The Right Choice

Prologue

The Princes Dupont and Grayson had never seen the mountains before. They were transfixed by the majesty of the landscape as their carriage entered the Duchy of Lydisia within the country of Alderei. The boys had been staring out of the carriage windows ever since crossing the border out of Eswen. “Sit back and close your mouths!” their father snapped. “You are princes of Eswen, not fish from the Southern Sea!” The boys sat back and put their heads down.

“My dear, they are only admiring the scenery,” the Queen attempted to soothe her husband’s nerves. “We don’t have such mountains in Eswen.”

“That doesn’t give them the right to forget their status.” The king snapped back, raising his hand and his voice. The Queen bowed her head, while the boys looked on in fear.

The king addressed his family coldly, settling back into his seat. He was the only one on that side of carriage. The queen was stuffed in between the two boys on the other cushioned bench. “We must represent royalty at all times. Especially when the King and Queen of Alderei arrive, but even in front of Lord Arthur and his family.” His eyes fell upon Grayson, who shrank from his father’s gaze. “I will not be embarrassed in front of my friend. It was generous of him to offer his estate for this meeting. We will be gracious and remember who we now are.”

The children nodded solemnly. The king continued, “If we are lucky, you will both leave here with future brides. Dupont,” he looked at his oldest son, “You are to be especially gracious around King Marcus and Queen Sarah. I want to arrange for you to marry their daughter, Catherine. Grayson,” he eyed his younger son with contempt. “Try not to disappoint me. Make friends with Lady Abigail, if you can manage that much. She is who I have chosen to be your betrothed, and is frankly the best option you will ever have. Prove that you deserve her.”

“Yes father,” Grayson said quietly.

The Queen leaned over and took her younger son’s hand. “You will like Lady Abigail. You are the same age, and I hear she’s a very kind and pretty child.”

“I don’t care if she is part troll,” the King replied. “You will marry who I tell you to marry. You as well, Dupont. Marcus and Sarah haven’t been on their thrones very long either, and an alliance between our countries will strengthen us both.” He smiled a smile that made Grayson uncomfortable. “They sent their champion to put me on the throne. They need to acknowledge their choice.”

“I’m sure they will, my lord,” the queen ventured. “You were the best choice, especially since the old King died without heirs.” She smiled at the children, “and you bring two strong boys with you to continue the line.” The king did not respond, which made Grayson even more uncomfortable. Nothing good came from his father’s silence.

When they arrived at Coursar Hall, they were greeted by Lord Arthur, Lady Christine, and the two girls: Abigail, 4, and her younger sister Rose, age 3. Lord Arthur was a handsome man, tall and noble, dark hair and kind eyes. His wife, a Duchess in her own right, was a petite woman with thick curly hair and bright green eyes that were her husband’s greatest weakness.

Each daughter was a miniature version of one parent. Abigail took after her mother, with a mass of dark curls and clear green eyes – unlike her mother, however, her curls were wild, escaping any attempt to corral them. Little Rose was a tiny replica of her father, right down to the kindness in her dark eyes.

Dupont nudged Grayson. “Abigail doesn’t appear to be part troll, at least.” Grayson blushed in response. He thought she was quite pretty.

The King and Queen of Alderei would be joining them in a few days. The trip had been specifically planned this way so the two friends and their families could enjoy each other’s company for a little while prior to having to get down to business. Lord Arthur greeted his friend warmly, and they both introduced their wives to each other. The women became instant friends, immediately talking about their children and the weight of running a royal household.

Much to everyone’s delight, Abigail and Grayson became fast friends. When they first arrived, Grayson had been shy and clung to his mother’s skirts. Queen Arabella had introduced both boys to the girls, and while Dupont showed no interest in playing with the younger children, Grayson had been shyly peeking at Abigail since their arrival.

“Lady Mother?” Abigail asked quietly.

“Yes, my love?”

“May I show Prince Grayson the gardens?”

“Of course! What a wonderful idea!” Queen Arabella extracted her skirts from her son’s grasp. “Grayson, my love, go and play with Lady Abigail. She will take good care of you.”

Abigail reached out and offered the prince her hand, which he took hesitantly. Abigail said gently, “Come, my lord. We have very pretty gardens here. We have a stream and a pond filled with turtles!”

“Oh… Grayson is not… he does not have the constitution to be around reptiles,” the Queen said in concern.

“Let them be,” the king said sharply. “He cannot be babied forever. If Lady Abigail can handle a turtle, so can a prince of Eswen!” The Queen bowed her head in compliance.

Abigail took Grayson to the gardens, and after looking at the flowers for a while, they made their way to the pond. “I don’t think I like turtles,” Grayson said quietly. He honestly didn’t know if he did, he just remembered what his mother had said earlier.

“Oh! My apologies!” Abigail quickly curtsied, though her face fell. “We can find something else to look at, we have…” She searched her mind for something interesting to show him, frowning.

Grayson wasn’t sure what came over himself, but he knew he did not like it when Abigail did not smile. He mustered up all his courage. “I might be okay with the turtles… if you help me?”

Abigail smiled brightly and took his hand. “We can just look at them today. We don’t have to touch them, and we can leave if you’re scared.”

Grayson smiled back, “I like that idea. Just stay with me.”

“I promise, my lord.” Abigail smiled at him and it made his stomach feel funny.

By the end of the day, two things had happened: Grayson had held a turtle while supervised by Abigail, and the two of them became inseparable. For the next two weeks, if they were awake, they were together. They spent every day they could in the garden. Abigail taught him to climb trees, and he taught her silly songs. She taught him to be okay with getting dirty, and he taught her how to read. They cried when parted to the point the nursery staff let them first nap together, then fall asleep in the same bed in the evening before separating them. King Hayden had never been more proud of his son. Grayson had played his part perfectly, much to the King’s surprise.

By the end of the two-week visit, Prince Grayson had declared to anyone who would listen that he was going to marry Lady Abigail. He had already given her a pretty green rock as his ‘engagement gift’ that he said looked like her eyes. He said they were going to have four babies, but first, they were going to travel the world and defeat all the monsters in it. Their wedding would be by the pond. Abigail told them all that she would have flowers in her hair. All the adults smiled indulgently.

Unfortunately, King Hayden only achieved half of his goals. Prince Dupont was to be married to Princess Catherine upon her reaching the age of 18, which was a great win for the king politically. However, Duke Arthur and Duchess Christine were uninterested in discussing marriage for their own daughters until they were old enough to decide for themselves, so there was no betrothal for Grayson and Abigail. The Grand Duke and the Duchess had married for love themselves and wished the same for their daughters. This was a progressive stance that the King was not overly fond of, but he respected his friend and did not force the issue.

Abigail cried for a week when the royal family of Eswen left. She cried for her friend and refused to sleep alone for a month afterward. Her father promised she would see the prince again soon. The families had agreed to make their visits a regular event.

Grayson didn’t dare cry for his friend. His father was angry that he wasn’t able to secure a betrothal for his younger son, but even he couldn’t blame Grayson for that. Grayson wanted to bask in his father’s almost-pride for as long as possible, so he shared his sadness with his brother instead.

“You’ll see again her again soon,” Dupont reasoned. “I’m sure she misses you just as much and you’ll still be friends.”

“I hope so,” Grayson responded. He missed his friend and the way her smile made him feel. He trusted his brother, though. Dupont was the smartest and best person Grayson knew.