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51
THEO
The morning sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. Emilie’s big interview day had arrived, and I felt a mix of excitement and anticipation for her. As I lay in bed, I couldn’t shake the smile that had taken residence on my face. The past few days with Emilie had been nothing short of amazing, and I was eagerly looking forward to our future together.
I was going to miss her but knew I would see her in a week. I could handle a week without her because I knew we were going to have a lifetime together. This was one time I was happy for the traditions of Wed season. Typically, once the match was confirmed and there was a proposal, the weddings tended to happen quickly. I was pretty sure that was to avoid any chance of a scandal arising or someone changing their mind.
I knew I wasn’t going to change my mind. I was committed to making a marriage to Emilie work. We were good together. I knew I made her happy and she sure as hell made me happy.
I got up and started to get ready for the day, feeling a surge of energy. I was more convinced than ever that she was the one I wanted to spend my life with, and I couldn’t wait to propose to her when it was time. I put on one of my best suits. I had been informed yesterday I would be in the interview with her but I wasn’t expected to say much.
I was just the arm candy. I was cool with that.
Downstairs, my family had gathered to say goodbye to Emilie. They had grown fond of her during her stay, and I knew they were excited about our future together. The Ashford family was known for its strong bonds and deep sense of connection, and I could see that Emilie had felt that during her time with us. She was one of us.
“Are you sad?” Rose asked.
“Nah,” I said, shrugging. “I’ll see her in a week.”
“We could move our plans up,” Dad offered.
“She has to be in Norway,” I said. “I’d rather cool my jets here than in England.”
Emilie came into the kitchen with Astrid behind her. As usual, she was looking beautiful, and I couldn’t help but smile when our eyes met. She was dressed in a black dress suit with her hair left down. She had done her makeup for the television cameras that would be on her soon.
“Thank you all for such a warm welcome,” she said as she approached my family. She hugged each of them.
We got in the car and I could see the stiffness in her shoulders. She was nervous. “You’ve got this, Emilie. You’ll do great in the interview.”
She returned my smile, a hint of nervousness in her eyes. “Thank you, Theo. Your support is important to me.”
On the drive to her interview, I couldn’t help but admire her strength and determination. She sat perfectly straight with her chin raised, looking very regal. She was beautiful, but I preferred the chill Emilie.
We walked into the studio. She kept her hands at her sides, sending a clear message. I understood she needed to present the perfect, proper image. “You’ve got this, Emilie. Just be yourself, and they’ll see how amazing you are.”
“I will do my best,” she murmured.
We were sat on a couch together. She made sure there was an acceptable distance between us. I attempted to reach for her hand, wanting to offer her support and reassurance, but she pulled away. Her demeanor changed. Confusion and concern settled in as I watched her transform from the Emilie I had grown so close to in the past few days to the woman I met at the beginning of the season.
The interview began, and it became increasingly clear that Emilie was adopting a different persona, one that mirrored the cold, type-A attitude she had displayed at the beginning of our match. My heart sank as I heard her speak, her words laced with a detached and calculated tone.
“This marriage will undoubtedly benefit my country,” Emilie stated firmly, her gaze fixed on the interviewer. “It’s crucial for our economic stability and political influence. This is more of a business deal than a marriage, but it’s a commitment I am prepared to honor for the sake of my country’s prosperity. It’s what is expected of someone in my position.”
“Is it true the two of you had never met?” the interviewer asked with a smirk on her face. “Is that still done?”
“It is,” Emilie said, nodding. “In our world, wealth and titles are guaranteed with the right marriages.”
As Emilie continued speaking, I felt a sense of disappointment. This was not the woman I had grown to admire. The cold Emilie had returned, and it was as if the woman I had connected with had never existed. I understood the weight of her position and the expectations placed upon her, but it was difficult to watch her abandon her true self in order to fit into a role that society had deemed necessary.
“Do you have the choice not to go through with the marriage?” the interviewer looked at Emilie and then me.
I wasn’t interested in saying anything. I looked at Emilie and waited to see what she would say. Her eyes held a hint of sadness, but she remained resolute in her portrayal of our match.
Emilie took a deep breath before answering the interviewer’s question. “As a member of the royal family, my choices are limited. I understand the importance of my duty to my country, and this marriage is a part of that duty. However, I do have a choice in how I approach my responsibilities, and I am choosing to honor this commitment with respect and dignity.”
A robot could have been talking and I wouldn’t know the difference.
“What about you, Mr. Ashford? Is this marriage something you can reject?”
