Crown Prince

Even before you were born, you had been promised to the crown prince Rowan of Larguire. It was the marriage that would save your family's finances, your parents would remind you, and you had spent your life preparing for your wedding day.

You learned to survive in the cutthroat world of court politics. You learned sewing, horseback riding, singing, and dancing. In short, you learned everything that would make you more attractive in letters to the crown prince, even if you didn't want to marry her.

Rowan, the crown prince, stood at the altar as the priest made his closing remarks, Rowan's expression turned into a small, polite smile. Why on earth would his fiancée—no, they had just gotten married—not work anymore—his wife was clearly rejecting him!

When they had first arrived at the castle and kept their distance from him a few weeks ago, he had assumed she was shy. When she had kept herself apart and never made conversation and always stayed away, he had assumed it was some ancient tradition he had simply never heard of, but when the priest had announced that they were to kiss, his wife had simply held out a gloved hand for him to kiss.

He got angry.

The priest finished his speech and the two held hands and walked back down the aisle as a couple. Rowan shook their hands without much delicacy and approached, in a light tone of voice.

"We'll talk."

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