Chapter 2: Chapter 1 - Agenda
Twenty years later. . .
"What if he doesn't like me, Anne?"
The young girl's cynical statement earned a sigh from the maid, who's about her age, as she brushed her wavy, silver hair that flows a few inches below her hips. Her purple eyes were devoid of glimmer, a fact she herself is well aware of, for her reflection in the vanity mirror told her so.
"Who wouldn't, my lady? I've been to many places, but I've never seen a beauty like yours." The maid's words were freshly composed by her heart, with pure intentions as the catalyst. However, for the despondent lady, not a single word of courage could cleanse the negativity in her — not unless he himself confirmed her wrong.
"It's not always about that. I wish it wasn't," she mumbled to herself.
Just exactly when the maid's hands left her hair, considering it done, another servant came in.
"The carriage has been prepared; madame is waiting for you outside, young lady," she divulged.
"I'll be there."
***
The girl stepped out of the afternoon sun with youthful elegance. She raised a hand to block the glare of the sun, but when her vision landed on a familiar figure, a smile plastered on her face, and she hurriedly ran. Her light summer dress danced with the wind's motion.
"Mother!" She excitedly called.
"Careful, Lucille, you'll ruin your dress," the madame reminded her in a gentle tone, and she proceeded to tuck her hair behind her ears.
"Hee hee," she giggled. "I'll be more careful now."
The sweet exchange between the two did not linger for a longer time as a visitor made his entrance.
John Carter, the duke's most trusted confidante and business partner, is a man in his mid-50s. With a body built like a barrel of wine, a tall hat covering the portion of his head that's devoid of hair, and a monocle framing his eyes, anyone could stereotypically discern his line of work. . and character, possibly.
He smiled at the sight of the well-dressed women facing him. "If it isn't our lovely Lucille and the ever-gorgeous Madame Matthews,"
"Oh, Mister Carter. You came just right in time. I'll escort you to my husband's study; he's been waiting for you." The madame took the liberty of greeting him first, gesturing him to enter the mansion.
"A pleasant afternoon, Mr. Carter," Lucille said with a welcoming smile.
"Likewise, my lady," the man said, taking off his hat and initiating a bow.
"I'll leave Sir Thomas to escort you. Have a safe trip, sweetheart."
Lucille waved her final farewell as she stepped up to the carriage.
Despite her mother's words of affirmation, she could not help but rekindle the tension that today's endeavor had been giving her for days.
After years of unfathomable delays in their meeting, it is yet another chance for her to face her fiancée.
***
"Now that I think about it, you two look quite alike. Are you sure she's not a child from one of the prostitutes you slept with?" Mister Carter's hysterical laugh was interrupted by a wheezing cough, earning a frown from the duke, who's seated adjacent to him.
As much as the old man's behavior displeases him, he simply cannot dismiss his presence — an unfortunate thing if you ask him. Such is the demand of his agenda; he cannot instantly dispose of anyone, although his power allows him to, nor could he let anyone join him that easily. With all things considered, Mr. Carter is the only one he could trust. Moreover, having many people within his grasp would be of great utility, but limiting it would be safer.
"Well, that could be a possibility, but it doesn't matter anymore. Won't that be advantageous for us, though? No one would suspect a thing; even my wife thinks the girl is hers."
The old man chuckled, shaking his head sideways in sarcastic disbelief. "You really are a sly fox, my Lord."
***
Lucille has already lost count of how many times she checked the floor clock a few meters away from her. To be exact, it has been two and a half hours since she arrived at the palace. The smile that covers her boredom and persistent yawn is gradually fading. The worst thing is, she could not just let it be, for the king himself has offered his attendance in the prince's absence.
"Should I call for another batch of desserts, Lady Matthews?"
The king's kind attempt to ease her seemingly futile waiting met a polite dismissal from the lady.
"That would be delightful, Your Highness, but I'm afraid I've already consumed so much," she replied with a gentle smile.
Deep down, the King feels sincere empathy for her and raging anger for his son, who has been avoiding and ignoring his fiancé since the very beginning. Although he understands the frustration of having your fate predetermined since birth, there must be no valid reason for him to treat her with such cruelty.
Once again, the room was filled with silence and loud awkwardness until the door opened, wherein an agitated servant came in.
She rushed towards the king's side following a display of courtesy. "Pardon my intrusion, Your Highness, but the Prince is nowhere to be found," she whispered into his ear.
Lucille could not discern what the message was, but she figured it was concerning enough for the King's eyes to dilate intensely.
"What!?" He instinctively pressed his lips as he realized how loud his scream was and immediately shifted into a softer voice, frustration still evident. "That fool is really testing my patience. Go order the soldiers to look for him, but do not let the Matthews know yet."
"Got it, Your Highness," the servant remarked and left.
Watching the king massage the sides of his head, Lucille sensed what the situation could be. "Please excuse my impudence, but is the prince not coming, Your Highness?"
"He is! Hahaha, of course. He's just... why don't we have a tour around the palace while waiting for him? I'm sure Lady Lucille would love to; it'll be her home soon, anyway. Hahaha."
"I would love to, Your Highness."
***
"He didn't come."
The disheartened lady forced a smile and took a sip of tea. To her companion's displeasure, she slammed her palms into the table and stooped, her extreme fury plastered on her face.
"What!? Argh, the rumors really are accurate. That prince is a good-for-nothing, boastful, and spineless bastard who doesn't care about everyone else! I thought being married off to the royalties was the best thing one could ever attain, but it turns out awful for you. Oh, my poor Lucille." Her expression softened as she remembered how terrible her friend's experience with her fiancé has always been.
"It's fine, Julie. We're both forced into this, after all. So I understand how he feels. I only went there to send my coming of age ceremony invitations, oh, and here's for you." Lucille handed her a wax-sealed envelope.
As if her feeling of indignation had subsided, Julie went back to being seated elegantly. "My my. I'm looking forward to it! Anyway, he's of no right to put you in such an embarrassing situation, Lucille!"
"It's no big deal, I swear. I don't think I'd get to face him properly earlier, though. My hands were sweating and trembling, and I cannot compose myself," she reassured her.
"That reminds me, you haven't the slightest idea of how he looks, right?"
That actually made her dig into her memories, but she was unable to recall anything.
"I don't. His portraits were removed from all over the palace, I heard one servant say."
"Hmmm. That's unfair; your portrait was sent to him beforehand. Oh! What if he's done something bad to you in the past and now he's avoiding you!?"
"I don't recall anything horrible a stranger did to me."
***
Meanwhile in the palace, a tall, well-built young man walks the dark hallway of the palace, with only the radiance of the crescent-shaped moon illuminating one side of his face.
"What excuse have you stored in your pocket this time, Eros?"
The young man took a halt as the King, his father, spoke from behind.
He took a deep sigh and spoke. "I have no spare time to spend on such a trivial matter, Your Highness."
Despite his pre-existing exasperation, intensified by his son's displeasing answer, the King approached him without letting those feelings get ahead of him.
"She left this for you. Her coming-of-age ceremony will be held next week, which means your marriage is fast approaching."
"Do as you please. I have more important things to focus on." He grabbed the envelope and proceeded with his walk.
***
Eros rested his back on the chair while his legs were atop the table in his study. Scanning through the paper contained within the envelope, he spoke, "Stephen Matthews, I must expose his crimes before he could bind me with that wretched daughter of his. How's the investigation going? We're running out of time."
Before him stood his loyal retainer, George, a young man only a few years older than he is.
He handed him a pile of papers. "Here's the latest report, your highness."
"Hmm. I must visit their hideout myself." Eros' eyes squinted as he examined the documents.
"But, your highness, you might not make it to the lady's coming of age ceremony."
The annoyed prince rolled his eyes. "That doesn't concern me at the very least, George. You should know better than that."
George, on the other hand, could not do anything but scratch his head. "It's not about the lady, but her father, your highness. I'm pretty sure you ignoring her daughter is not unknown to him. What if he suspects a thing?"
"Then let him come to me. I'm nowhere as cowardly as my father."
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