A Fragile Alliance; The First Condition

The grand hallways of the Royal Grimoire Palace stretched before them, adorned with intricate tapestries and shimmering chandeliers that cast an otherworldly glow. King Alaric and Queen Celestia, engrossed in conversation with King Oberon and Queen Seraphina, led the way, leaving Prince Ymir and Princess Lilith to follow at a distance.

Ymir, undeterred by Lilith's previous coldness, nervously attempted to engage her in small talk. "Princess, um, have you ever seen a library like the one we have here? It's quite extensive, with books from every corner of Grimoire."

Lilith, with an icy glare, shot him down. "I'm not here for a literary tour, Prince. My purpose is more significant than browsing your bookshelves."

Undeterred by her sharp response, Ymir continued to walk a few paces behind her. He stole glances at Lilith, noticing the dark allure that surrounded her. From his point of view, she was a vision of captivating elegance and mystery. Her dark beauty, with flowing raven hair and eyes that held a hint of a storm, seemed to weave a spell of enchantment. Yet, he also sensed an undeniable air of hostility that made her all the more intriguing.

Despite the distance and Lilith's dismissive attitude, Ymir persisted in his attempts at conversation. "The architecture of the palace is quite remarkable, don't you think? The artisans in Grimoire are known for their intricate designs."

Lilith, without breaking her stride, shot him another cutting look. "I don't care about the architecture, Prince. Save your enthusiasm for someone who appreciates it."

As they continued through the opulent hallways, Ymir couldn't help but admire Lilith's resilience. Her defiance, though delivered with a cold edge, only heightened her allure. He noted the intricate details of her attire, the way her movements seemed to carry a silent strength, and the subtle grace that belied her sharp words.

For Lilith, however, Ymir's attempts at conversation and his pretty exterior did little to sway her. The dark beauty that surrounded her was not just a reflection in the mirrors and tapestries adorning the palace walls but a looming reminder of the political entanglements and forced alliances that awaited her.

Ymir, determined but increasingly desperate, tried once again to engage Lilith in conversation. "Princess Lilith, have you ever seen a moonlit garden? We have one here that's truly breathtaking. The flowers, they shimmer like stars, and there's an ethereal quality to the air. Quite romantic, don't you think?"

Lilith, unimpressed and with a dismissive glance, replied, "Prince Ymir, I don't have time for moonlit gardens or their alleged romantic qualities. Let's focus on the matters at hand, shall we?"

Undeterred, Ymir persisted, his desperation evident in his voice. "Ah, Princess, did you know we have a tradition here? Couples often carve their initials into the ancient tree in the palace courtyard. It's said to bring good fortune to the union. Perhaps we could—"

Lilith cut him off with a sharp tone, "Prince Ymir, I have no interest in etching our initials into a tree or partaking in your quaint traditions. Focus on the task at hand, and spare me from these trivialities."

Despite her rebuffs, Ymir's attempts at conversation grew more absurd as he struggled to find common ground. "Princess Lilith, have you ever considered the cultural significance of enchanted teacups? They're quite fascinating, really. The way they change colors based on the emotional state of the drinker. Wouldn't it be amusing to—"

Lilith interrupted him with a raised eyebrow, her patience wearing thin. "Prince Ymir, I suggest you save your enchanting teacups for a more receptive audience. My emotional state is none of your concern, and this conversation is proving to be an exercise in futility."

As they continued through the opulent hallways, Ymir's attempts at conversation grew increasingly desperate and absurd. "Princess Lilith, have you ever pondered the philosophical implications of talking unicorns? I met one the other day, and it had some profound thoughts on the nature of destiny. Perhaps we could invite it to our wedding—"

Lilith shot him a bewildered look. "Prince Ymir, I fail to see how talking unicorns and philosophical discussions have any relevance to our impending union. Let's stick to matters that actually concern the kingdom."

Ymir, however, pressed on, determined to find a topic that might catch Lilith's attention. "Princess, do you have a favorite type of cheese? I find that the choices one makes in cheese can reveal a lot about a person's character. I, for one, am quite partial to gouda."

Lilith sighed, her patience waning. "Prince Ymir, my preferences in cheese are inconsequential to the task at hand. I suggest you focus on matters of substance rather than dairy products."

As they continued through the opulent halls, Ymir's comments grew more and more ridiculous, each one attempting to inject levity into their strained interaction. "Princess, have you ever considered the benefits of royal karaoke nights? I believe they could foster a sense of unity among the court. Imagine us, singing duets in the moonlit courtyard—"

Fed up with his whimsical suggestions, Lilith abruptly turned around, her eyes flashing with fury. "Prince Ymir, this is not the time for your absurd fantasies! We have a kingdom to consider, not indulge in karaoke frivolities. Focus on the task at hand and refrain from suggesting such foolishness."

Ymir, taken aback by her sudden outburst, faltered for a moment before nodding meekly.

Queen Celestia's voice cut through the air like a decree as she directed Lilith and Ymir to stroll through the enchanting gardens of the Royal Grimoire Palace. "Lilith, Ymir, I believe a peaceful walk through the gardens will provide an excellent opportunity for you to get acquainted. Strengthening the bonds between our kingdoms is of utmost importance."

Lilith's response was a bitter agreement, her inner turmoil masked by a façade of compliance. Ymir, now somewhat deterred and noticeably timid, offered a meek nod in response to the queen's directive.

As they stepped into the lush greenery of the palace gardens, a heavy silence settled between them. The delicate fragrance of blooming flowers and the soft rustling of leaves couldn't disguise the tension that hung in the air.

Lilith walked briskly, her steps purposeful, while Ymir followed quietly behind, almost like a shadow. He observed her every move, her expression, and the subtle nuances that hinted at the storm brewing beneath her composed exterior.

Meanwhile, Lilith's mind was a tempest of conflicting emotions. Anger, resentment, and bitterness churned within her as she navigated the garden paths. The forced alliance, the expectations thrust upon her, and the constant reminders of her lack of agency in this situation fueled her internal fury.

As they strolled through the picturesque setting, Lilith's thoughts raced. She couldn't fathom the audacity of their parents, orchestrating this charade of togetherness. Each step she took resonated with suppressed frustration, and the petals that fell from the blossoms seemed to mirror the pieces of control slipping through her fingers.

Ymir, sensing the palpable tension, chose to keep his distance, not daring to disrupt Lilith's brooding thoughts. He observed her from afar, the way her fingers clenched and unclenched, the tightness in her jaw, and the stormy glint in her eyes.

Lilith, seemingly lost in the labyrinth of her own discontent, found herself drawn to a secluded corner of the garden. There, beneath the shade of an ancient tree, she halted abruptly, her breaths measured but heavy with the weight of her emotions.

Ymir, unsure whether to approach or retreat further, hovered at a distance. The oppressive silence urged him to break it, yet the fierce aura emanating from Lilith held him back.

With a deep breath, Lilith finally spoke, her voice a controlled whisper that carried the weight of a brewing storm. "Prince Ymir, let's make one thing clear. This... union forced upon us is nothing more than a charade. I will not be manipulated, and I certainly won't play the part of a docile bride. You should be well aware of this."

Ymir, his meekness momentarily shattered by her cutting words, nodded nervously, his eyes reflecting a mix of fear and understanding.

Lilith, beneath the ancient tree, broke the tense silence with a deliberate breath. "Prince Ymir," she began, her voice carrying a note of authority, "there are conditions to this arrangement, and you would do well to heed them."

Ymir, who had been quietly observing from a distance, shuffled nervously and took a tentative step closer, his eyes betraying a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

"First," Lilith stated firmly, "our union will remain a facade. There will be no consummation of this marriage. We shall play the roles expected of us, but the intimacy between us will be nothing more than a performance for the court. We will not consummate."

Ymir's shock was palpable. His eyes widened, and he struggled to find words, finally asking, "But... why?"

Lilith, unyielding, met his gaze with a steely resolve. "Because I will not surrender my autonomy in this matter. Moreover, I have no desire to risk the complications of pregnancy, and I harbor no inclination for intimacy with a man. Consider it a condition that ensures the preservation of both our dignities."

Ymir, still taken aback, searched her eyes for an explanation. Lilith continued, "This marriage is a political alliance, not a personal connection. By keeping this aspect of our relationship staged, we maintain control over our own lives and destinies."

A heavy silence hung between them, the weight of Lilith's condition settling on the garden like an unspoken challenge.

Lilith's firm declaration about their non-consummation left Ymir visibly nervous, his earlier shock now mingled with uncertainty. He took another step forward, hesitating before voicing his concern.

"Princess Lilith," Ymir began, his voice betraying a nervous tremor, "isn't it the duty of a queen to bear an heir? It's crucial for the continuity of the royal line."

Lilith's eyes flashed with anger at his question. "Prince Ymir," she retorted, her tone sharp, "the duty to bear an heir can be fulfilled through various means. If you're concerned about the royal succession, have an heir through one of your concubines. I will not be treated as a mere vessel or a baby machine."

Ymir, taken aback by Lilith's fierce response, stammered, "I-I didn't mean to imply—"

Lilith cut him off, her frustration evident. "This is not negotiable. Our union is a political alliance, and my autonomy will not be sacrificed for the sake of archaic expectations. You must understand that, Prince Ymir."

Ymir, still visibly nervous and now somewhat subdued by Lilith's stern stance, nodded meekly. "I... I understand, Princess Lilith. If that is your condition, I shall respect it."

Lilith, though unyielding, could sense the vulnerability in Ymir's acquiescence. He looked at her with a mix of understanding and trepidation. Seizing the opportunity to clarify, Ymir hesitantly asked, "Does this mean... you want no intimacy ever? Not even a kiss?"

Lilith's expression remained resolute, but a flicker of complexity crossed her eyes. "Our union will remain a facade, Prince Ymir. Intimacy, even in the form of a kiss, is not part of this arrangement. The boundaries are set for a reason, and I expect them to be respected."

Ymir, his demeanor a blend of meekness and sadness, clarified with a tone of uncertainty, "Princess Lilith, does this mean... not even holding hands? What about at our wedding? Will we not kiss, as couples normally do upon marriage?"

Lilith maintained her stern expression, but a glimmer of sympathy softened her gaze. "Our everyday interactions, including physical closeness, will be limited, Prince Ymir. However, at our wedding, we will make an exception. It's a public event, and we need to keep up the facade of a close relationship for the court and the people. A kiss will be a part of that performance."

Ymir's eyes betrayed a mix of sadness and relief at the concession, understanding the necessity of maintaining appearances.