hinting at his true attitude towards the princess's arrival.
"Princess Charlotte, I have heard from your mother you are an admirer of the arts." The Queen said as she turned to the Bethellian princess.
"Oh, yes. Very much so." Charlotte said with a modest smile. "Though my trip to the Yursear Kingdom will be short, I am very much looking forward to learning more about the culture and arts here."
"I'm so glad to hear that, because we've prepared a little performance for you." The queen clapped her hands, and the doors opened as dancers streamed into the throne room.
As the rhythmic string and drum music played and the dancers, dressed in a variety of colored, sparkling costumes, assembled around the room, the air of the room was jubilant and welcoming, full of a crowd of costumed, smiling faces. The tuile trails of their shawls traced through the air as the dancers waited in place for the music to hit the proper beat before they moved their hands high in the air as they started the fast-paced, traditional Yursinean dance.
As the dancers' feet tapped onto the ground, the nobles all quietly watched, fixated on the lively display in front of them. Even the Queen and King watched the dance with an enthusiastic smile, happy to display their culture to Princess Charlotte. Even the guest princess's eyes were sparkling in excitement. Her green eyes were fixed in front of her, enjoying the artistic dance.
The display itself was very similar to the parade ten years earlier, and seeing such a familiar scene in front of him again, Clarence could not tear his eyes away either. In fact, his body was frozen in place, his fingers clutching the throne chair with an inhuman tightness, causing his knuckles to turn white from the tension. His head spun as the dancers in front of his eyes began to change in his vision, suddenly flashing to the elves in the performers' costumes they had stolen ten years earlier, the same costumes they had worn when they had attempted to assassinate him.
As the prince sat, his breath short and frantic, his vision began to blur as his mind was thrown into disorder. Images of the elf from that day, holding the dagger above his head, pointing it at Clarence's head, haunted his brain as the images flashed by his eyes, leaving no chance for him to stop them. His pulse heightened as his stomach churned, and he swallowed back the vomit attempting to climb his throat that wanted to escape there on his lap. The feeling of nausea swallowed him entirely and made this throat burn.
Clarence could feel the tips of his fingers tremble as his chest began to tighten. The feeling of a heavy rock weighing down on his chest made it seem as though he was suffocating. With little decorum, Clarence frantically lifted his fingers to his collar, but the buttons were fixated in place, and he could not work them out of their places, making him feel more and more breathless. His fingers shook so much that it was difficult for him to do anything with them.
Clutching his cold, stiff hands in his lap, Clarence dug his nails in his dress pants to bring back the feeling in his limbs. The thought of his impending death brought him back into the moment, and all of the feelings he had felt then had taken hold of his mind and rooted themselves to his eyes, making it impossible to see anything else, impossible for him to escape anywhere else.
Clarence's frantic breathing caught the attention of the princess, who glanced over in concern.
"Prince Clarence, are you alright?" She whispered, leaning in towards him, yet Clarence could not hear her question, because of the intense ringing in his ears. She tried to hide the worry building up in her, but it was hard to control her facial expression, though she had no idea why Clarence was panicking. As the performance began to slow to a finish, Charlotte glanced over at the ghostly white Clarence, who still clung to his chair with a grip of death. With a final bow, the dancers finished, and the roar of applause consumed the crowd, giving Charlotte a moment to think of something to do to distract the distraught prince before he was noticed by someone else.
"Your Majesties, that was an exceptional performance." She said happily, leaning forward and covering the quivering Clarence from the eyes of the audience, "And, if you would like, I can play a traditional Bethellian piece." Charlotte waved her hand towards one of the many attendants to her side, motioning for one of them to pass her instrument to her. Without delay, one of them procured a small golden, handheld harp. The metal bottom was shiny and clean without the slightest scratch, and it was engraved with traditional wildlife and birds from the Bethell Kingdom. It was truly a beautiful harp. In her hands, it looked like a piece of a painting: gentle and finished.
The attendants prepared a chair in the front of the room for the princess to sit on, and Princess Charlotte's knight led her by the hand to the chair, where she carefully sat down, fixing her skirt as she sat with her legs to the side, facing the royal family. The knight adjusted the chair once more before standing
With soft movements, the princess lifted her manicured fingers and began to pluck at the strings, as if testing the harp's sound. After a short moment, she let out a small breath and then adjusted her posture once more before she adjusted her fingers over the strings and began to play a small tune. The sweet sound of the harp reverberated throughout the room, leaving the audience to sit quietly in their seats while they listened closely. Hearing the sweet tune coming from the harp lulled Clarence out of his panicked state and into one of calm. As the princess continued to play, Clarence stared on in wonder.
As Princess Charlotte sped up her tune, the sound of strain from the strings became more pronounced, and her expression dropped lightly as she attempted to keep playing through the song at least until the end of the next verse. This however, did not work in her favor. There was a snapping sound, followed by the swish of the string flying through the air, moving towards the young princess's face. She flinched, attempting to move her hand back towards her head to block it, but a hand reached out and moved in front of the string.
Before anyone could blink or breathe, the Bethellian princess's knight had reached his hand out and grabbed the string as it swung up, aiming right for the princess's unmarked face. A disturbed silence fell in the room as the knight stood, his hand in front of the princess's frozen face, holding the snapped string in his clenched fist. Slowly, as if time itself had slowed down, a red substance leaked out of the knight's clenched fist and fell downward, splattering on the princess's white dress.
The knight, seeing this, opened his fist finger by finger, making great care so the string did not strike the princess. After he had released all his fingers, he grabbed the harp with his other hand and dismissively passed it to a waiting, shocked attendant, who quickly took it. Princess Charlotte grabbed the knight's bleeding hand, trying to see the cut as she began to chastise him, but he yanked his bleeding hand out of her grasp and turned towards the king.
"This event is over." The knight said roughly, his voice deep and commanding, startling everyone in the room back into reality. One of the nobles began to protest, but the king quickly silenced him by raising his hand, as if he were thinking of what to do next.
Sir Willis, having been the King's advisor, quickly moved beside the king and quickly whispered in his ear in a low voice, "Your majesty, we should end the event here today. The princess has been hurt, and if we continue with the event," Willis paused, his gaze causing the king to look over at the bleeding knight and the panicked Charlotte, who was still sitting in her chair with a frightened expression, "It may make our kingdom look bad."
"Princess Charlotte's knight is right. He's bleeding profusely. It's only right he gets immediate attention, and I don't want Princess Charlotte to feel uncomfortable without her knight present. Prepare Princess Charlotte a room to rest in, and summon the royal doctor for this brave knight."
All of the servants scattered to follow the king's orders as the princess's attendants surrounded her and the knight, attending to their frazzled mistress. The knight stepped out of the way as everyone scattered, maids and stewards running to and fro, the queen and king leaving the room, and the nobles huddling together as they whispered among themselves, mostly wondering and discussing loudly how a knight had the audacity to directly address the king, especially in such a condescending way. Clarence stood from his seat, ready to go over to the princess and ask her if she was alright, but she was quickly swept out of the room with her knight following close behind, a handkerchief sloppily tied around his bleeding hand. Instead, Clarence watched them leave and sighed heavily before following after them.
Alywin watched Clarence leaving with keen eyes. As Clarence slipped out, Alywin glanced at his father, who was busy haughtily discussing what just transpired with other high-ranking nobles, so he took the chance to get lost in the moving crowd and slipped out of the buzzing hall to follow Clarence. As he hurried along, he saw Clarence knock on a door. Before Alywin could call out to him, the door opened, and Clarence entered.
"That little-" Alywin hissed out before stopping himself from finishing his sentence as a maid slipped past him. Instead, Alywin dipped to the side and waited for Clarence to emerge from the room where he knew Princess Charlotte had been ushered into as he watched a steady stream of maids and manservants enter and exit the room.
…
"Prince Clarence!" Princess Charlotte said as she rose from her seat. Clarence navigated around the mass of servants to Charlotte's side and bowed his head sheepishly.
"How are you, Princess Charlotte? And how is your knight feeling?" Charlotte smiled and nodded,
"I'm fine. And thankfully, my knight is alright. The doctor is looking at him right now, but the maids have told me it's nothing serious, which makes me relieved," She paused for a moment, "Please tell your father that he has my gratitude for his constant kindness. My knight may have a sharp tongue, but he truly means nothing by it."
Clarence held out his hands and said, "It's the least we could do. After all, you got hurt in our care."
The princess smiled, but her eyebrows were furrowed, "It's just so odd. I've used my harp for years, and I've never had an issue with the strings before." She then shook her head and smiled, "Anyway, I'm glad you've joined me. I'd like to speak with you privately. Would you join me outside?" She said as she held her hand up towards the glass doors leading to a small balcony.
"Of course!" Clarence said as he held out his arm that Charlotte gently grasped. They closed the short distance to the french doors, and Clarence opened them with his free hand. Charlotte let go of his arm, slipped out, and when he joined her, she grasped his arm again.
"It's so beautiful here." Charlotte said with a wistful sigh as she stared out at the buzzing town and the flowing fields beyond them, "The Bethell kingdom is so full of smog and people, the view is never this clear or stunning."
"Is it a beautiful view? It seems awfully plain to me." Clarence said as he stared out at the landscape quizzically. Charlotte looked at Clarence and smiled,
"Maybe you've become so used to the view, that you've become blind to its beauty?" Charlotte released Clarence's arm and stepped to the edge of the balcony and placed her hands on the cold, stone railing as she looked out, "Prince Clarence, to tell you the truth, I was scared to come here at first. Leaving my home in search of a husband is incredibly intimidating," She turned and looked at Clarence, who stood staring at Charlotte, bemused, "But when I first saw you, I knew you were genuine and kind. Those are two characteristics that are very hard to find in places like these." She looked back out at the fields of wildflowers, greenery, and trees as the wind blew around them, "I would never ask you to make a decision now, but if you would take me, I hope you would strongly consider me for the position of your wife."
Clarence stood, shocked. His eyes widened and his jaw hung slightly. He had never been confessed to, and he felt at a loss of what he should do. He tried to muster a reply, but the door opening behind them saved Clarence from thinking of something to say.
"Your Majesty!" Alywin said with a forced smile as he slipped through the door, "I'm so glad I found you. The queen has requested your presence. Immediately!" Alywin looked at the blushing princess, who looked away from the two and nodded her head in acknowledgement of Alywin. "Oh, Princess Charlotte! I'm sorry, I didn't see you! I hope you are feeling better, especially since you practically fled from the throne room after messing up-"
"Did you say 'immediately'? We should go then!" Clarence said as he forcefully turned Alywin around and began pushing him back inside, "Goodbye, Princess Charlotte." Clarence said gently with a blush on his face as he pushed Alywin in the room. She nodded in response, and Clarence turned back to a forcefully-smiling Alywin. Clarence dragged Alywin out of the room and into a quiet hallway before angrily whispering,
"What was that?"
Alywin dropped his fake smile, "What was what?" His eyes were dark as his expression fell.
Clarence frowned before crossing his arms over his chest, responding back, "You know exactly what I'm talking about."
"What, me being annoyed that you were ogling that princess? I thought you didn't like women!"
"I don't feel that way about Princess Charlotte. Honestly." Clarence said with a deep frown, lifting his hands in defense of himself, "I think she's pretty and kind, but I'm definitely not attracted to her"
"Oh really? Except you ran to her room like a dog in heat after she left!" Alywin snapped angrily. His voice was low and sharp, much harder than his usual lofty tone.
Clarence stared at Alywin for what felt like a long time, but were only moments as a large smile grew on Clarence's lips, "Are you jealous?"
Alywin froze for a moment before rolling his eyes and scoffing loudly, "You can't be serious." He turned away from Clarence with his arms crossed.
Clarence smirked at Alywin as he twisted his body to face Alywin, "You are!" Alywin's face grew into a deep frown as his face tinted red. He turned to walk away, but Clarence grabbed his arm, "Alywin, I'm sorry. I just never thought you liked me that much."
Alywin sourly frowned and pulled his arm away, "I don't. I just don't want you to jump into anything too quickly."
"Don't worry. I won't." Clarence smiled and grabbed Alywin's hand that was resting at his side, "I won't do anything that would make you this jealous again."
Alywin's eyes snapped over to Clarence and his face soured further, "We're leaving as soon as she leaves. Be ready." Alywin then yanked his hand out of Clarence's and began to walk away.
"I'll be waiting for you!" Clarence called, waving his hand high over his head at the diminishing, fuming figure of Alywin.