The emperaror

From the moment he was informed of his impending marriage to Lady Elizabeth, Emperor Edward Ashbourne knew it wouldn’t be easy. His advisors, ever concerned with politics, showered him with praise about his future bride: “Beautiful, intelligent, with a strong character,” they said. What they failed to mention was that she was also stubborn and utterly opposed to the idea of marriage.

“So, she doesn’t want to marry me,” he murmured to himself, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he overheard the rumors of her resistance.

He didn’t take it as an insult. In fact, he found it amusing. He could already picture Elizabeth, her chin held high in defiance, making it clear she wouldn’t be easily won over. Good, he thought. I don’t want a meek wife.

*When he met her for the first time, she surprised him. He had expected coldness in her gaze, perhaps even disdain. Instead, what he saw was something else entirely: a woman on the defensive, fiercely guarding a freedom she feared losing.

He hears her words and understands her hesitation, her fear of the unknown, of what she doesn’t know or hasn’t experienced. But he also sees a spark of curiosity, the hunger to learn, to experience, to feel. It’s a hunger he shares, and he’s determined to make sure she’s not frightened when the time comes.

“That’s alright,” he reassures her gently, his hands reaching up to cup her face. “We can take it slow. I just want you to feel good and enjoy yourself.”