Chapter Two

Freddy

Six months earlier...

I'm getting married today.

The words seemed almost surreal, despite the years of betrothal and months of planning that had finally led to this day. Freddy shook his head and laughed at himself in the mirror for his wide-eyed wonder. He gave one final inspection to his gray jacket and straightened the coral cravat at his throat.

Where is Hadrian? I could use a dose of his blunt realism right about now.

A soft knock at his door turned his attention from the mirror, and a moment later, his mother entered. Stately, graceful, and regal, Clarice was everything in his mind that a queen should be. She floated through the door in a pale blue dress with tight sleeves and a long, flowing skirt. Pearls and diamonds sparkled in the tiara atop her graying head.

"You look beautiful, Mother." Freddy took her outstretched hands and bent down to kiss her cheek. "If you're not careful, you'll outshine the bride."

Clarice gave him a knowing look. "As if any young man would truly find his mother more beautiful than his bride."

He grinned. "There are different types of beauty. Yours is simply more refined." He led Clarice to a cushioned chair and sat across from her.

"You should have stopped after the first sentence. Refined is simply a polite way of saying old."

"Not if you ask Hadrian," he countered, referencing the court translator who was also his best friend. Hadrian Higsley was well-known for his blunt personality and strict observance of grammatical rules and semantics.

"And so I would, if he were around." Clarice glanced about his room. "I expected to find him here with you."

Freddy shrugged. "I haven't seen him since the ball last night. He and Mariel were quite the pair, don't you think? I wouldn't be surprised if you're planning another wedding before the end of the year."

"Let's get through this one first." Clarice reached across the distance between them for his hand. Her firm, gentle grip was familiar and comforting, and it eased some of the tension in Freddy's shoulders that he had been stubbornly ignoring. "Are you certain that this is what you want to do?"

"It's a little late for that kind of question, don't you think?" Freddy joked. "If we canceled now, we would have a lot of disappointed guests and a possible economic collapse. Not to mention we've already booked the musicians, and I hear string players are prone to violins when they're angry."

Clarice's expression was unamused as she shook her head. "You've been spending far too much time with Prince Dorian." She squeezed his fingers. "But it's not too late until the vows are said. If Nedra responds negatively, we can handle that. Kysta will survive without their trade routes. My concern in this moment is not for the country, but for my son. Marriage is for life, Frederick. When you speak those words, you are tying yourself to Eliza until death. Your life, your future, your heart will be hers."

"And hers will be mine," he answered, the words more confidently on his lips than they were in his heart.

His mother was not so easily fooled. She sighed, and her other hand reached out to cup his cheek. "That is what I'm afraid of. You love so easily, my son. Your heart is bright and bold, and you aren't afraid of letting it shine. Your affection is not easily swayed. I know that Eliza was precious to you as a child—"

Freddy pulled back slightly, knowing already the direction his mother's words were heading.

"—but surely you must see that the warmth you show her is met only with coldness."

He opened his mouth to argue, but she shushed him with a finger.

"Let me finish, and then I won't say another word on the subject. Your loyalty to Eliza is commendable, as is your devotion to your country. I love Lizzie, too, but she has changed. I say this to you as both your mother and your queen: you matter more than the economic benefits that come with the marriage treaty, and you deserve a wife who will love you with the same passion and faithfulness as you will unreservedly give to her. Kysta may profit in the short term, but a prosperous country depends on the success of its rulers, and that success begins with the strength of their relationship. A marriage cannot stand on one leg for long."

Freddy was silent for a moment, allowing his mother's words time to sink in.

She's right, of course. Mother usually is. But I'm certain that the Lizzie that I know is still somewhere underneath that frosty exterior.

He let out a slow breath. "You want me to call off the marriage?"

Clarice rose, pulling him up with her as she did so. She patted his hand. "I want you to be certain of your course. I trust that you will do what you believe is right for both you and your country, but I want to make sure you know that you are not expected to throw away your happiness." She moved towards the door as she spoke, pausing with her fingers on the handle. "Kysta has survived without Nedra before; we can do it again."

"Thank you, Mother." Freddy bent down to kiss her cheek. "I appreciate your wisdom and concern. I will see you at the ceremony."

"One last question." Her eyes darted back and forth as she studied his face. "Do you love her?"

Warmth spread through his chest, taking the edge off the dull ache that seemed to be a permanent fixture of his heart over the last several years. He smiled softly. "I do."

Every day and always.

Clarice nodded sharply. "Then I will see you there."

It seems Mother didn't need to worry about the wedding after all.

Freddy wearily leaned his forehead against the door to the guest suite. "Lizzie? Can we discuss this, please?"

"I wasn't aware there was anything to discuss," Lizzie's cold, emotionless voice filtered through from the other side. Freddy wished, not for the first time, that he could hear the way her heart used to infuse every word and tone. Hearing her speak was like looking at a sketch of a familiar landscape—easily recognizable, but lacking depth and color.

"We're supposed to be getting married."

"We were."

He waited, but when it became clear she wasn't following up her statement with anything else, he pressed on. "I know what happened was unexpected—"

The door swung inward, catching him suddenly off-balance. Freddy stumbled forward a step before righting himself.

Lizzie stood in the open doorway, no longer in her wedding attire, but rather wrapped in a dusty pink dressing gown. Her golden hair was still pulled back into an intricate mess of curls and twists that he could only pretend to understand but deeply appreciated. A few strands were left to frame her face, highlighting her cheekbones and her breathtaking eyes that had mesmerized him since childhood. They were a pale, icy blue, like the color of a winter sky in the northern countries, and ringed by a circle of deep blue that reminded him of the depths of the sea that surrounded Kysta on nearly every side. Her eyes had once been the most expressive part of her face, and he had learned to read them just as easily as Hadrian could read any of the many languages he so loved. Freddy searched them now, hoping to see something—anything—that would give an indication of emotion.

She blinked up at him with a detached interest, as if he were a stranger on the street and not the boy she had known since childhood.

"I would be concerned for the relationship between our countries if you had been expecting an assassination attempt."

Her words, so close in flavor to her former dry sense of humor that he loved, caught him off guard. A spark of hope flared to life in his chest.

She's still in there somewhere. I don't know what happened to make her this way, but I have to believe that she'll go back to herself someday.

"It certainly wasn't the way I would have chosen to start off the ceremony, but I suppose it did lend an air of excitement." He grinned at her, hoping to tease a smile out of her in response. "It certainly will be an interesting tale to tell our children."

Lizzie said nothing, and Freddy's smile started to falter. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I know that things today didn't go according to plan, but Mother is arranging for the ceremony to be rescheduled for tomorrow."

"I assume this means that Hadrian is recovered?" Lizzie clasped her hands together in front of her, the posture matching her tone of polite inquiry.

Freddy cringed. "He is. I'm sorry; I should have led with that. I know he's your friend, too. He—"

"I don't need the details."

A cold wave of emotion crashed over him, quenching the little hope that had returned. He forced himself to smile. "Right. Well, as I was saying, Mother is working on rescheduling."

"She doesn't need to do that."

"I know it's a lot to ask of her, but she was quite adamant that she wanted to take care of it."

"No, I mean she doesn't need to, because we're leaving."

Freddy froze. Ice flowed through his veins, and it took a moment for his mind to fully process her words. He blinked slowly. "What?"

"We're leaving. Father is quite upset at this offense to Nedra, and he has already made all the necessary arrangements for us to return first thing in the morning. The wedding is off."

"How is what happened an offense to Nedra? The attempt was on my life, not yours."

"You allowed your guests to disrupt the wedding."

"I didn't do it intentionally! If I had known what she was planning, I wouldn't have allowed her to be there." Freddy grabbed the sides of his head, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep, slow breath.

This isn't her fault. Alfred is making the decision; she's simply the messenger. Getting upset at her will do nothing to solve the problem.

He dropped his arms heavily to his sides and opened his eyes. "I'm sorry that things didn't go as planned. What can I do?"

Her eyes were cold, her voice as unaffected as if they were discussing a change in the weather. "There's nothing to do, Frederick. We're leaving in the morning."

"You already came all this way. Why go back now just to return later? It doesn't make sense."

"It's not my decision."

"But it is your wedding. Surely, if you asked—"

"I don't want to ask."

Lizzie's words hit him like a knife in the gut, and Freddy worked his jaw back and forth for a moment as he tried to banish the lump in the back of his throat. His eyes burned with unshed tears.

"What happened, Lizzie?" he whispered. "We used to be best friends." He searched her face, desperately looking for a hint of some kind—any kind—of emotion. "What did I do?"

She shrugged. "People change."

"Not like this. Not so completely. You left ten years ago, and when you came back, it was like the Lizzie I knew was gone. You were so warm and full of life, and now you're just…cold."

She blinked, slow and unaffected. "I fail to see, then, why you would be so upset that there is no wedding. Why push for the union in the first place?"

"We have an agreement in place between our countries. Our fathers signed a contract."

Her hand waved his words away. "A technicality that can be overcome with good diplomacy."

"I don't want good diplomacy. I want you." Freddy reached for her hand, desperate to feel some kind of connection to the woman who had held his heart since youth.

"Why?" Lizzie tilted her head. "You said yourself that I was cold. Why would you want to tie yourself to that?"

"Because I love you. I thought I had made that perfectly clear."

"No." She pulled her hand away. "You love the girl that I used to be."

He shook his head earnestly. "No, that's not—"

"Which is just as well, because it means that you'll be able to recover quickly." She reached for the door handle.

"I don't want to recover quickly." Freddy could feel the desperation rising, clawing at his chest. "Lizzie—"

"My name is Eliza." Her face had shifted, turning hard and cold like granite. "And I'm afraid you don't have a choice. Goodbye, Frederick."

With that, she closed the door in his face. He heard the lock falling into place as he reeled, stumbling backwards until he hit the opposite wall. He sank slowly to the floor, cradling his head in his hands and resting his forehead on his knees.

I'm definitely not getting married today.