Ulric, the butler, prowled the halls attending to his duties with a grin. News spread between the butterflies about the hedylid Queen who was to be wed.
Behind closed walls, Riona had argued that she had no suitors in mind to which Ulric suggested that each lord should send one they think suitable. Friend or family.
It had been a gloomy month since the decision and the suitors were due to arrive this week. As a result, Riona was nowhere to be found on the castle grounds. She had locked herself up in her study, where she would sit on the windowpane and stare out the window. Her eyes would continuously attempt to distract her mind by admiring stories… but to no prevail. She wore a frown as if it were part of her accoutrements. Her hand slid longingly over the pages of books, as if wishing to return to her childhood, before everything came crashing down.
Ulric politely knocked on the door, though, Riona wouldn't answer him. She was still cross at her servant. "Madam, would you please open the door? I've brought you a tray of sweet things. Your favourite pie included."
She retracted her hand and balled it tightly. Riona grumbled, her sharp ears pinning down, "No amount of desert will erase my fury, Ulric."
The man sighed with a tint of annoyance, "You haven't eaten healthy proportions since the gathering. I'm afraid you might fall ill if this continues on, or worse, your wings will lose their glimmer."
"Then let me fall ill! A better reason to not waste my time around those irksome men! Or better: allow my dull wings to waste their interest," she snapped, throwing her hands up in a fit as she stomped towards the entrance. Her fingers turned the key and open swung the heavy oak door with a bang, only to reveal an unbothered Ulric. The butler politely pressed the tray into her hold and nodded. "The suitors will be arriving soon. Eat up. You will need the energy to deal with the 'irksome men'," he said, raising his brows.
Riona sent him a glare, fully aware of his way of toying with her words. "I can do better. I shall isolate myself." The butler rolled his eyes dramatically, for she was behaving worse than his own children when they were still in diapers. "You are acting like a child," he said. Riona stared from under her brows. "You cannot behave like one if you are expected to have one soon," he continued, knowingly adding fuel to her growing flame.
To his precise expectation, her face burned red, instantly. If it was a result of anger or the thought of how intimate she had to be with another butterfly? No one would know.
Lowly she grumbled, her hands gripping the tray sides, "Never bring up this subject again. Pulling the tail of the tree tiger is bound to get your head bit off." The butler stared into her solid unfaltering gaze for a moment. The stare intensified.
Finally, he nodded in understanding and bowed his head. "My apologies your highness. It was wrong of me to poke where it it non of my concern," he muttered (even though it was of his concern). Riona simply relaxed her gaze and turned, yet fury remained bubbling under her pale moth-like skin. "Notify me when the first plague arrives," she ordered with abrupt authority.
Spinning around, she pushed the door shut with her hip and walked to place the tray on her dark wooden desk. She poured herself a useless cup of tea and simply placed it out for decoration. Her senses enjoyed to relish in the aroma of cinnamon and honey, though to bring herself to drink the tea proved to be a challenge. Vanilla tea was a trouble too, even though it was her absolute most-liked.
Her arms folded tightly as she returned her focus to the outside world. Perhaps, she thought, this could be a change. She would have company for once. However this concept was quick to be demolished in her head. She couldn't allow love to blind her —not again at least.
Regretably, the first carriage had the courage to emerge from the tall grass path. Like a tigress awaiting her helpless pray, she awaited the dreadful knock on her door. A false grin was plastered on her face and so she strolled towards the entrance and calmly opened the heavy oak. Of course, Ulric smiled warmly as he announced, "Lord Caspian, Lord Kalhan's brother, has arrived." The butler stepped aside to reveal a tall man with long blond hair. It was a mess of golden waves with noticeable shimmering streaks. His eyes reflected the colour of the shimmering lake: light blue and glittery. His choice of wardrobe was a deeper blue vest over a cream shirt, paired perfectly with his large gleaming wings.
Riona stepped aside, politely allowing him to enter her den. He did so and before Ulric turned away, Riona sent him a brisk pointed look. One that would imply the butler to worry.
Once alone in the study, she turned with the brightest smile. "Tea?" she offered kindly from a new tray. Caspian nodded happily, his bright grin blinding Riona, "That would be much kind, your highness. If I may comment, this is a marvelous study you have. The wood is so warmly hued by the sunlight."
Warm was far from what she felt in that study and the light was only torture; nonetheless, Riona hummed in false agreement as she poured tea into a new cup ever so steadily. "Please, help yourself to the biscuits and pastries." Caspian reached for one and took a bite with delight. Riona motioned him towards the arm chair as she lowered herself on the other. "You don't fancy tea?" He asked looking at the other — now cold — cup on her desk. She shook her head. "Oh, I just don't find cinnamon to my taste," she lied easily.
Caspian sipped at his cup and seemed mesmerized with the taste. "I've studied special blends of tea actually. It is one of my interests," he announced, "I should have brought a few as a gift. How foolish of me."Riona smiled, "That is quite interesting, though I would rather not beat around the bush, Caspian." His brow twitched with slight confusion. Her demeanour changed to one of a serious matter. "Caspian, I do not have the intention to offer my heart. I cannot envision myself to do such an asinine act."
Caspian was perplexed. He slowly set down the cup and leaned back. He scratched his head with an awkward laugh, "I was informed earning your affection will be a stiff task but now I see the reality of it... You simply do not want to offer it at all."
"That is correct," she replied plainly.
"Could I at least ask for a chance?"
"We should not waste each other's time," she stated.
He frowned: "So I have traveled from my land only to be rejected in the first day? That hardly seems fair. If I cannot tempt you with my romance, how about an alliance?"
Riona's expression grew to be one of interest. Her body turned in on the cushioned seat, angling towards the lord. "You have my attention," she mused, her eyes fixed on the nervous man.
"It is clear that you do not fancy a relationship so what about playing along in a false one, where you use the hoax to turn away the other lords."
"Brilliant idea," she smiled, clapping her hands mockingly, " but people will expect a wedding either way and I am not marrying as a part of an alliance. What do you even desire in return?"
"To only return home last with a new accumulated friend."
It seemed too innocent — too easy.
It was her turn to frown and she did so sceptically. Of course, a friendship with the queen could take him far but was she repaired to have some man leech off of her title? Not even the slightest.
"Caspian," she said rather lowly, "You can play your part as a suitor and I will play mine as the hard-to-catch moth queen. Though, keep your offer open. Perhaps it will come in use."
Her father, King Vailant, used to warn her that sitting at the high table was a place for men to play chess against each other. Now, in her study, she felt those words burn in the back of her skull as a reminder that she was playing with dragonflies and pixies. They are only in it for themselves.
She needed to seem interested. Perhaps it would come in use if the suitors were to become too annoying and needed elimination.
Caspian grinned slyly. "I shall look forward to it. We gentlemen do adore challenges."
Riona sent him a glance. Her instincts were uneasy around Caspian. Was he to be trusted or not?
She nodded slowly before she commented,"May your fingertips not burn as you play."