Politics suck, so will you marry me? (Closed) (One on one)

(Just thinking, should we do like a little time skip to the actual ball?)

(Yeah, we probably should)

(Alrighty, am I okay to start?)

(Yeah totally)

The beginning of the ball was upon them, and Emory for one was not looking forward to it in the slightest. While he knew how to make a good impression at these kinds of events, just as his father had taught him, that didn't mean he enjoyed having to socialise. So tonight, he wasn't going to actually socialise, the plan was to only say the right things to the right people and then hopefully he could return to his chambers before the ball had properly started. Of course, it was a wonderful thing to dream of. But a dream it would remain.

Emory could already hear the chattering of aristocracy before he'd reached the bottom of the grand staircase with his parents.
"Look sharp, Emory." his mother whispered, her usual charming smile spread across her lips. "You'll be fine."
As the doors to the ballroom drifted open, a chubby little man on the other side loudly proclaimed the arrival of Emory and his parents. Emory took a deep breath, and put on a dazzling, award-winning smile as he graciously followed his parents. Smile and wave, that's all you have to do for this part. Speak when spoken to.

Caroline sat in front of her mirror fidgeting with the bracelet on her wrist. Music floated through the castle. She couldn't go down to the party until everyone else important had arrived. Alice, her lady in waiting, poked her head into Caroline's bedroom. "It's time, Your Highness." Caroline nodded and followed Alice down a hall, down a staircase, and down another hall.

The doors to the ballroom were thrown open and Caroline ascended the staircase as she was announced. She smiled and nodded to the other nobles, quickly taking her place in a chair just for her while trying not to seem like she was rushing. It was a moment before people went back to the party. Once Caroline was satisfied that not too many people were still watching her, she stood and started to mill about. She had people to talk to after all.
(Sorry its kinda rushed)

Emory was deep in conversation with one of his father's trading partners, discussing the possibility of changing the produce they traded, when he noticed Caroline in the room. She looked just as gentile as she had on the balcony, though he could tell she wasn't comfortable in this setting. He quickly turned his attention back to the trade partner, his business smile glistening under the light of the chandeliers above. Success. The king of Valedinia strode over to him, patting him gently on the back in a fatherly way. It wasn't a fatherly way though. The king never treated Emory as a son, only as a tool to keep the kingdom powerful.
"The dancing should be starting soon my boy," the king boomed, a cheerful smile lit up his aged features. "I expect the little princess will be waiting for you."
Emory nodded, keeping his face neutral. "Of course father." His father knew he hated dancing, but he didn't have much of a choice right now.

Caroline grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing tray, hoping the alcohol would calm her nerves. If anyone saw her nerves, saw that she was vulnerable, they would pounce on her. Prince Emory stood next to his father, and she saw them both glance at her. The musicians started a new song, a waltz. Oh saints, he was going to ask her to dance with him. The thought disgusted her. She could practically feel her blood boil every time she thought about him and what his country wanted to do to her's. She took a breath, smiled, and took a sip of her champagne. This had to happen eventually.

The music began to fill the air and with a gentle nudge and firm look from his father, Emory knew it was time.
He silently gulped and made his way over to Caroline. His bright smile became a little nervous, but no less dazzling, as he was finally in front of the princess. Guests were watching them, he could feel their eyes in the back of his head and he just wanted them to go away.
Emory bowed politely, just as he had upon seeing her on the balcony, and gracefully held out his hand as he rose back up slightly. "Your highness, may I have this dance?"

Caroline took a gulp of champagne as Emory bowed. He he straightened back up she set her glass down on another passing tray and smiled as she took his hand. "Oh please, Prince Emory," she said, still smiling a dazzling smile as she placed her other hand on his arm. "There's no need to ask. You and I both know I do not have a choice. No need to waste your breath on such formalities." It wasn't a productive thing to say but the very sight of him made her angry and it was hard to control herself.

"I don't think it's fair that you're being forced into this, it's not right." Emory's eyes seemed to sadden for a moment as he murmured, but his previous demeanor returned when he lead Caroline into the center of the ballroom. All eyes would be on them and he didn't like it one bit, but it was expected of them, they had to do it. He placed one hand on her waist, holding her hand gently, and slowly he eased them both into the waltz.

Caroline blinked at him, thrown off guard. "I'm not being forced into anything," she muttered as he led her to the middle of the dance floor. She didn't even realize she was muttering. This was what she expected. Even when she wasn't so close in line for the throne, she knew she would have to marry someone for the good of the kingdom. This wasn't a new concept for her. What she was not accustomed to was someone feeling sorry for her situation. It's probably a ruse to let your guard down. She smiled again as she fell into step with Emory. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine with this arrangement. That isn't what I'm upset about."

"You're upset because my parents wish to invade?" Emory's words came out as a question, though it was more of a statement. The two of them knew exactly what would happen if Caroline refused to wed Emory. Then again, he hadn't actually asked for her hand, so she couldn't say no to something he hadn't asked.
Why was any situation involving a woman so confusing and difficult? After all these years of being surrounded by women, they have only seemed to confuse him more than make him interested in them.
A sharp stare caught the prince's attention. His father. It was a stare that almost said 'you're wasting time', but he didn't care. Emory twirled a little, lifting the princess gently by the waist. When he set her back down, his hand rested carefully on her lower back. "Tell me, if you weren't attending this ball, what would you be doing?"

“Yes, obviously. Are you always this dense?” Caroline struggled to keep her smile on her face. Apparently, he was that annoying. She gasped when he lifted her. She hadn’t expected him to be that strong or that bold. She remembered days ago, when he had bowed to her as she stood on the balcony. Apparently he was a bold person. “Reading,” she replied before she could think about the question. She blinked at him, suspicious. “Why?” she demanded.

A confused expression crossed Emory's features when the princess called him dense. Was he being dense?
"I am merely curious as to what a lady such as yourself does in her free time." he replied after a moment, refusing to meet her eyes for a second. "Pardon me if I have offended you." He could tell she hated him, the smile on her face was starting to falter and there was a harshness in her tone that he hadn't expected.

Stop being so nice to me.
"Well, I read." Over his shoulder, she caught the eye of Thomas standing next to her father, the advisor that had come up with this wretched plan. She tried not to let his approving smile distract her, and instead fixed her gaze on Prince Emory. She watched him look at anything but her and took pity on him, deciding to play nice, if only for a moment. "Am I to assume that you're happy here at this ball? Or is there also something else that you would rather be doing as well? You don't strike me as a reader."

"Actually, I do enjoy a bit of reading." Emory chuckled softly, shaking his head before looking back at Caroline. No one ever thought he was the type of prince who enjoyed reading, but it was the fictional stories that had found a home in his heart. "The tales of daring adventurers at sea, of romance blossoming between two unlikely characters who were once enemies. Those are the kinds of stories that really get the imagination working. Though I will admit, I prefer painting the images that are created in my head." Emory lifted Caroline up once more, and when he lowered her down, he spun her gently out to the side, and unusually genuine smile was on his lips.

Something genuine started to form in Caroline's smile as well. "Ah of course. You read stories." She gasped a little when he lifted her up again, then tried not to fall over when he spun her. "You paint?" she asked, trying not to seem out of breath, or that she was very close to falling over. But his hand was there and he pulled her towards him again, steadying her. "And I see you have an affinity for dancing, Prince Emory."

"I do paint," Emory smiled as he pulled the princess towards him. "It's quite a peaceful pass time." He placed his hand on her waist once again, beginning to take larger strides with more twirls and dips involved. "As for dancing, well, I've never been that good at it. You, on the other hand, are performing beautifully." He could see that she was out of breath, but the dance would be over soon, so perhaps she would take that time to get some fresh air. At least that's what he assumed she would do.

Caroline studied his face for a moment. “Are you joking? About being good at dancing?” She spun away from him, then they came back together. “Because you seem to have quite the knack for it. I, however, do not. I don’t usually dance at parties. Or not very difficult dances, at least. I’m just following your lead.” She didn’t know the song well enough to know if it would be over soon or not. She hoped it would. Her corset was tighter than usual, and she didn’t want to be known as someone who fainted at parties. Especially not from dancing.

The music slowed down to a halt just as Emory dipped Caroline down. He held their position for a moment, his gaze lingering on hers, before slowly lifting her back up. Still holding onto one of her hands, he bowed. "Thank you for the pleasure of that dance, Princess Caroline. I shall leave you to get a touch of fresh air should you wish."

Caroline blinked at Prince Emory. She stepped back and let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "Thank you, Prince Emory." She took another step back and quickly walked out to the balcony, walking slow enough so she didn't seem like she was rushing. She took a moment to catch her breath. The dancing had taken more out of her than she thought it would. This was why she never danced at parties.

"Excellent performance." Caroline jumped as a voice next to her spoke.

She sighed. "Thank you, Thomas."

"He must propose to you by the end of the festival. He knows he needs to propose, but he does not know when. So make sure it's soon."

"Thomas-"

"You want to protect your country, don't you?"

Caroline sighed, gritting her teeth. "Yes."

"Good girl. Enjoy the party, Your Majesty." Caroline watched him walk away, then went towards the party in search of the nearest champagne tray.

Emory watched as Caroline briskly made her way out onto the balcony. She really was a confusing woman…

He turned around to find his father with a very proud yet still firm expression. Wasn't there anything that made that man smile?
"I trust the dancing was to your satisfaction?" Emory asked as he approached his father.
"Of course, but you seemed to be enjoying it a little too much." The king rubbed his chin in thought and his usual disapproving demeanor returned. "I suppose it was all that talking you were doing. A king does not make small talk during a dance, and how unbecoming of a future queen to be into reading." he stressed the last word as if it were a sickness.
Emory's eyebrows knitted together as he frowned at his father. "I am not a king yet, father, and how dare you say that about the princess." he turned his back to the king, but glanced over his shoulder. "Reading feeds with mind, which has the ability to create things that an uneducated bastard such as yourself could never even dream of."

Leaving the king to wallow in his rising anger for Emory's clear disrespect, the prince left the ball and took himself outside to the gardens. The night was too beautiful to be spending it indoors surrounded by puffed up peacocks who didn't know left from right.

Caroline stared at Emory’s father in shock. She hadn’t heard their conversation, but she could tell harsh words were exchanged. He scowled at her and she quickly turned around. She spotted Thomas heading towards her again and rushed towards the garden.

Prince Emory was standing near the Ro she bushes, and unfortunately he was her only option right now.

“You do not have to talk to me, but I’m standing with you anyway,” she said, standing next to him. “And me being here does not mean I like you.”

Emory was completely silent for a moment as he just stared out over the gardens. The anger towards his father still bubbled deep inside him, and he feared that should he open his mouth he would end up showing his anger in front of Caroline.
What gave his father the right to be narrow-minded, when I successful king was one who was open to the idea of new things. A king like that could earn the respect of millions, knowing that they would be accepted in his kingdom. Sooner or later, Emory's father would fall and it would be his own ignorant ways that saw the end of his reign.

Emory knew Caroline wasn't happy. It wasn't fair on her that she was being forced into a marriage just to keep her father's kingdom safe. The prince's shoulders fell a little as a sigh left his lips. "I'm not going to propose to you."

Caroline inhaled sharply and whipped her head to look at him. “What are you talking about? Is this some kind of joke? You have to propose to me,” she demanded. She wasn’t even aware that was something they were talking about, let alone flat out refusing to do it. She could feel her throat closing up. She glared at him. “Prince Emory. What kind of game are you playing?” They needed to get married.

"I can't." He replied, turning to look Caroline in the eyes. She was definitely an attractive woman, and something that made her even more beautiful was her love of books, but while Emory would have loved to engage her, he couldn't. "I know full well of what my father plans to do should our kingdoms fail to align, but I care more about your happiness. How can I wed someone who won't be happy? It isn't fair on you."

Caroline took a deep breath as she clenched and unclenched her jaw. “If my kingdom is safe I will be happy. Look at me and the position I’m in. I was fourth in line for the throne for the majority of my life. Maybe if it was fifth, or even seventh I would have gotten married for love. But I studied. Historically, I knew I would marry for political gain. This is not a new concept for me. I’ve made my peace with it.” She looked out at the garden. Admittedly, when her brothers died she had a small sliver of hope that she would get a position of power and would get to choose who she married, but that idea had quickly been squashed. “Is that the only reason?”

Emory thought about what Caroline had said, it was admirable really, the be putting the safety of your kingdom first—she would make a good queen one day—but while the prince knew that was the mindset he himself needed to have, he couldn't help but feel the need to be selfish, especially in a situation like this. "No one should be forced to marry someone that they aren't going to love or be happy with. I would be more than happy to wed you, but are you sure that you definitely want that for yourself. Put your kingdom aside for a moment and think about your own wellbeing. Do you truly want to be my queen?"

Caroline brushed at her hair, the most exasperated movement she could make without ruining her hair. “Why are you asking me to think about that? I can’t think about that.” She stared out over the garden, then quickly turned her head to make sure no one was listening. “Fine.” She turned back to Emory. “I don’t want to be anyone’s queen. I don’t want to marry anyone. I would want to be queen without a king. The only posible way around that would to have a prince consort, but that would never happen. I want to be queen. I know I could be a good one by myself.” She was silent for a moment, then looked at Emory again. “Are you sure it’s myself you’re concerned about?”