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Eliza hummed and nodded in agreement, continuing to dance for as long as was required of them. Truthfully, it wasn't so bad dancing with Ian, and for a moment she could imagine dancing with him at all events in the future, but she shook that off quicker than she'd ever shook away anything. "So far so good. Surely things can't get worse? Especially if we avoid our mothers," she spoke quietly, her gaze finding her own mother for a moment in the crowd. She looked so pleased to see the couple dancing so happily together. She probably didn't even realize that it was a ruse and that Eliza was still pissed beyond reason. Eliza knew a life with Ian would never work. They would spend their days in misery and faking it with the public until the end of their lives. It did not sound like a princess's dream. - She quit playing in his hair, having finally caught herself and positioned her hands lower on his shoulders. Don't forget he's the enemy, Eliza. He'll leave you cold and lying in the dust at the first opportunity.. She frowned at the thought, frost taking over her demeanor for a few moments. No matter how happy they looked, it wouldn't work between them. - "A nuisance? Ian, you sounded scared as if he'd steal a prize right out from under your nose. Like you were afraid I'd choose to runaway with him or something," she stressed to him, her brows furrowed as she looked up at him. Eliza knew it was something deeper than just the man being a nuisance. If he didn't want to tell her then fine, but she hoped for a bigger picture. Soon the song they were dancing to ended and Eliza let go of him before stepping back and bowing. "Shall we take to the sidelines for a little bit?" She questioned, motioning towards the area of the ballroom where there were refreshments. They'd likely be bombarded by guests, but she needed a break from dancing. Edited at March 21, 2025 10:15 PM by Man's Demise
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Ian frowned. “Your not much to lose. I have my reasons.” He followed Eliza to the side of the ballroom, his attention briefly caught by the intricate details on the walls. But soon, his gaze shifted back to her, his tone turning distant. “And those reasons… are none of your concern. For now.” His eyes wandered across the ballroom, never settling in one place. The silence hung between them like a weight, and Ian shifted uncomfortably. In the distance, he noticed Eliza’s father and his own in deep conversation, no doubt discussing matters of the kingdom. His father gave him a small wave, beckoning him over. “If you’ll excuse me,” Ian said, bowing toward Eliza before quickly pulling away from the crowd. “You were supposed to bring Eliza with you,” his father said, his voice edged with frustration. “Anyway, we were just discussing your coronation. We’ve decided it should be held back at your kingdom.” The words “your kingdom” hit Ian like a cold shock, and he struggled to steady himself. “Y-yes, Father,” he stammered, quickly composing himself. “Good. Now go rescue your soon-to-be bride.” His father gestured to where Eliza stood, surrounded by a small group of young men. Great. Can’t she rescue herself? Ian thought, feeling the frustration bubble up. But with a sigh, he turned and made his way back toward her. He approached the group with quiet authority. “Gentlemen,” he said, “if you’ll excuse me, I must take Princess Eliza back to the dining room. I hear dessert is about to be served.” As the young men quickly dispersed, Ian turned to Eliza, gently grabbing her arm. He said nothing, simply waiting for her to say something about how she could’ve handled the situation herself, or some other ridiculous remark.
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Eliza scoffed, mildly offended but not surprised by his words. If she wasn't much to lose, then he wouldn't mind at all if she eventually busied herself with his lovely cousin. She had no true interest in the man, just as she had no interest in Ian, but if it made Ian sweat a little, she was all for some sweet revenge. "Whatever, Ian," she shook her head, not pressing the matter further. It wasn't worth it anyways. She didn't want to be something to lose to him anyways. - "Gladly. Take your time," she hummed, dipping her head in return before watching him depart, her gaze more of a glare than she had intended it to be. She gave a soft huff before flitting off to find some all too willing men to busy herself with. - The group found her quickly, fawning over the young princess and vying for even an ounce of her attention. She gave them just enough to keep them entertained and hanging on by a teasing thread. From a far she'd be seen giggling and carrying on as the young men told jokes and jabbed at one another to have a better shot at winning her favor. They all knew she was taken, but they seemed to believe that if they entertained her long enough that she might be swayed to marry them instead. - "Princess Eliza, won't you spare a dance for me? You're quite the vision on the dance floor," A tall, blonde haired man crooned to her, offering out a gloved hand around the time that Ian came to retrieve her, making her pout playfully. "Sorry, boys, but it seems my beloved requires my presence once more," she purred, giving a delicate wave goodbye followed by sneaky wink as Ian pulled her away from the now dispersed men. - As he grabbed her arm, even as gently as he did, she lightly swatted his hand away and straightened her posture. "I was just beginning to have fun. I suppose you come back with important news since you bothered to return to me?" She questioned, her voice light despite the clipped nature of her tone. His words still resonated in the back of her mind for some reason. You're not much to lose.. As if he truly had her to begin with. But why did it bother her so damn much? She didn't want Ian and he didn't want her.
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"Don’t lose your cover," he said, his tone sharp and unsatisfied with Eliza’s response of being 'rescued.' His voice carried an edge, but even as the words left his lips, he couldn’t entirely mask the growing frustration within him. "The Coronation is to take place at my kingdom," he continued, his voice trailing off as he felt the weight of responsibility settle over him, like an oppressive cloak. He had tried to maintain the authority in his tone, but he could sense the power slipping, fading bit by bit, like sand through his fingers. His eyes narrowed, his lips twisting into a half-smile, and he briefly looked her up and down before speaking again. "I don’t suppose you'd like the idea of spending the rest of your life in my castle?" The words were a tease, but there was an undercurrent of something more—something that Eliza could perhaps decipher, or perhaps not. For a moment, his expression softened, the teasing faded, and the weight of seriousness returned. "Now, don’t cause trouble," he warned, his voice taking on a more commanding tone. He turned his back on her as he began to walk away, but then, almost as an afterthought, he paused and glanced over his shoulder. "And stop teasing the young lads. It’s painful to watch," he said with a soft sigh, shaking his head, before he disappeared from her view entirely. Every second away from Eliza felt like a breath of fresh air. The tension that had accompanied their interactions, the way her presence seemed to throw him off balance, made his departure feel like a small relief—one he didn’t quite want to admit. It was easier to be alone, to feel in control again, even if just for a little while.
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Eliza, of course, ignored the comment he made about keeping her cover. She was growing quite bored of playing nice and acting like the sweet little princess everyone wanted her to be. She didn't want to play the part and act all nice just to make Ian look good. She couldn't care less how he looked or how he felt about her actions. He'd made it very clear that he didn't care about her either. She stiffened when he revealed that the Coronation would take place in his kingdom. Now she was getting married against her will to her worst enemy and was expected to go into his territory? It would be Hell! - She growled quietly at his tease, giving him a sharp glare before turning her gaze away else where. "I don't much like the idea at all, no. It gives you far too much of the upper hand. At least here I can hide in places that you would never find me when I need a moment of peace," she huffed, her fingernails digging into the palm of her hand as she struggled to remain as calm as she was then, which wasn't very. Eliza hadn't been more than an hour away from her own castle before and had most definitely never spent a night away. The thought of living somewhere else was quite daunting, and rightfully so. - "Don't use that tone with me," she seethed, not at all a fan of the commanding resonance. At least, not in a sense where he seemed to be bossing her around. She would do as she pleased. Her arms crossed over her chest and she shot him a nasty look at his departing comment. Even she tried not to tease or entertain them, they would find her any how to try and receive even a fraction of attention. Having a welcoming and warm aura was both a blessing and a curse, as was the rank of Princess. - Once he left her, Eliza gladly found a corner to relax in, if only for a few moments. Her back was against the wall, her head tilted slightly back as she looked at the grand art work done on the high ceilings of the room. In a single day her life had unraveled dreadfully fast. She knew she could just slip away and find a nook to hide in, but if she did that then half the castle guards would be looking for her and her mother would be raining down upon her with Hell's fury. Regardless, the moment away from Ian had her calming down. Her neutral, kind expression slowly returned, though there was something still annoyed about her demeanor that kept most men from bothering her. Why did fate have to be so cruel to her?
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Realised they most likely didn't have shops in medieval times for weddings but maybe xD - Ian wandered the vast halls of the castle, his eyes scanning the ancient tapestries and towering bookshelves as he made quick notes in his leather-bound journal. He was trying to gather as much information as possible, hoping to uncover some hidden corners of the fortress where he could escape the pressure of his family’s expectations. He hadn’t yet found the library, and the idea of getting lost in its stacks of dusty old books seemed like the perfect respite from everything going on around him. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud voice echoing down the corridor. “Where is your bride?” his mother hollered from somewhere behind him, the sound of her voice making him wince. Ian froze in place, his pen halting mid-sentence as he cursed under his breath. Turning slowly, he found his mother standing in the doorway of one of the rooms he had been examining. She had the same stern, impatient expression she always wore when discussing matters of marriage and the future. “First, she is not my bride yet,” Ian replied, carefully choosing his words. “And second, I was just trying to find the library.” His voice was calm, but internally, his mind was racing for an excuse—anything to distract her from her endless questions about Princess Eliza. “She’s tied up with some personal matters,” he added quickly, hoping that would be enough to appease her. But of course, it wasn’t. His mother’s eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms, clearly not buying the excuse. “Is there something I can do for you, Mother?” he asked, trying to sound polite but feeling his voice crack as he forced the words out. He couldn’t help the unease that bubbled up within him at the thought of being involved in yet another wedding-related task. It felt as though the weight of his fate was settling on his shoulders with every passing moment. “Well, as a matter of fact, you can,” she said, her voice suddenly sweet as she approached him with a gleam in her eye. “Tomorrow, when we go shopping for materials for my wedding outfit, we’d like your presence. To escort the three of us, of course.” She paused, looking at him expectantly. “You’ll help us choose the fabric for the wedding. It’s important, Ian.” Before he could muster a response, she flashed him a grin and turned on her heel, walking away with a swish of her gown. “Don’t be late,” she called over her shoulder, her tone light and dismissive. Ian stood there for a long moment, staring at the spot where his mother had just been. The silence that followed was deafening, and he found himself slumping into one of the heavy chairs nearby. He buried his face in his hands for a moment, unable to suppress a long, drawn-out sigh. “My life is forever over,” he muttered to himself, a dark humor threading through his words. “This is my last day of freedom.” For a while, he sat there in his own thoughts, the weight of his future pressing down on him. He had known this day would come eventually, but the reality of it was still more than he could bear. The idea of being bound to a woman he barely knew, for the sake of duty and tradition, was a fate he had never wanted. But there was no escaping it. His mother had made it clear, and tomorrow would be another step down the road he couldn’t turn back from. After a few minutes of silence, Ian stood up and straightened his tunic, wiping the melancholy from his face. He had to keep moving forward, at least until he could figure out a way to change things. “Got to make the most of it,” he whispered quietly to himself, forcing a small, determined smile. “Make the best of what’s left.” With that, he turned and made his way back to where Eliza was waiting. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but he would try to find a way to hold on to whatever shred of freedom he could.
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After a while of waiting around for Ian to return, Eliza's mother unfortunately came to join her. She had noticed that her daughter's mood had taken a turn for the worst and decided it was a good time to come and press all of her buttons. - "And why aren't you with your dear future husband? You two seemed to be doing so well earlier," she questioned, the fakest of all smiles on her face. Eliza gave her a stern, 'go to hell' look before looked away at the crowd. "I haven't the slightest clue where he has went, mother, and you and I both know that I don't care where he is," she huffed, her arms crossing over her chest.
- Then, she felt her arm being grabbed with a sharp pinch being delivered to the underside. "You best start caring, Eliza. This marriage is the best thing that is going to happen to you and it is the best thing for our kingdom. Do not screw it up. Ian is going to be King, and you will be his Queen. Do you understand?" She questioned, her voice as cold as ice. Eliza could feel her heart pounding in her chest, her stomach flipping and her hands nearly shaking. It was all too much. Too much was expected of her and Ian. She wasn't fit to be a Queen, much less his Queen. She had narrowly avoided taking her parents throne thanks to having a brother, only for them to pair her with the man she hated the most as a power move. - "Eliza.. Eliza, do you understand? Eliza, answer me!" - Her mother's voice rang in the back of her mind, but upon the fourth and final "Eliza!" She finally snapped out of her daze and jerked away from her mother. "Just stop it! Allow me my freedom while I have it!" She snapped, her voice hardly low enough to avoid attracting attention. Her mother looked appalled, shocked that her daughter was acting out in public. What shocked her even more, however, was the way that Eliza darted through to crowd, effectively escaping the party that was occurring. A few murmurs followed in her wake, but once her mother had instructed the music pick up again, the people went on about their conversations. - Eliza didn't slow down even as she was free from the crowd, her hurried footsteps echoing down the stone halls. She couldn't breathe- She needed fresh air, and quiet, and to know that she still had a choice in life, even if she didn't. She didn't stop until she burst through the doors into the garden, the cold air hitting her like a brick wall. - She knew her mother would likely pair up with Ian's mother to have him come find her, but she didn't care. Even a little bit of time was better than none. She let out a shaky breath, holding back the sob that tried to follow. Even though she was a master of hiding and concealing her true emotions, the day finally came down on her and she was slowly but surely breaking. Eliza wandered a little further in, stopping once she was beneath the grand oak tree. Spanish moss hung from its branches, the strands fluttering gracefully in the wind. She leaned against the knotted bark, heaving another soft sigh as she tried to relax.
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Ian walked back out to the hall, the noise and movement of people swirling around him. Everywhere he looked, there were clusters of guests chatting, laughing, and dancing, all oblivious to the storm brewing inside him. His eyes darted across the room, scanning faces, searching for Eliza. "Where did she go?" he muttered under his breath, frustration creeping into his voice. Just then, their mothers appeared, striding toward him with a certain swing in their step, their faces glowing with an infectious energy. Ian couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in suspicion. “What are you two so happy about?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief, as he studied their eager expressions. “We managed to convince your father to change the wedding date,” his mother said, her smile widening as she spoke. “It’s now in three weeks.” Ian froze for a moment, processing the words. A week less didn’t sound like much to anyone else, but to him, it felt like an eternity. When it was the difference between holding onto the last threads of freedom and being bound forever, it was a big deal. “Th… th… three weeks?” he stammered, his voice faltering as panic seeped into his thoughts. He tried to regain control, but it was hard with the weight of the new timeline pressing down on him. “Yep,” his mother said, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Three weeks. So go find your lovely bride-to-be and tell her the glorious news!” She threw her hands up, almost as if dismissing him from the conversation. Ian’s blood boiled. He wasn’t a puppet for his mother’s strings. “I go when I like,” he retorted sharply, stepping forward and trying to assert himself, though the battle to keep his composure was evident in his rigid stance. His eyes locked onto hers, not willing to back down from this silent battle of wills. He glared at her for what felt like an eternity—though it was only a mere ten seconds—before, with an exasperated sigh, he turned and stormed toward the door that led outside. He paused just before stepping out, glancing back to make sure no one was watching. His heart raced, and for a brief moment, he wondered if anyone could sense his agitation. Without a second thought, he slipped through the door, shutting it behind him with a quiet click. The fresh air hit him like a wave, the cool breeze washing over his face and easing the tension that had built up in his chest. It felt like a moment of freedom, a brief escape from the pressure. As he stepped further into the garden, his gaze swept over the lush greenery. His eyes landed on Eliza standing by a towering oak tree, her figure outlined against the sky. He smiled to himself, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he moved toward her, the sound of his footsteps muffled on the grass. With a mischievous grin, he snuck up behind her, his voice booming as he attempted to mimic her father’s deep, authoritative tone. “Nice and peaceful out here, isn’t it?” "Yeah, he doesn’t sound anything like that,” he joked. “But anyway, the wedding’s in three weeks now, and if we don’t stop our mothers, they’ll probably get it down to two.” He gazed up the oak tree, its mighty branches swaying freely in the wind, unbound and unrestricted. For a brief moment, he felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders. The oak tree, standing tall and proud, reminded him of the very thing he longed for: freedom. He sighed, staring at its mighty branches as they danced with the wind, knowing that time was slipping away, and soon they would both be caught in the whirlwind of everything that was about to change.
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(I'm loving this so far~) Eliza cried for a good while, the tears streaming down her face and showing no signs of stopping once they had started. She was just so tired and wanted it all to be over with. She didn't want to do wedding planning or dress making. She wanted to hide away with her books or with that delightful little boy toy of a guard who she teased to no end. Nothing ever would come of them, but it was funny to watch the young guard squirm from being flustered. As a Queen she couldn't do that. As a Queen she would have too many duties to uphold to even have time for herself. Not to mention there would come a day that they were expected to have children. Ugh. - The fresh air was helping the best that it could. At least between that and the silence she could finally breathe again without there being a weight on her shoulders. When she heard that deep, booming voice, however, Eliza nearly jumped from her skin. She might have thought it was her father if she had been more lost in thought, but she identified it to be Ian before she even turned around to face him. "Nice one. You're lucky my first instinct wasn't to hit you for startling me," she rolled her eyes, her expression softening for a brief moment. - She scoffed in disbelief when he told her the wedding was moved to three weeks away. "What does it even matter any more? It's not like either of us will be rid of the other any time soon, so why even care about how far away the wedding is?" She shook her head, furiously wiping at the trail of tears that had still streamed down her neck. "I'm tired of pretending tonight. I pretend so much, and I'm not sure I can keep doing," she admitted, her fingers ghosting over the rough bark as she ranted aimlessly. - "I mean, what can they actually expect from us? The marriage will never work between us, how can our reign prosper?" She questioned rhetorically, nearly making herself cry again. Eliza stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath as she dropped her head into her hands. "I'm not even sure why I care about that. It's not like I want to be in a ruling position anyways." Eliza was slowly but surely spiraling whether Ian could see that or not. She moved closer to the tree and leaned her back against it, biting down on her bottom lip. "I'm sorry.. I know you don't care to hear my problems," she apologied, wiping her cheeks again. - Eliza knew she needed to pull it together. They couldn't stay out there all night, nor did she necessarily want to with Ian, even if she had just had a mini break down in front of him. She didn't like him seeing her so vulnerable, but she also had a feeling that they'd be seeing more and more of each other the longer they were forced to be together. She wasn't sure she was ready for that, and with only three weeks to prepare for a life of being together, she wasn't sure she ever would be. Neither of them deserved that.
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Its getting sooo good!) Ian shifted uncomfortably in front of Eliza, feeling the familiar knots of anxiety tighten in his stomach. Talking to young women had never come easily to him, but now, facing his soon-to-be bride, who was visibly upset, made the situation even more difficult. He could sense her distress, the frustration in her eyes, and it made him uneasy in a way he couldn’t quite explain. “Slow down,” Ian said, trying to steady his nerves. He leaned back against the tree, aiming to find some support, but misjudged the distance. He stumbled backward and hit the ground with a soft thud. Quickly, Ian scrambled to his feet, brushing the dirt off his pants, his face turning a little redder from embarrassment. “Look,” he began, clearing his throat as he finally composed himself. “I didn’t think this whole pretending thing was going to last very long, in fact, I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long,” he paused, hoping the words didn’t sound as harsh as he felt they might. His eyes met hers briefly, and he felt the weight of what he was about to say. He continued, his voice a little more measured. “This will hopefully be the only major event until the wedding, so we won’t have to pretend anymore.” As the words left his mouth, Ian stopped mid-sentence, feeling a shift inside him. He wasn’t supposed to care. He wasn’t supposed to feel any attachment to her, not in the way that others might. But seeing her like this—hurt, vulnerable—stirred something inside him that he couldn’t quite shake. He wasn’t falling for her, no. But there was a part of him that ached for her in a way he hadn’t expected. He sighed, regretting the way his words had come out. He didn’t want to hurt her further. “I really don’t care about your problems,” he said, his voice flat, but there was an edge to it now, a flicker of something deeper. “But I hate seeing you miserable.” There. He’d said it. The words felt strange to him, like he was saying something he hadn’t fully processed himself. For a moment, the air between them thickened, the tension hanging in the space like a storm waiting to break. Ian shifted on his feet, unsure whether to continue. His gaze softened a little, but the vulnerability caught him off guard. “I mean, marriage can’t be that bad, right?” he said, the words coming out with a slight chuckle, though the humor didn’t reach his eyes. Instantly, he regretted it. It was too casual, too dismissive of the reality they both faced. He wanted to take it back, but the damage was already done. Eliza was still standing there, her face unreadable. Ian couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking, what she felt in this moment. She had every right to be angry or hurt, but he wasn’t sure if he could fix this. He wasn’t sure if he even knew how to try, "Lets just go back inside, finish the evening off and forget we tried" he said starting to walk to the house. It took one day for his whole entire life to be turned upside. One day. Not enough time to process.
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