The Seventh of Palefrost,
Restoration Cathedral by the Royal Palace.
A heat burst in Blythe's chest as she locked lips with the powerful man.
His mouth was gentle and slow, almost softly and carefully tasting her but the grip on her waist was strong and tight, holding her close.
She gasped when their lips parted and his eyes searched her face for a moment before his expression returned to being as emotionless as they had been before.
Blythe collected herself before glancing over at the royal family that sat in the pews. Her parents and siblings all sat in the front as well, her mother in happy tears. There were happy cheers going through the Cathedral.
She managed a shy smile as she took her new husband's arm and gently descended the stairs, her heart racing from the kiss.
All of the tumultuous thoughts that had occupied her mind had cleared in an instant when her groom had reached for her and drawn her close.
Blythe blushed as the two walked up the aisle to leave the church.
She couldn't handle looking up to meet the man's eyes.
A week before, when one of the three princes, Augustus had visited to ask if she would marry his younger brother in a purely contractual arrangement, she had been very firm in a no, agreeing only after he had offered to take care of her family.
Now, a week later, she had fallen hopelessly in love with the mysterious, kind and powerful Prince Elliot who was fighting to keep his younger brother off the throne.
Stepping out of the beautiful church into the glaring sunlight, she gasped when she heard the crowds roar with approval.
Blythe blinked in surprise before smiling back at the people who had gathered outside to witness the royal marriage.
As she slowly descended the stairs with the aid of her husband, Blythe took in her situation.
She was now a princess.
Something in her surged.
She knew her husband was not in love with her but something about the week they'd known each other assured her she had married a strong, capable man that was gentle and given to loyalty.
The Contract resurfaced in her mind and she sobered.
Prince Elliot had asked to marry her at his brother's pushing but his lone goal was to ensure his younger brother Cecil did not get on the throne.
Blythe's grip on Elliot's arm tightened, prompting him to give her a quick glance.
She had remembered Cecil's wife, Elliot's ex-fiancé, and her chest pained for a moment.
That woman was not to be trusted.
Not with any relationship.
Aldith Everglower was a capricious lady with an unparalleled level of beauty and a scheming heart. She charmed her way into people's hearts to get what she wanted and Blythe was sure she would use any way necessary to get Elliot's attention if he got closer to the throne.
The reason she had seduced Cecil to marry her, of course, had been to marry the man set to reign and she would not be below working her way into Elliot's life if he were seen as closer to succession than Cecil.
Walking to the large carriage that waited for them, Blythe vowed to be the support her husband needed to succeed and the foil in whatever plan Aldith hatched to get close to Elliot.
Taking her husband's hand to get into the carriage, she finally looked into his eyes.
The calm eyes she'd grown to love that had first struck her as intense. The eyes she would look into for the rest of her life.
"Prince Elliot…"
"My love?"
Her heart flipped at his voice, dipped low and calm, eyes still watching her.
"I- we will take the throne. Together."
His eyes stilled when she said the words, his mouth slightly open.
A hand reached up to tenderly cup her face before he touched his lips to her forehead, eyes closing.
She felt her cheeks heat up when the crowd cheered wildly behind them.
"We will."
He looked down at her, eyes full of a warm love she had only caught glimpses of, "Together."
The First of the month of PaleFrost.
Humble Town of Edgecraft,
South of the Royal Palace.
The fabric that lay in heaps around Blythe caused her to want to scream.
She had several deadlines due the next morning. Her apprentice failing to show had taken the last shred of patience out of her and she wanted to lie down on the wooden floor and sob.
Straightening, she reached for a gorgeous lace, her mind trying to arrange her chores in order so as to help her to get the jobs done.
A knock on her door caused a tiny thrill of excitement in her heart.
Who could be calling on her?
Blythe Gardenlight had moved to the new town a mere month before to look for a good employment. She had had to come to the town to make money to send home to her family.
A family of seven, including herself, there was only so much her parents could do to put food on the table.
After a year of working around in her own town, Blythe had been instructed to go looking for a job in the town of Edgecraft where she now stood.
The town had several wealthy families looking for a talented seamstress to sow them custom and incredibly rich clothes.
Blythe considered the grace of God in it all as an immaculate help on her side.
She had moved to the town and had received orders in mere days.
The wealthy women had seen her samples and had rushed forward to place their requests.
Blythe had been able to send a large amount of money, in a week, to her family and had only received more orders from her healthily satisfied clients.
Three weeks after beginning her job, Blythe had hired a small girl to help her with the simple stitches and had been over the moon with the success of her job.
The feeling of single-handedly, and with the grace of God, supporting your family did wonders to Blythe's self-esteem.
She walked to the door, telling herself she was prepared to take on anything that came her way.
Opening the door, the lovely girl paused at the silhouette that stood against the sunlight.
After a moment, her eyes adjusted to see the pleasant smile on the handsome stranger that had come knocking. He looked faintly familiar.
"Blythe Gardenlight?" His voice had a confident ring to it.
"That would be me. And you are, sir?"
"Allow me to make your acquaintance," the gallant man bowed the finery of his clothes and the sweep of his body, gradual and firm, catching her by surprise, "I am Augustus Whitecrest, eldest Prince and first-in-line to the throne and I come urgently to ask a favour of you."