Set Your Cap Upon Him - Ch. 1

 Cecily couldn’t help but stare. There her father sat across the table, grinning like an utter fool. “Surely you jest.” 

“It’s brilliant, I tell you. I will have you wed to the prince!” He blathered on. Cecily tuned most of it out as a 13 year old is wont to do. She wasn’t even an adult yet! 

“But, Papa, he’s old,” She pleaded. 

“Not too old for you, my dear! Think of it now: Princess Cecily Affean. What great honor you would bring to us.” He grabbed a small board he had pinned various papers on. “It will all work out, I assure you. You are too brilliant and beautiful a lady to not catch his eye. I shall explain it to you again…” 

Cecily sighed. Oh, the pains of teenagehood rest heavy on her shoulders. 

❂❂❂

She’s sitting near the window, cards in hand while waiting for her mother to discard, when her father comes storming in. “The prince had a fae with him today.”

“And? The fae are our neighbors beyond the wall.” Her mother’s eyes remained trained on her cards, voice even. She discards. 

“They ought to be locked away not running around with royalty,” He grumbles, swiping his hand across the table. The two piles mix and cards dart out to the floor. 

Her mother glares daggers at her father. “You are a child, my lord. Complete and utter. Ruining my lovely card game for your nonsense? Grow up.” She stands and leaves the room in a frighteningly calm manner. 

“Papa, maybe-” 

“We will have to make haste with our plans lest the prince become delusional. What if the fae spells him?”

“And that relates to marrying me off how?” She crouches and picks up the fallen cards. 

Her father doesn’t answer her and continues on in his bravado. “I will not rest ‘til I see you wed to Prince Knox.”

❂❂❂

Cecily has never thought herself to be a violent and unreasonable person. 

However, the deities are testing her capacity to not smack her beloved Papa upside the head, knock his legs out from under him, and ship him off to anywhere far from her presence.

 She glared in the bright sun toward where her father sat across the square, watching her moves. Apparently, some maid in the castle told a maid who told a maid who told one of their maids that the prince was likely to go about town today. Something told her they weren’t being truthful, judging by the sweat absolutely everywhere on her after wandering the square for nearly three hours. 

She’s about to call it quits and fake a faint when she saw the Prince walking along the street with someone. She looked to see if her papa had spotted him, and groaned when he grinned at her and ushered her on with an aggressive wave of his hand. “I am not crazy, I am not crazy, I am not crazy,” she muttered as she swallowed her pride. 

She’s so crazy. She might actually lock her father in the cellar and lose the key for a day. She hurried over. “Good morning, Prince Knox!” Behind his companion, she could see her father. Add in the glaring sun, and she couldn’t help the glare that settled on her face for a few moments. Realizing her glare, she forced her face out of it and looked at the person next to the prince.

He looked weird. That’s about the best description she could settle on. Frighteningly pale skin, eerily piercing eyes, purple hair - well, the hair isn’t all that odd. He murmured something and grabbed Prince Knox’s hand. She settled on a simpler description: it’s the fae Papa had mentioned. 

“Good morning, m’lady,” Prince Knox gestured wide and flourished his hand as he gave her a small bow. The fae laughed at the gesture, but she held back her own laugh at the absurdity of this whole scenario. 

“I see the-” she paused. What does she call the fae? Mother wouldn’t approve of that, and Papa wouldn’t want her dashing her chances with the prince. “-friend of yours is still here.” She forced a smile on her face. She might actually faint. The heat in her dress was suffocating, her embarrassment was high, and her inhibitions were wearing thin. 

The fae frowned and dropped the prince’s hand. “Oh, I never introduced myself, did I?” He bows. “Fechin Dune.”

She would swear she curtsied, but she’s not sure her legs actually moved. “Cecily Lorian.”

The fae- Fechin Dune, she corrected- frowned once more, but said nothing to her. Instead, he turned to the prince. “Knox, where were we going again?”

Oh, so they were friends. Friends called each other by their first name. Friends also smiled at each other, which the prince notably did with Fechin Dune and absolutely avoided with her.

“It’s a secret.” He turned to her. “Have a good day, Miss Cecily.” 

 It’s evident on his face that somewhere ‘secret’ was anywhere a delusional thirteen year old with an even less sane father couldn’t follow them. Not that she’d want to. She only wanted to collapse into a bath and plan her trip across Naranthia. 

Fechin waved farewell as they passed her, and she couldn't help but watch as the prince leaned over and whispered something into the fae’s ear. She assumed it’s about how she’s off-the-walls insane. Cecily was pretty sure that would be a correct assessment. 

She staggered into the shade, pulling at the collar of her dress. Papa quickly met her as she leaned back onto the nearest wall as dread gripped her stomach.

 “Wonderful, my dear! You conversed. At this rate, you’ll be wed within the month!” He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, joy apparent on his face.

That feeling wasn’t dread. She opened her mouth to reply, but all that came out was vomit that fell upon her father’s new shoes. She counted it as a win: it shut him up, and it got her home. 

❂❂❂

She’s back in the sitting room listening to Papa’s next big plan to marry her off. 

Her mother passed by the doorway and peered in, unamused. “Have you considered not marrying my thirteen year old daughter off? My lord, you are being overbearing.”

“It is what she deserves! She is too intelligent to not be among the most elite.”

“Is it what is within her right, or is it something that you want?” Her mother gazed at Papa for a moment before she went back into the hallway, heels clicking on the tile.

Her father glared at the empty doorway until her mother’s heels could no longer be heard. “She doesn’t understand this, does she?”

Cecily shook her head, not voicing a reply. She feared her mother knew far too well. 

“You will be on that throne one day, I assure you.”

She’d rather die quite frankly. Being stuck in the palace? There was too much to see to be content with that. Still, she sat and listened to him talk. She couldn’t help it if she also imagined some vagrant breaking in and stealing her to take her on an adventure after they knocked Papa out with one of the heavy tomes on the shelves along the wall.