Page 62 of Witch’s Ruin

“It will do.”

He walked off, ignoring Trudy’s small gasp in his wake. A few seconds later, her scrambling feet caught up. He stopped at the displays of fabric swatches. A female stood, overseeing the arrangements of wedding colors.

“Your Highness. It is an honor. I have selected several combinations that will make a fine event, showcasing the romance of—”

“There. That one. But remove the purple.” He motioned towards a selection at the end.

“But that’s—” Trudy’s surprised voice.

“Black and white. I’m aware.”

“But—”

“That one,” he said again through gritted teeth, this time picking up the color swatches of silk, pulling the purple free, then handing what remained to the female before him. She gazed at it open-mouthed. He walked away before anyone could protest—not that they would.

The next table—centerpieces. He picked the ugliest one, making modifications to it until it looked altogether disappointing, removing the little flowers until there was only a single white sprig. He handed it to the designer.

“Aleksander,” Trudy hissed, her face turning splotchy. She whispered an apology to the centerpiece designer before racing after him. “Aleksander, stop this.”

“You will address me as Your Highness,” he said, turning his gaze upon her. They weren’t married, and he despised hearing that name. He strode forward and stopped at the next table. Flower bouquets. “None of these are suitable,” he said to the florist, making very little show in looking them over.

“You’re…Your Highness!” Trudy demanded, lifting her voice this time. He finally stopped, took a good look at her face. Frustrated tears glittered in her eyes. He studied her a moment, then took a deep breath. “Please,” she added.

Something in his chest tightened.

He sighed, turning to the occupants in the room. “Leave us. All of you.” Their gulps were audible, but the entire planning staff rushed away.

“Is this about earlier?” she demanded, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “I didn’t mean to…to…see that. I understand that this marriage, that we, that you will be king and are entitled to bed whomever you wish. That this is just a formality.”

His breaths came faster and faster, the severity of the situation crashing down around him. It was too much. He’d done everything Mina had asked of him. He’d played her game, stringing this poor woman along to appease his father. Here she stood, helpless, sputtering, staring at him without a notion of what she was tangled up in.

Guilt dropped into his belly.

He took a deep breath and said, “Surely you know there will be no wedding.”

Her mouth snapped shut before her brow furrowed. “Is this…is this about your lady witch? Your father said that she would cooperate. I understand if you love her, but we—”

“No, Lady Holland.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose, tilting his head back. It was entirely unfair, all of this. And Trudy Holland, as irritating as she was, was innocent. “Let me make something very clear. I love Mina more than I love anything in this world. I would die for her—a thousand times over. I would burn the entire fucking world to see her happy.” Trudy Holland’s eyes rounded, still glittering with unshed tears. “There will be no wedding.”

“But…but I’ve been waiting. Ten years, since the arrangements were made. I waited for you,” she managed.

He winced, closing his eyes. “Whatever my father promised you, was not his to promise. Lady Holland, you deserve someone who can love you, cherish you. The fact that you are okay with this,” he waved a hand to encompass the room, “while simultaneously giving me permission to take lovers, is not acceptable. Can you not see that? I am not the person for you.”

“This is a royal wedding,” she said, chest rising and falling. “I never deluded myself that love would be part of it.”

“Then you are cheating yourself.”

“But—but we are to be married. Your father made the announcement to the entire court. You…you have gone along with it, agreed upon a date, everything.”

He sighed, looking her over. “That was unfair of me. I will speak to my father about it, if I must.”

Her face changed. A low, deranged laugh bubbled up in her chest. “Very well. But I will say this. Your father will not be quick to relinquish the agreement, not when my father’s Nebrine mines are in question.”

He hid his surprise and nodded.

Trudy Holland gave him a final look and departed, leaving him alone in a room filled with the reminder of what he’d just done.

“Fuck!” he hissed, looking down at the flower bouquets before him. He growled, and in a moment of weakness, struck out, sweeping them from the table. Vases shattered. Water spilled across the floor. “Fuck!” he shouted, this time, digging his fingers into his hair.