Chapter 8: A Reluctant Bride
FOUR MONTHS BEFORE THE WEDDING
The sounds of screams and shattering glass echoed down the halls of the palace.
Lady Rowena, the only child of King Roland and Queen Mathilde, was having another tantrum. This time, however, most of the staff and courtiers would agree was not without good reason.
"I can't marry him!" shouted the young woman for the umpteenth time; her voice hoarse from screaming.
"Please calm down, My Dear!" begged her exasperated father as he dodged another flying vase.
"It is a great honor. The Emperor chose you specifically from all of the daughters of all of the vassal kingdoms throughout the Empire."
"I don't care!" she exclaimed and looked about wildly for something else to throw. Unfortunately for her, and fortunately for everyone else, there was nothing else breakable within reach.
Exhausted, she finally flung herself into a seated position on the bed. Breathing heavily, she crossed her arms and bit her bottom lip. "I won't marry him" she said firmly, a petulant pout on her face.
"Don't make a rash decision." Her father said attempting to calm her down.
"What decision? You've already decided for me." She spat angrily.
He sighed. She was very spoiled. It was his own fault.
He gave her everything, despite his wife's reticence. She loved her daughter, but she didn't want him to be so indulgent.
They knew one day that she would be married to form an alliance with another kingdom. Even so, they hadn't dared to hope that it would be the Crown Prince of the Dragorian Empire itself! What an amazing opportunity! Why couldn't this selfish little girl see that?
Then again, he was reluctant to let his precious daughter go. In his mind, she was still far too young to be married although she had just celebrated her twentieth birthday a few months ago.
"You don't care about me!" she accused when he remained silent. Her words were like a thousand daggers stabbing his heart.
"That's not true! You are my life!" he said. "But the Emperor will destroy our entire kingdom if we do not send you as a bride for his son." He pleaded with her. Her parents were beside themselves with worry. They didn't want their only daughter to be sent into the beast's lair. However, they had no choice. They could not disobey the Emperor's command. And, just maybe, she could bring prosperity and glory to their tiny kingdom.
"So, I am to be a sacrifice." She wailed. Her accusations cut him to the bone.
"Don't think of it like that, Dearest." He attempted to placate her.
"The Crown Prince will one day rule the entire Dragorian Empire. They are the empire that rules the world. Our little kingdom will be glorified through you. You will be the savior of your people. You will be an Empress and create a dynasty that will rule the world." He said lost in dreams of power and glory.
"I will not be a brood mare for an ugly prince." She said with finality.
"That is not your sole purpose. Yes, you will be responsible for bearing an heir, if only to consolidate his power and ensure the continuation of his line. But your role is so much more. You will have power and influence. You will be responsible for bringing culture and sophistication to their brutish civilization. You will bring beauty and grace to their nation."
She seemed to consider this angle for a moment. Encouraged, he continued to lay on the compliments describing in great detail all her potential accomplishments.
"You will influence fashion and the Arts across the entire Empire. Artists will compete to paint and sculpt you. Your beauty will be immortalized throughout the Empire. Musicians will compose songs in your honor. Dances and plays will be written solely for your amusement."
He attempted to appeal to her vanity as she did consider herself the epitome of glamour, the embodiment of chicness, and the personification of elegance and style. "Women throughout the Empire will look to you as inspiration and emulate your every fashion choice. You will become an icon of beauty and grace. Your tastes will define what is elegant, classy, and sophisticated."
She paused her tantrum briefly to envision thousands of adoring subjects praising her splendor and magnificence, emulating her every choice, and vying for her attention. She could see their looks of adoration and hear their fawning praise. She basked in their imaginary attentions. She bathed in the imaginary veneration of artists who would celebrate her beauty.
Her father looked at her with a heart filled with hope. But those hopes were dashed all too quickly, when she remembered rumors she had heard about princes and kings.
"But, as an Emperor, he will have hundreds of brides. I will not be an Empress. Only a concubine to be used and discarded for something newer, younger, and prettier. You do not want that for me, do you Daddy?" She pleaded while putting on her best little girl pout.
"Who can compete with you? You are the most beautiful woman in all of the Empire. No one can sing as well as you. Or dance. Or recite poetry. You are the most accomplished young woman from the nobility of any vassal state. What man could refuse you or choose another above you?" He genuinely believed she was the most exceptional woman in the world. Well, second to her mother of course. But he was not about to tell her that.
"And once you give birth to his heirs, your position is secured. No matter how many women come after you, you will have been the first and most important. And when your son ascends the throne, you will be the Empress Dowager and enjoy even greater status and influence.
She remained unconvinced. "Surely, you can find a way to appease the Emperor that does not involve my body." She said with some disgust at the thought of having to bed a man she had never met. "Offer him your prized horses or treasured art collection." She suggested.
"The Emperor has all the stuff he desires. He only wants his son to produce an heir to continue his dynasty." He muttered.
"I am to be just another possession? Only useful so long as I can bear children?" she accused.
He was at a loss. He could not think of any other way to coax her. So, he went with another approach. If appealing to her vanity did not work, then, perhaps, appealing to her sense of duty and filial piety would.
"I am so sorry, My Darling. But you must think of what is good for the kingdom. We cannot afford to anger the Emperor." He entreated. "He has left us alone all these years because we never fail to offer the required tribute. In fact, we offer more than what is required to show our fealty. We've never given them cause to doubt our allegiance. And we cannot afford to do so now."
Frustrated that her ploys and protestations did not work, she tried another tactic. "But Daddy" she whined sweetly. "You are the smartest, bravest, and wisest ruler. Surely, with all of your cleverness you can think of a way to save your kingdom as well as your only daughter."
He sighed heavily. He really could not refuse her anything.
"Okay. You win, Sweetheart." He said soothingly. "Rest assured; Daddy will try his best."
She hugged him and kissed his cheek.
"I know you can do it, Daddy." She said, utter confidence, adoration, and devotion shining in her liquid eyes.