I look up. A tall man stands off to one side of the track leading out to town, partially blocking the buttery golden rays of sunlight with his tall silhouette that stretches out along the lush green grass. He is wearing a handsome black suit and a white embroidered waistcoat, a pretty golden flower tucked into his pocket- quite obviously fake. Golden flowers don't exist in these parts of the Upper realm, everybody knows that. He must have had it made specially for the occasion though, because it look incredibly realistic.
Judging by the fact nobody seems to pay particular attention to him, continuing about their business in stringing up bunting around the hedges that line the courtyard, or fixing the occasional streamer to one of the spindly trees that are dotted about, I don't pay him much mind either.
By the looks of his outfit, he is one of the guests, no doubt one of the fancy nobles that my mother invited to up her prestige. I absolutely despise my mothers associates. They give even less of a shit about me than she does.
I frown at him, trying to get a better look at him through the shadows cast over his form. I squint a little.
"Because I am marrying someone I don't want to marry, what's it to you?" I say bluntly, not particularly caring whether anyone would hear. It's not like they would care anyway. No one would believe the stories of a wild, nineteen year old princess.
The man hums faintly, seemingly unbothered by my grievances as he walks over a couple of paces to a bench under the shade of an apple tree at the edges of the courtyard, patting gingerly beside him in an attempt to get me sit down. On an ordinary day, I wouldn't bother to associate myself with any old stuck up noble who would likely ramble to me for hours about the wonderful things fate has brought them today. But today is no ordinary day, so having nothing better to do, I follow.
"That's rather unfortunate, chérie," he says lightly, reaching up to pluck an apple off the tree above us and bouncing it in his hand. Its a casual action, practised, one that I doubt he has to put any sort of thought into at all.
But it would be rather amusing if he dropped it on his head.
Under the shade, I manage to get a better look at this man. There is nothing particularly unusual about him, only that he is very pale- like me, though I am an albino by nature. His eyes are rather curious, not pink like mine, but a shimmering violet that gaze with such an intensity that you could almost ponder that he could see right through you. There is look about him that is inherently noble- more so than the actual nobility, more... regal. His high boned features, down turned eyes and dark mussy hair are the sort of assets you'd find every girl in a fifty mile radius swooning over- which is to say something as the women around these parts have impeccably high standard.
Myself included.
With a motion of practised nonchalance, he offers me the apple.
"Hungry?" he asks, narrowing his eyes slightly, as though expecting my answer already. I give him a pointed look.
There are plenty of nobility around here who would no doubt love me to make a fool of myself in front of my mother. Suppose she wandered on out and found me snacking not merely fifteen minutes before the wedding- I would never hear the end of it! But there is an earnest look on his face which is too intense to put aside, and my stomach has already made up its mind.
"Thanks," I mutter as I take the apple from him gratefully, sinking my teeth into it. The mans lips turn up in a smile. It tastes sweet, almost too sweet, but not unpleasant enough for me to stop eating. As I chew, I can almost feel myself relaxing, my nerves calming with each sullen bite. For a brief second, I almost forget about the wedding.
The stranger watches me with a keen curiosity as I eat, as though some revelation had suddenly rocketed through him. A breeze picks up around us, swirling his dark hair around his face, catching on the tips of his slightly pointed ears.
"Do you plan to do anything about it? Your loveless wedding that is?"
I sigh heavily, finishing off the apple and chucking it at the nearest bin- but missing spectacularly. I never have been a particularly good shot.
"Not really. There is not much I can do. At this point, I would rather make a deal with the devil than stick out this wedding."
At this the man chuckles, his bright eyes gleaming.
"A deal with the devil," he murmurs under his breath, fixing the position of his half cut black gloves on his wintry hands. "What a funny idea."
I give him a long look of disbelief. Funny certainly is one way to put it.
"And what about you," I say after a moment's pause, relaxing back against the bench now, folding my arms lazily behind my head. Around us, people continue to mill around aimlessly, drifting along in their own little bubbles of thought. None of them pay any mind to the soon to be wedded princess and the tall man on the bench. The sun shifts behind a cloud, plunging us into a false darkness.
"I would say you look like one of my mothers invites, but most of those nobility are much too snobbish. You seem to have decent sense, and humour- which is a lot more than I can say for most of the stuck up bitches around here. Who invited you? Or are you gate-crashing?"
He smirks.
"Quite a way with words you have, Princess. It would seem your charms are just as eccentric as your looks. But no," he replies, running a hand past his locks of hair to smooth out the disarray caused by the wind. He tips his head back. "I am not one of your mothers invites, I am here on my own accord. This wedding is supposed to be the most spectacular of the century, I thought it a shame to miss it. Though I am rather amused to find that the bride to be is not content with her engagement- I suppose it just goes to serve that not everything is as great and wonderful as it seems around here."
"You can say that again," I grunt, before another voice calls me to attention. From under the shade of the arching marble entrance to the palace, Alastor waves over to me urgently. I groan loudly.
"Shit, that's my queue," I mutter, rising from my seat to dust down the white folds of my wedding dress urgently. The man rises also, picking off a couple of leaves from my lace sleeves until I am looking sparkling and new again. Just as I am about to leave, the man calls me back.
"Hold on, chérie, a gift for the bride," he says, smiling lightly as he plucks out the golden flower from his pocket and tucks it behind my ear.
"Oh, um, thank you," I laugh nervously, to which the man chuckles a little.
"Anytime, Princess."
Alastor calls again, his voice rising up with urgency.
"Shit, shit, shit, well, got to run. See you around, Mr. And thanks for the flower!"
I leave before I can even get to hear his reply.
Alastor greets me with open arms, hugging me tightly before pulling away a little too quickly- perhaps finally feeling the embarrassment of his actions this morning. Or perhaps he just realises we are out of time.
"Who was that man you were with?" Alastor asks curiously, leading me by the arm back inside as he loops his arm around mine, picking out a leaf from my hair that I somehow failed to spot. We stop short at the intersection that leads back into the throne room. A few paces ahead are the grand double doors that lead out into the grand, marble throne room where my wedding is held, and on either side branch off two main corridors that lead around the palace.
"Oh, just some gentleman coming to watch the wedding- but not any of the snobbish ones that mother likes." Upon hearing this, the twitch of Alastor's tail dies down, a look of relief flashing across his features.
"I see. Well, rather unfortunately you are five minutes late to your own wedding, your mother is probably going to be pissed."
I snicker in response.
"Not as pissed as she is going to be when she finds out the reason was because I was talking with a stranger, and he gave me a flower too."
"Fair point," Alastor concedes with a dip of his head, grinning widely. I sneak a peak into the throne room, the length of the floor covered by a narrow golden carpet that leads up to the dais where the thrones are at the other end. A canopy of flowers sits at the far end where a tall, unfamiliar stands waiting. I gulp. Alastor turns to me, his fox eyes sparkling.
"This is it. The Prince is already up there, now we just need to wait for-"