4 — Marriage Proposal

"What am I hearing, Princess Cynthia?" the king demanded, locking eyes with his sister.

Instead of appearing nervous, Cynthia met her brother's gaze and responded nonchalantly, "Duke Dorian and I are no longer engaged."

That statement alone sparked murmurs among the crowd. Their gazes turned sharp, as if they could tear her apart.

Cynthia remained unbothered, standing still and calm as she had been taught from a young age—a noble must never lose their composure, no matter the circumstances. Besides, she was used to such glares.

King Alistair took a deep breath, controlling his anger. What was his sister up to now?

A year ago, she had sent him a letter requesting him to find a suitor for her. He couldn't marry her to someone of lower status, so he arranged a marriage with Duke Dorian, one of the highest-ranked nobles. Now she had broken off the engagement. 

But why?

Only Princess Cynthia could answer that question.

"I am the one who broke off the engagement," Duke Dorian declared proudly walking through the crowd.

Everyone's gaze shifted to the young man as he joined Lady Valentine's side, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her close. 

His eyes fell on Cynthia, hoping to see a spark of envy for once, but it was in vain. Cynthia's expression remained the usual indifferent and composed one.

"Duke Dorian," the king's stern voice caused Dorian to flinch, removing his hand away from his lover and promptly lowering his head in greeting. 

"You didn't greet me, the princess, Duke," Cynthia remarked, side-eyeing him with an evil smirk on her lips.

The brown-haired man bit his tongue to maintain his composure before the other nobles and greeted the princess.

"Why did you break off your betrothal with my sister?" the king asked, clenching his jaw and glaring at the man.

"Your Majesty, I beg your pardon, but your sister is not fit to be a wife. She is not even a proper woman! She has caused trouble at every party she attended! The other day, she grabbed my sword! What woman would behave in such a manner? No man would marry her!" Dorian rebuked the princess, desperately trying to make the king understand his point of view, hoping he would side with him over his sister.

Oh lord!

I knew she was a troublesome woman… but wielding a sword!

He's right; no man will be willing to marry her now.

Perhaps the princess will stay single forever.

And I don't even feel bad for her!

Hearing the faint whispers in his favor, Dorian's worried expression changed to one of relief.

"Is that true?" Alistair's intense gaze shifted to Cynthia, who nodded without attempting to rebut the accusations.

"Alright," Alistair nodded. "And why were you holding this lady in your arms just now?" he demanded, looking down at the young man, who barely reached his chin.

"W-Well… I-I love her," Dorian stammered nervously. The king had never looked at him with such an expression until tonight.

Alistair nodded and returned to his throne. He calmly sat down, observing the puzzled faces of the nobles.

Cynthia tilted her head, wondering what her brother was thinking.

"Duke Dorian, you said my sister will never get married?"

The duke nodded, though confused.

The blonde-haired man on the throne smirked and parted his lips.

"Well, there is someone."

Hearing the king's statement, the crowd fell silent.

"Who, Your Majesty?" an old man in the group mustered the courage to ask.

"Prince Lucian."

Cynthia grimaced. The name seemed familiar, but she couldn't recall where she'd heard it.

"Prince Lucian of Selvarys."

"Your Majesty!" Cynthia shouted, drawing everyone's attention to her.

Alistair raised his hand to stop his sister from speaking further.

"There was one more announcement tonight. I think it's time to reveal the truth," the king sighed.

Cynthia looked at her brother, her worried expression pleading for answers to his odd declarations.

"The king of Selvarys, Valeria Von Gwyndor, has requested a peace treaty between Selvarys and Eldoria. He wants a marriage alliance between Princess Cynthia of Eldoria and Prince Lucian of Selvarys."

A few young ladies in front of Cynthia scoffed.

"Must be nice to be a princess," one of them whispered.

Although Cynthia heard their mockery, she remained composed.

"Let's continue the banquet," Alistair smiled brightly, clapping his hands and signalling the musicians to resume their tune, which had stopped due to the commotion Lady Valentine had caused.

*** 

King Alistair sat in his chair, wearing a dark nightgown loosely tied with a belt, slightly exposing his chest. Through his glasses, he reviewed paperwork that had piled up during his absence.

He had instructed the butler to send the most important documents to someone on the battlefield, but a king's workload never truly diminishes.

"May I come in?" a familiar soft voice asked.

The blonde-haired man smiled and looked up to see his little sister peeking through the door just as she used to when she was younger. 

She was already dressed in a light violet night robe, with a large dark coat wrapped around her slender figure.

"You don't need to ask," Alistair chuckled, gesturing for her to sit in the chair before him.

Cynthia entered her brother's study room. It was neat and clean at first glance, but the desk was cluttered with papers nearly slipping off the edge.

"What brings you here?" Alistair asked once Cynthia had sat down.

"Brother, that proposal. Why didn't I hear about it until now?"

"Are you upset that I didn't tell you?"

Cynthia snorted. 

"Wasn't I supposed to be?"

The king chuckled, confusing Cynthia.

"Why are you laughing?"

"My dear little sister, you don't need to act so grown up."

Cynthia rolled her eyes. 

"Brother, I'm already twenty years old. I'm not little anymore," she said in a firm tone. 

"And I'm thirty. You will always be a child to me, Princess Cynthia," Alistair said, adjusting his glasses as they slid down his nose. "But… you don't have to marry if you don't want to. I will talk to the king and ensure the peace treaty still happens, even without the marriage alliance."

The room fell silent. Cynthia didn't respond for a moment, then a soft chuckle escaped her lips.

Alistair frowned, puzzled by his sister's reaction.

"Why are you laughing?"

"I never refused."

Alistair stared at his sister in a daze. Her expression wasn't one of a young woman fearing marriage or wanting to escape it; rather, it was the determined look of someone ready to accept the proposal.

"But… it's the enemy kingdom! I can't… let you go there alone…" Alistair's heart ached at the thought of sending his sister into the enemy's territory to secure peace and end the war.

"Too many people have died," Cynthia said softly, barely audible. "Too many," she repeated, emphasizing her point.