The remaining days before their journey to the Midlands were a whirlwind of preparation for Alexandra. She dedicated herself entirely to perfecting her sword dancing, pouring every ounce of passion and focus into her practice. Despite her claims of not wanting to marry, her determination to excel hinted at a deeper desire—perhaps to catch the Crown Prince's eye. It was ironic, given how much she resisted the idea of marriage in the first place.
The twins visited often, brightening the days with their chatter, particularly Cleo, whose boundless energy and endless stories never failed to entertain. Now, it was Sunday evening. The sun had set, but the moon had yet to rise, casting the world in a deep twilight.
Alexandra was busy packing the items she deemed essential: her chemises, sanitary napkins, and jewelry, followed by her nightwear, a selection of clothing, and shoes. Finally, she picked up the swords—the ones Austin had bought for her—and placed them carefully inside the luggage. After hours of preparing, she flopped onto her bed, exhausted.
Through the open window, Alexandra gazed out into the dark night, her thoughts wandering. She wondered whether the beds in the tents that the king had set up for the carnival would be as soft as hers. "A carnival right after his return? They won't even give him time to rest?" she mused aloud. She had never seen the prince, nor did she know what he looked like. The only whispers she'd heard described him as having dark hair and flaming gold eyes. A mystery, a distant figure wrapped in legends. She sighed deeply.
Before she knew it, sleep overtook her, without her even bothering to have dinner. She awoke the next morning to the sound of birds singing on her window pane. She sat up groggily, realizing she had fallen asleep fully dressed, even with her jewelry on. "What is wrong with you, Alexandra?" she muttered, shaking her head at herself.
Her heart pounded strangely, as if anticipating something momentous, though it wasn't yet the day of the carnival. She rose from bed and headed to the bathroom, cleaning her teeth with twigs and rinsing with fresh water from the faucet. After freshening up, she descended the stairs to the dining room, where her father sat at the head of the table and her mother on his right. Alexandra took her usual seat on the left.
"Good morning, Papa, Mama," she greeted them politely.
"Morning, my angel. How did you sleep?" her father asked with a warm smile. Alfred Carmarthen, with his light brown hair now streaked with gray and his ocean-blue eyes, still had the look of a man who had once been strikingly handsome. Though Alexandra didn't share many of his features, there was still an undeniable resemblance.
"It was good, Papa," she smiled back.
"And how are you feeling today?" Brione inquired, her tone gentle. She understood the weight of the situation her daughter was in—being offered up for marriage wasn't easy for any young woman, especially under the circumstances.
"I'm nervous, but it's fine," Alexandra replied, putting on a brave face. "What time are we leaving, Mama?"
The maids had just set down their breakfast, and they began eating as Brione answered. "By the hour of three in the afternoon. You'll need time to familiarize yourself with the other dukes' sons and daughters before the carnival starts. It's a pity Ryanair couldn't be here," she sighed, thinking of her eldest son who was away on business in the North.
"A pity indeed," Alfred added. "But he's well looked after with Aunt Paloma and her children. You should write to him, my pumpkin."
Alexandra nodded. She had already planned on writing to her brother after the carnival. Ryanair had always been her confidant, and she missed him dearly.
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The day passed slowly for Alexandra. Most of her time was spent in her room, trying to calm her nerves as the anticipation of the journey to the Midlands built within her. By the time the clock struck three, the household was a flurry of activity as servants came to help pack the last of their belongings. Alexandra's father was already in the Midlands, attending to his duties as Duke, leaving her and Brione to make the journey together.
Alexandra bid farewell to the maids she was close with before stepping into the grand carriage. Her mother lingered outside for a moment, speaking with Jarr, the butler.
"Take care of the mansion in my absence, Jarr," Brione instructed. "Ensure the household runs smoothly. There are enough provisions until we return."
Jarr, a young but responsible man, bowed. "Of course, my Lady."
After Brione finished her instructions, she joined Alexandra in the carriage, settling in beside her daughter. The coachman urged the horses forward, and soon, they were on their way.
As the carriage rumbled down the road, Alexandra stared out the window, watching the dense forest of Ylzia pass by in a blur of green and gold. Her thoughts, however, were elsewhere. "Mama…" she began hesitantly, breaking the silence, "What if the prince chooses me? Will I get to come back home?"
Brione smiled softly. "Of course, dear. You'll need to return to prepare for the wedding." She noticed the change in Alexandra. Her daughter, who once resisted the idea of marriage to the prince, seemed more accepting of it now.
The ride to the Midlands was long, taking over an hour. Alexandra dozed off along the way, her head resting on her mother's shoulder. Brione gazed down at her daughter, stroking her hair gently. She couldn't help but wonder what the future held. If the prince chose Alexandra, it would elevate their family further, but it also meant that her daughter would be thrust into the dangerous world of court intrigue. Yet Brione wasn't afraid. The Crown Prince was no ordinary ruler, and her Alexandra was no ordinary girl.