Moved here with the permission of the Empire of Shalum. Contains Mature Content
The Imperatorial Palace
The Duchy of Haford
The Empire of Shalum
The seat of House Holland’s power was centuries old, nestled atop some of the towering hills that overlooked the capital of Aragon below. It had started as a small fort in a very defensible location, but had expanded into the massive complex that it was today. With over twenty interconnected structures stretched across twenty acres, and some fifteen-hundred rooms, it wasn’t hard for one to simply get lost on the palace grounds. If one cared enough to pay attention to the architecture, they would have noticed that the buildings around the perimeter were much newer, ranging anywhere from the late 1800s to the early fifties and sixties. The heart of it all, where the royal family lived and worked, however, had been constructed back in the sixteenth century. It was not the original structure, however, considering that the Ossorians had razed the previous one.
“Boys, please go ahead and take their bags to their rooms. They may not be staying there long, but at least put them somewhere proper until our lovely guests decide whether or not they approve of their lodgings.” The Imperatrix commanded what felt like a small company of household staff the moment that she disembarked from the SUV that their group had been brought to the palace in. Though employees and visitors kept their vehicles up top, the royal family had their own underground parking structure for the sake of security; it was where they found themselves now.
After a chorus of affirmatives from her employees, Allison smiled and adjusted her top while Anna yawned and hopped out from the vehicle, rubbing her eyes as she lingered near Tarja and Lydia. “Well girls, we’re finally home.” The blonde chuckled as she rolled her shoulders. It may have been afternoon, but the flight still left her tired and her muscles tense. “My husband was adamant that we throw you a dinner to celebrate your arrival, but I figured that you’d like to meet your husband to be after so much waiting, Tarja.” Allison continued with a twinkle in her eyes. “Would you like to move onto that now, or make him wait for a bit while you get settled in?”
“William is nothing short of patient,” Princess Anna chuckled as she fished her own backpack from the trunk of the SUV before slamming it shut.
Tarja almost sighed, but stopped herself. Here it was, her impending marriage, impossible to avoid. It wasn’t that she hated William. After all, she didn’t even know the man. Still, it wasn’t precisely the scenario that she’d dreamed of...not that she ever gave altogether too much thought to her future. What she had decided was that she would face it, like everything else, with that unsinkable sort of determination that she’d inherited from her father. It was a situation that she would make the best of, and the last person she meant to be angry with or resentful of was William. Aapeli, though, would probably be best far away from her and firearms. “I hardly wish to be rude,” she said pleasantly, pulling off her gloves. “Besides, he should probably be acquainted with what he’s been roped into before dinner. Lydia, will you be a dove and see to the unpacking?”
The corner of Lydia’s mouth quirked slightly into a frown as she met her mistress’s stormy eyes. She wasn’t eager to leave Tarja alone, and not just because she didn’t want the Alemarran noble to talk herself into trouble. Lydia knew better than most how hard the news of an arranged marriage had hit Tarja. There was no guarantee that things would go gracefully or leave her unscorched. She stepped over once they were inside and took Tarja’s coat, hat, and gloves.
“I am quite capable of being on my best behavior, thank you,” Tarja said with a despairing sigh, though she smiled at the end of it. It was good to have someone worrying after her. “I shall take your fretting under advisement, I assure you. Now off with you. I’ll not have my things scattered about the guest bedroom willy-nilly, and we all know that’s what happens when I unpack.”
“Yes, Your Ladyship,” Lydia said with a quick curtsey. She didn’t like it, but she didn’t have to. Tarja was a grown woman, after all. It was silly to worry overmuch, or that was at least what the maid told herself. She had some confidence that it would be alright. After all, the adventure had taken some of the bite out of Tarja’s frustration. Lydia knew she could probably do more good making sure that Tarja’s room felt as much like home as it could, all things considered, than staying and trying to chaperone. The maid headed off after the men with the bags with a quick step, catching up to them.
“Worries more than a terrier, that one,” Tarja said, a fond and half-hearted rebuke. She looked back at the Imperatrix and Anna. “Shall we? I will follow you.”
The Imperatrix's expression was mixed; part of her was warmed by what she witnessed between Tarja and her maid on a regular basis, and other part of her disheartened by the position that the Alemarran woman found herself in. There was no way around the fact that Allison was directly responsible, if only in part, for arranging this whole marriage in the first place; her husband would have been happy to let William live out the rest of his days as the male equivalent of a spinster. "That may be, but she seems to be a good friend that cares about you deeply." The blonde said softly as she watched the retreating form of Lydia being guided deeper into the palace grounds. Allison could only imagine what it would be like to have friends like that; she'd lost touch of so many of her old cohorts over the years as the common woman she had been faded away and was replaced by a prim and proper royal surrounded by purebred ladies-in-waiting. Taking a deep breath, she nodded languidly. "Come, dear, I'll show you the way. I arranged the meeting in his favorite sitting room."
As they began their walk through the parking structure and into the bowels of the palace, Anna couldn't help but keep pace with Tarja. Over the years, she had grown sick of most of the countesses and foreign noblewoman that her family had surrounded her with. The future wife of her brother, however, was different though. The hunting trip and their time together had proved that much. "Hey now," she smiled softly as she nudged the raven haired beauty on the hip. "Don't get too down yet, you never know, maybe you'll like my brother. He's always been the quiet one when compared to...the rest of them, especially Matthew." She paused and chewed her lip. "Well, you could do worse at least, is what I'm trying to say..."
Tarja couldn’t help being a bit amused by Anna’s effort to cheer her up. “It’s not me I’m worried about, darling,” she said with her usual, flippant air. An Alemarran woman could pull herself together with aplomb on the worst of days, generally speaking, and this was far from that. “Quiet is not the first adjective that springs to mind when my name comes up.” The poor man was about to be handed a tempest in a teacup, as far as Tarja could tell. She knew she wasn’t the easiest person in the world to live with, though she wasn’t certain if she was worse or better when sober. Most of the difference just seemed to be in degree. She made a mental note to ask Lydia, if only to see the amused look on her maid’s face.
Anna snorted in agreement. “Well, you’ve got it right there, at least. If anything, loud would be more fitting for you. Partier is the second attribute that comes to mind.” The princess replied jokingly as she looked her sister-law-to-be in the eyes; they stood about the same height without heels. “Come to think of it, you’re pretty much his polar opposite as far as personalities go…” She mused aloud as they navigated the hallways of the palace. They had taken a back entrance, one that ultimately took them through several sections of the building dedicated to servants and their various duties. It wasn’t uncommon for the royals and nobles to take these paths in order to save time, especially when there were intense matters of state to handle.
“Opposites attract as they saying goes, I believe. Maybe you’ll fall head over heels for the prince filled with interesting, if not useless information, my dear.” Allison smirked as she looked back at the Alemarran noblewoman. She loved her son with all her heart, of course, but that did not mean that even he was safe from her humor. Another couple of minutes passed before they arrived, the Imperatrix not even seeming to be phased by the long walk; the palace was a great place to get one’s exercise quotient in. “Alright, we’re here, girls. Let’s go say hello.”
The sitting room that they found themselves in a few moments later was certainly comfortable, though more informal than some of the others found throughout the palace grounds. Couches and chairs were set out in a way that one would have expected the living room of a family. Along the wall to their left was a gas fireplace that burned steadily despite the fact that winter was starting to lighten up. The far was was made entirely of a thick looking glass, as were several sections of the ceiling, all of which allowed in a good deal of natural light. There was a small table and a couple shelves off in another corner, all of which were stocked with expensive looking liquors. Though not a proper bar with tender and all, it would have certainly gotten the job done.
The centerpiece of it all, however, was Prince William himself. Dressed in his military uniform, apparently fresh from his job at a local base, he certainly cut an impressive figure if nothing else. He was taller than his fiance by a head at least, though their features were similar. The officer had inherited his father’s hair and eye color but the demeanor of his mother. Taking one last, started drink from a small glass, he quickly set it aside and wiped at his lips with the back of his hand. “Ah, hello everyone.” He greeted with a small, awkward kind of wave. Immediately, his eyes darted to the one person that he had only heard of until now - Tarja.
Introductions were always a tricky business in Alemarr. They were affairs governed by countless rules and customs, particularly between a woman and a man. Generally back home, someone who knew both parties made the introduction. However, they were not in Alemarr and Tarja knew that some concessions would have to be made on her part for the informality of Shalum. She approached carefully, though she did smile. There was something almost adorable about that awkwardness. Things would probably be strained at first, but hopefully that wouldn’t last forever. Her stormy grey eyes studied him for a long moment, but not with any hostility. “Charmed to make your acquaintance, Prince William,” she said. It was almost painful not to say Your Highness, but she managed to curb the Alemarran demand for formality that was embedded into her genetic code. “As I’ve no doubt you’re aware, I am Tarja Cederström, formerly the Countess of Naantali.” If this was going to happen, and there was no escaping it now, she would do her best...though perhaps not without a touch of alcohol to loosen up. “Would you mind terribly if I fixed myself a drink?”
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Countess Cederström.” The prince replied with an anxious kind of smile, his chocolate orbs drinking in the depths of her stormy eyes. Aside from what his mother had told him about his future wife, and what he had learned through the globe-spanning grapevine that was the Shalumite noble court and their many connections, he really didn’t know anything about who Tarja was or how she was going to conduct herself. The least he could try and do was present himself as relatively put together, rather than whatever she had probably learned of him through off-hand comments. “Please, go ahead, fix yourself a drink or two if you’d like. This is as much your home as it is mine, there is no need to even ask.” He replied with a small chuckle as he shifted on his heels. William tried not to let the gravity of the statement hit him too hard. In a few short days, or perhaps weeks, that statement would be truer than ever; Tarja was about to be a princess, after all.
Anna had already meandered her way over to the bar in the few moments that the two had shared. She gave Tarja an guilty kind of smile and picked up an imported lager from Schottia. Taking a bit sip, she quickly set it aside before holding up a bottle of Ossorian whiskey invitingly. From her place by the door, Allison just rolled her eyes. “If you feel comfortable, countess, I would be happy to leave you in the care of my daughter and son. No need for me to play mother hen for adults such as yourselves if you don’t think it necessary,” she offered with a small smile. The least she could do was offer them the chance to get to know each other without her constant oversight.
It felt strange to have Anna there as chaperone, but Tarja decided she would roll with it where she could. “I am as comfortable as humanly possible, Your Majesty. No need to remain on my account,” Tarja said as she poured herself a glass of whiskey. It was a fair bit more than a shot, but she wasn’t going to feel it much. After all, she’d flown into Shalum almost stone cold sober, so she had some catching up to do before even a buzz hit. She smiled at William. “Thank you for the welcome. It is very much appreciated. And please, just Tarja. I’m no longer Countess of Naantali—my sister has that honor.” She left unspoken the thought, We’ll be married soon anyway and that much formality would just be strained.
She took a seat on one of the couches. “I’m afraid you have me at a bit of a disadvantage, Prince William. I have always been somewhat of a public nuisance, so I have no doubt you know more of me than I do of you. Alemarr is also a bit...egocentric. We get international news, but domestic politics always move to the forefront. Nobles are terrible that way. Have you been with the military long?” He did cut a good figure, something that Tarja had an eye for. She also approved of military men in general, as it was something of a family tradition for the Cederströms. Wild and dangerous blood, people said. She decided she would at least make an effort to break the ice, even if it made her seem chattier than her norm.
Tarja was a bit more proper now than she had been on the trip previously. The rigidity of Alemarran posture had returned once she was again exposed to the public eye, or at least strangers. A few drinks and she’d probably relax again. It just felt awkward to her not to be alone with William. She was sanitizing her speech in Anna’s presence as much as she had in Allison’s. Alemarrans had different levels of honesty regarding their opinions depending on intimacy and roles, like the layers of an onion or a nesting doll. There were things she would say to her future husband that she wouldn’t to her future sister-in-law, even as free-spirited as she was. Hopefully William wouldn’t mind waiting until later and more privacy to discuss the whole marriage affair. Tarja had no illusions that he would be perfectly chipper about it either.
“Today might be your lucky day then.” William chuckled as his eyes followed her across the room. Moving over to one of the expensive leather recliners, he carefully dropped down into the seat. He wanted, oh so dearly, to sink deep down into the sinfully comfortable furniture, and for a brief moment he did just that before correcting his posture. His habit of slouching, particularly in private, was a terrible one that he wasn’t inclined to break, no matter how much it made his back hurt as he grew older. “I’ve never been one for gossip, and well, let’s just say that if the nobles of our court are whispering, it’s probably going to be about me rather than you.” He said in an attempt to reassure her. Gone were the days when he had friends and allies in his own familial court; the scandal of his divorce had practically wiped away every bit of credibility and standing that he had among his peers.
Not that he really cared, there were more sharks among the Shalumite nobles than there were well-intentioned souls.
Glancing down at himself for a moment, William looked up at nodded slowly. Perhaps forgetting to change out of his uniform hadn’t been such a bad idea after all; he was at least aware of her family’s military history, as well as the exploits of her father. “I have ma—” He stopped himself quickly and flashed her a sheepish smile. “I have, Tarja.” The prince corrected himself. “Every Shalumite has to serve from eighteen to twenty-two. I started at that age, of course, and worked my way through officer’s school before being posted here in Aragon. I’ve been in for...eight years and a couple months.” He replied, only pausing momentarily as he did the mental math. “I’m a major with the 11th Internal Security Group.”
“Told you, Tarja, he’s real boring. One of them soft-skin infantry types.” Anna teased before taking another sip of beer. “Y’all ain’t got nothin on us tankers.” She added with a cheeky smile. Though one might not have assumed it out of a princess that loved to party almost as much as Tarja did, the young blonde had served with the 5th Armored Reserve Group for the duration of her four year service.
“At least when my men clear a building, sis, it's still bloody standing.” William retorted sharply, his lips curling with amusement as he looked over at Anna. Glancing back at his fiance, he was thoughtful for a moment. “Aren’t you tired from the flight?”
“Is that your best attempt at trying to kick me out?” The blonde replied, cocking one eyebrow as she leaned against the bar, backpack still slung lazily over one shoulder.
“Something like that. I’m sure Tarja and I will be just fine on our own.” Though William loved his sister dearly, he was no more keen on having her around at the moment than his betrothed was—though he didn’t actually know this. It was bad enough that everything had happened so quickly, and without approval from either of them; the least they deserved was privacy.
“If you want, I’ll be happy to go.” Anna chuckled as she pushed off from the bar, seeming unfazed. Bottle in hand, she padded towards the door that Allison had just exited through moments earlier. “You kids have fun. Please try and not do anything too crazy before y’all shack up, at least, ‘kay?” She smirked before pushing the door open and seeing herself out.
“I, ah, apologize. I hope that didn’t come off as coarse...I just figured that this would be something better done without an observer.” William admitted as he rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes now lingering on the Alemarran noblewoman. “If you don’t already, I’m sure you’ll come to love my sister. She really is the life of the party a lot of times,” he added with an endearing smile. “Now, uh, back on topic—are you interested in the affairs of the military, Tarja? I understand that your father was a rather important figure back home.” William continued, hoping that he wasn’t rushing things along too quickly; he was nervous to say the least. Lord only knew how much time they would have to get to know each other before his parents move the wedding proceedings along, after all.
“Not coarse at all. Anna is a darling, but I had hoped to talk to you without an audience as well,” Tarja said with a smile. “I have some interest in the military. Obviously not particularly ladylike, but my father did always want a boy. Though Shalumites are a good deal more egalitarian than Alemarrans, despite our illustrious monarch. Not that I particularly aspired to positions of great power when I was back at Court. Which, of course, makes all of this rather...unexpected.”
The Alemarran noblewoman sipped at her whiskey, collecting her thoughts for a moment. There was being overly bold and being forthright, and Tarja had never really mastered the fine art of walking the fine line that separated the two. Her mother had told her to keep everything in and her father to shout and slam things. It left her conflicted at times like this. “We should probably do a bit of air-clearing, if I can be impossibly rude,” Tarja said with a small smile. “I know this likely isn’t what you had in mind—that I’m not exactly what you might have had in mind. I know enough to know that things haven’t gone swimmingly in the past, not to put too fine a point on it.” She wasn’t entirely certain what to say beyond that, so she took another drink before speaking again. “I say what I mean, generally speaking. It’s a little quirk that has gotten me into far more trouble than it’s gotten me out of. So, I can’t promise you that things will necessarily be better—fortune-teller I am not—but they will be different.”
Tarja took a breath, studying William intently for a moment before looking down at the amber liquid she was swirling in her glass. “I do beg your pardon if any of that is out of line. Things do not always translate well, but I like to think at least my grasp of the nuts and bolts of English is passable.”
Her father had taken her fishing on many occasions. It had taught an impetuous girl how to be patient. While she was still very much learning that particular lesson, she understood the value in times like these. She’d said her piece, or at least a fraction of it. Now it was his turn.
“There is no need, your English is perfect, Tarja. Feel free to take a breath or two though.” William smiled softly, his lips curling in amusement as they rested against the edge of his glass for a moment before he finally took another sip of his mixed drink. Just listening to her made his own nerves about this whole thing fade; it was nice to see that she at least cared about making this work; his only thought was that it wouldn’t have hurt for her to slow down for a moment or two. So much of what she said, which he had greatly appreciated hearing, sounded as if it had come spilling out like some kind of high-pressure oil spill. “I will admit...I wasn’t expecting someone so upfront; it’s not something that anyone told me about you. Most people around the court are skilled at the art of subterfuge. Needless to say, face value is mighty rare ‘round these parts,” he shrugged. “If there’s one thing I can promise you, it's that I won’t keep anything from you, Tarja. I can’t say I have much experience...but I can only assume that secrets are relatively equivalent to poison.”
Taking another sip of his drink, William set it aside and gave her a more serious look. “I just want to say that I’m sure I’m not who you had in mind for a spouse.” The prince almost paused at that. Never in his life had he really been the first choice when it came to anything; as the second son in a prominent line, people would only look to him if and when it became necessary, which grew more unlikely every day. “But I want this to be a good marriage if at all possible, regardless; I’d like it to work. Neither of us should be unhappy just because of the decisions that our families made.” He paused and then took a deep breath of his own. “If we’re going to clear the air before we move on, I suppose I should address my own elephant in the room: the fact that I’ve been married and divorced once already. It’s not something I’m proud of, and I do hope to avoid a repeat, if at all possible.” William said with a wry kind of smile before he finished off to the rest of his vodka highball.
Setting the empty glass aside, the prince returned his attention to Tarja. It was hard not to let his eyes linger on anything in particular. Though he had heard much of the woman, and seen her image before, nothing really could compare to how beautiful she was in real life. She was the kind of woman he would have desperately wanted to approach if he saw her at a party, only to chicken out or for someone else to swoop in and steal the show. If not for the intervention of his family, the chances were good that he would have never even been in the same room as Tarja. The prince knew he would lucky to have a princess like her at his side, especially if she was as candid then as she was now.
Tarja dipped her head in a bit of a nod. “I value honesty. As you say, it’s a rare commodity in our part of the world. So...thank you. As for your past marriage: these things happen.” It wasn't common in Alemarr, as no-fault divorce didn’t exist, but in cases of adultery by the wife, it happened. There was certainly something of a double standard. It had to be particularly egregious for a wife to be able to file.
“Indeed they do. My grandmother always said that we should just do what we can and then can the rest; life happens whether we like it or not.” He chuckled in wry agreement. “Still though, it’s almost sad in a way that we’re thanking each other for being honest, don’t you think?” He mused for a moment before going silent. Of course, William had grown up in the courts; he understood the reasons that people kept secrets and met in private corners, or even bedchambers that they had no business being in. Secrets were just as powerful as favors were. As it was, he knew enough to sink the careers of more than a few noblemen and women in his own realm - not that he had any inclination to do so.
She finished her drink. It had been good enough that she would have poured herself another glass...but Anna had absconded with the bottle. So far, she barely felt it. Even a solid drink or two didn’t do her any good these days, a sign that she probably ought to slow down—not that Tarja really knew the meaning of the words. She rose to her feet and went over to the bar, setting the glass down on top of it and collecting her thoughts. It wasn’t a bad deal, if William was who he seemed to be. He was honest, good-looking, and reasonable. Hopefully he could survive the wild that she brought with her. She made herself a martini in the proper glass. Generating a few dishes was a small side effect of using proper manners.
“You should give yourself more credit, Prince William,” she said while her back was to him .She wasn’t going to use just his name without invitation. It was something she was sensitive to, as an Alemarran. “You cut a rather dashing figure in that uniform. And for your information, I really had no idea what I might want in a spouse. Planning has never been my forte. So please, don’t consider yourself a troll.” She turned around once she had her drink, studying William for a moment. “Do you ever dance, or are Alemarrans the only ones who still do that at parties?”
“If I’m not going to call you countess than you don’t have to call me prince, you know. My name will work just fine.” The prince teased as he languidly rose from his seat. Though he didn’t want to impede on her personal space, he figured that he might as well fetch a refill as well. “I can’t have all the glory, though; I barely hold a candle compared to you, Tarja.” He added with a warm smile as he reached the bar. Putting long arms to use, he easily snatched an expensive bottle of vodka and lemon lime soda. “I guess I could say the same thing, in a way. I knew that my marriage would always be arranged so...I never really thought about what I wanted in a person. I wanted love at one time, it looks so great in the movies, but it's a bit harder to come by when you’re put in the situation that we are.”
Taking a sip of his freshly minted drink, the prince hummed thoughtfully for a moment before giving Tarja a small smirk. “My people may be barbarians compared to yours, but we can at least keep up on our dancing skills. If you’re inviting me to the floor though, just let me warn you that I was born with two left feet.”
“I am a thoroughly impractical creature, and so I’ve chased love a time or two. I think we all do in our own ways, seldom aware of what may come of it. But that’s altogether too philosophical a train of thought for me. Vapid though it may be, I try not to dwell. There are too many delightful future mistakes to enjoy to focus overmuch on the past ones.” Tarja took a deep sip from her martini and then smiled. There was a bit of an impish good humor in it as she buried her worries with an expert’s flair. “They say you can tell a great deal about someone by how they dance, Herra of the Left Feet. Shall we waltz?”
Tarja had always enjoyed dancing, though it had been a while since she had the opportunity at a formal function. After her father died, she tended to steer clear of the dance floor on most nights. She had other priorities at most noble events, at least since she’d stepped up into a titled role. It was unfortunate to have gossip and backbiting suddenly become one of the more important parts of her life, but unavoidable if she was going to serve as head of her family. She wished that it hadn’t fallen on her sister now. Still, nothing could be done. Her most recent dance partner had actually been Seija, who had needed to learn a rather more complicated waltz and her father hadn’t been around to teach her. It was easy enough to take the leader’s part and coach, though it had become considerably more difficult after the better part of two fifths. A night of being a pair of giggling girls who’d had rather a lot of vermouth had been a nice way to escape her unofficial exile to Shalum. The hard drinking hadn’t hit until the night before her flight to Silua. Poor Seija was probably still recovering from the hangover.
“The Rajakreivi is the one who taught me to dance,” Tarja said to make conversation as she held out a hand to him. “I used to stand on his feet and he would waltz me around the dining room to the tune of one of his old record players. Terribly old-fashioned man. It drove my rather more modern mother up the wall, but then again, he was quite a bit older than her. One of those charming May-December affairs. It’s a wonder it didn’t end in a murder, in all honesty, but I think he made her laugh more than he made her want to strangle him.”
“Well I can only hope that you’ll feel the same way about me, Tarja. You’re going to know where I sleep, after all, and it would be terribly tragic for someone as young as me to go so soon.” He teased her softly in reply as he took her hand. Without thinking, he gently interlaced his fingers with her’s, an old habit after dancing with his wife so many years ago. “It’s been a long time since I took the floor, I must admit. I’ve buried myself in work for so long that I don’t make much time for home or parties, something I will have to correct in the near future.” He admitted with a soft smile, rolling his shoulders. “My mother taught me when I was young too, though I was a bit too old to stand on her feet - ten or eleven, I think. At the time, I was being a bit too much like any other boy; I didn’t want to spend all day dancing around the room one with my mother to old music I didn’t really like. Looking back on it though, it was a pretty good day, not to mention the fact that it leads to moments like this.” He smiled and gently nudged Tarja with his bony hip.
"Before we begin..." William said, pausing for a moment to fetch his phone from his pocket. Flicking through the apps, he was quiet for a few moments before the soft sounds of ballroom music began to waft through the room. "Much of the palace is hooked up to programs that you can control. Sometimes when I do online courses, I like to come in here and put on music while I work." He explained with a smile. Outstretching his hand to Tarja, the prince smiled warmly. "Now, shall we get to it, my dear?" He asked, putting on his most rakish, charming tone for comedic effect.
“Fascinating,” Tarja said of the apps. She’d absolutely expected not to have music, but this added to the atmosphere of...something. “I do love parties, but I don’t know if I will feel quite as enchanted by them without the little cadre of wild things I grew up with. Though I imagine it’s likely for the best, considering the kind of trouble we got up to.” If William hadn’t heard the story of how she and a few friends had begun a night at a soirée with rather a lot of liquor and ended up in possession of a constable’s helmet, a borrowed-without-permission sportscar, and a rather stern talking to from the chief of police, she wasn’t going to enlighten him. Tarja had good friends—the ones who had bailed her out of trouble before her parents found out—and best friends, who had been right there with her.
When the Shalumite prince used his most rakish tone, the impish smile widened slightly. “It would be my pleasure, William. Lead on.” Tarja never minded taking the follower’s role, though she generally made it a point to know both halves of every dance. A simple waltz would keep her busy enough that she didn’t start to ruminate too much and kept things light. She had always been a good enough dancer that she offered confidence and ease to her partners. She was confident in her movements, or at least self-assured. It also gave her the opportunity to study William. If one could tell a great deal about someone by how they danced, she looked forward to learning a little bit about him.
Despite his nerves of earlier, there was nothing tense about William’s body as he gently led his fiancee back and forth through the room. It felt strange at first, admittedly, but like riding a bicycle, he slowly fell back into old moves and habits. There was nothing demanding about him or his ways, aside from the fact that he kept her closer against him than was probably acceptable for a first meeting. They did not touch, but one wouldn’t have been able to slip more than a few sheets of paper between them. He wasn’t trying to be overly aggressive, but some part of the prince wanted to show Tarja that he could lead when he needed to. “You move well, Tarja.” He murmured as his chocolate eyes flicked over her figure, lingering on the curves hidden beneath the layers of her dress for a moment before he mentally reprimanded himself. “Perhaps we’ll have to invite these wild things of yours to the palace sometime. We have more rooms in the palace than anyone would ever need, making a little space for them would be no issue,” he added with a wink.
Just because they would be married did not mean that he would limit who she could or could not see.
“Why thank you. I do try,” Tarja said with a smile. She had no objection to the closeness even though they weren’t well acquainted. They were going to be married, after all, and William wasn’t someone she would take offense or objection to anyway. If anything, it spoke volumes to her as far as what his opinion of her was. He wasn’t being stiff or standoffish, which was better than she’d hoped. She followed his lead without issue, not feeling the need to be bullish. “As for the wild bunch...well, they are still Alemarran snobs, so they might not fully appreciate Shalum. Not that I’m any sort of expert on your country...or my own, for that matter. Besides, I can’t imagine your family would appreciate the bar bill or news reports, nor would Lydia appreciate having to wrangle more than just me. I am aware that I can be rather…trying at times.”
Tarja couldn’t help a little grin at the thought, though. “In Alemarr, there’s a certain...understanding between the nobility and the press. The culture vultures get thrown a bone now and then in some scandal or other, but the normal press doesn’t much cover the dirty laundry of the upper echelons of society. You see all that laid bare in the society pages, which tend to be read mostly by the upper middle and noble classes. There are different sort of...gossip spheres.” She left it unsaid that she had actually had the great fortune and misfortune to be in multiple at once. There was honestly so much betrayal and scandal in Alemarran politics that it had only been a blip on the radar for a month or two—a long time for them, certainly, but easily missed by outsiders. “This may come as a surprise to you, but I look at the Shalumite court and see something almost anarchic in its liberation. My mother would have had a heart-attack, if she knew what was happening outside her room these days.”
Ansa Cederström, Rajakreivitär of Naantali, was no longer the woman she had been, between illness and the grief that came from losing her husband. She was still technically the ranking member of the family, but the Dowager was in no condition to socialize or run the household and so it had fallen on Tarja for quite some time. The countess sincerely doubted that her mother would even be alive for her wedding, the woman’s condition was so delicate. In some ways, that made it very difficult to be gone, and in other ways, it made it a relief. She’d never been close to her mother, but there was still pain in not being recognized by a face that was so familiar. Jenna would do her best, and she was far more responsible and capable than Tarja had ever been.
The reminder of things at home made her wistful for the good old days more than it stung. She kept those thoughts locked very deep, however. Any time she let them out, it always made her want a drink...not that wanting a drink was anything unusual for her. She studied William’s expression for a moment with eyes that were faintly grateful. “I appreciate you being understanding, William. It is hard to be in a new country, yes, but your willingness to tolerate some of my idiosyncrasies and possibly my feral friends makes it somewhat easier. I hope that I can extend you similar courtesies as time goes by.”
Looking down at the woman in his arms, the prince couldn’t help but smile warmly as his chocolate eyes drank in her in. For a short moment, his arms pulled her a bit tighter as he deftly guided them away from a coffee table and back towards an empty part of the sunroom. “As a prince, it is a duty for me to serve - whether it be the people of my realm or guests of my household. As a person, however, it is a pleasure for me to accommodate my wife, even if we aren’t technically married yet.” He replied with a chuckle. “If and when you ever decide to invite your friends, don’t fret over the details, not if you really care about them. No matter how much hell they raise, or alcohol they drink, I’ll be happy to cover for you. This palace could use some life at night, for the day is filled with stifling noble affairs.” He added with a chuckle.
As they danced, William was tempted to give her a little twirl, one of the few moves that he was actually capable of conducting. Yet, as he peered down at her, he felt far too comfortable keeping her close as she was. For years he had been all but starved of close human contact, and despite the fact that this all had been arranged, it was nice to relish in it, if only for a few moments. It didn’t escape him that it wouldn’t last forever; though Tarja was tolerating him in the here and now, he didn’t imagine that she would be eager to make this anything akin to a regular occurrence. Even a kind soul had limits, and he could only assume that she’d rather spend her time elsewhere—they all did sooner or later, he had learned over the years.
“I wouldn’t worry about accommodating my needs too much though, truly. I’m...easy to maintain, I imagine. I’ve always been one to keep to myself, and I’ve always managed to keep myself busy at work. Until now, coming home every night hasn’t even been a concern, not when I can just set up a cot in my office.” He admitted with a shrug. Truthfully, his fall in the noble courts’ eyes hadn’t exactly helped him. Though he was a prince, he was still the second son. So long as Matthew was around, nobles didn’t exactly have to waste time courting him, not that William was inclined to parlay with them in the first place. “I appreciate it, though. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time to adapt to one another.”
“Speaking of that,” he added after a moment of thoughtful silence. “I don’t want to bring up something that would be seen as work, so feel free to stop me. But...any thoughts for our wedding itself? I’ve always preferred the idea of slipping away to the nearest courthouse and getting it done quickly and quietly, without all the pomp and ceremony that comes with most ceremonies. No doubt my relatives would have heart attacks at such impropriety,” he mused softly. “Regardless, I was just curious about how you feel or if there’s anything I can do to make things better somehow,” he explained with a warm smile.
“Thoughtful and charming,” Tarja said with a teasing tone. She was pleasantly surprised at how considerate William was being—not that she’d necessarily expected him to be boorish. Granted, people often had many layers and they could seem quite friendly or dependable while being anything but. That said, she was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. “I think I’m marrying up in the world. As for the wedding...I’m sure I could be persuaded to aim for something small and private. I doubt I could escape with no ceremony, particularly without a church, whether I liked it or not. Appearances and all that. It would absolutely murder Lydia if we eloped or something like that. She was very adamant that I let her handle whatever wedding planning there was and she can be so terribly proper about things.”
She took a breath and let it out in a sigh. “Regretfully and thankfully, my family won’t be in attendance whatever we do. My erstwhile cousin is quite certain—correctly, might I add—that I aim to shoot him if he shows his face around me and Jenna is busy dealing with the hot mess I dumped into her lap when I left. I did try to put a bow on it, but she wasn’t particularly thrilled all the same. And of course there are the thousand other family ties, but they’re busy ripping each other’s throats out while Her Imperial Majesty tries to do something productive over the top of them. The inner workings of Alemarr are enough to choke a jackal sometimes.”
Tarja gave the hand that was holding hers as they waltzed a small squeeze. “You are making it better, my dear man. Asking me what I want is more than anyone else involved in all this business has done, at least from my point of view.”
The prince nodded in understanding, a little thrill shooting through him as she tightened her grip for a moment. Her responses, ever so positive, were certainly reassuring signs that she was receptive to him—not that she hadn’t been already. “Unfortunately, I have to admit that it doesn’t really surprise me. I’ve always steered clear of the negotiations that come with marriage contracts, but I can only assume that you...didn’t get much say in the matter.” He surmised with a small, sigh-like breath. “I plan to do a lot more of that in the future, you know? Asking questions and your opinion on things,” he explained with a teasing smile. “It takes two to tango—or waltz—after all.”
“As far as the wedding goes, I know my mother wanted to be involved in the planning; as long as it's done in a Catholic church though, she’ll be pretty flexible. It would be scandalous for a Shalumite royal, especially a prince like myself, not to be married in the eyes of God.” He explained with a small shrug. “I’d prefer something smaller, a bit more personal. My brother Matthew is going to have hundreds of guests, mostly people he barely knows or hasn’t even met before; I don’t really want that, is all. I want the people at my wedding to be people that I, well, can at least say I’ve spoken to for more than five minutes.” He added as they danced. “I’m sorry that your family won’t be able to attend...but I understand all the same. Are there any friends, at least, who you would like to invite?” He asked hopefully. William wanted her to have someone there who cared about her, more than just her maid-friend if at all possible.
Tarja contemplated that for a moment. She had plenty of friends, but few that occupied such an intimate position in her life. It was self-defense among Alemarran nobility to carefully select and censor what people saw of her. Lydia, Jenna, and Seija were her exceptions. If she asked, she knew that her sister would drop everything to be there. However, that was strain on their mother that didn’t need to be there, and so she would refrain. It would pass as long as she sent pictures and promised to introduce William to her sister at some point. “I really wouldn’t trust most of the lot of them not to raise a ruckus of some kind, but Seija Målagård said she would come before I even asked her. She’s the daughter of the Kreivi of Salo. We’ve been the best of friends for more than ten years now and she knows me better than anyone, yet still manages to somehow put up with me. It will be good to see her again.” She nodded a little bit, mentally picking through the guest list. There were a few others, but she’d already asked Seija to be her maid of honor and it would have been unthinkable to not have her there. “I can think of a few others as well. I’d definitely prefer something small. If there’s no fanfare, there’s no excuse for the relatives I don’t like to show up.”
She gave him a little smile. “If you ask me anything, I will do my best to answer honestly. It’s what I do, frequently whether people like it or not. In vino veritas and all that charming rubbish. I don’t plan on being unhappy, not that anyone ever does, but when I can make things better, I try to. So while there are going to be bumps in the road and maybe the occasional washout, I’m willing to see where it takes us.”
The prince nodded and smiled as he slowly turned them in a circle. It was afternoon by now and light eagerly streamed through the room, only to catch is fiancee’s voluminous hair in a wonderful way that brought out the sheer beauty of her face. “If she is that important then I truly look forward to meeting her, I imagine it takes someone of great resolve to stick by your side after everything,” he teased. “Whoever you want to invite, don’t hesitate, really; my family has more money than anyone will ever need, they won’t even think twice to kick in extra if it is an issue for some reason,” he assured her. William wouldn’t even mind if any expenses came from his own pocket; they would be her accounts as well soon enough. “On my side, expect my parents and all of my siblings to show up. John is probably the only one who won’t make it; his wife is very pregnant right about now, and I don’t imagine her being all that keen on traveling up from Azura. The only wildcard may be my father and who he invites. There is no doubt in my mind that he’ll want at least a few of his core supporters and advisers there. Even so, we should be able to keep things pretty small,” he assured her with a smile.
The prince’s expression mirrored her own. “I’ll admit that I was quite nervous about meeting you. After everything that I’ve been through in the past, I hope you don’t blame for being a bit wary of the second time around.” He paused as his smile grew a bit. “I’m...I’m not as nervous now. We’ll see where everything goes, for better or worse, I’m sure that we’ll find a way to make the most of it.” William chuckled, teeth gleaming happily as they danced to the soft sounds of a violin and its accompanying pieces. “I’m afraid I’m mostly out of serious questions. Unless you have any to speak of...any hobbies? Surely you can’t stay drunk all of the time,” he smirked.
“You would be surprised,” Tarja murmured, only half joking. Most of the time she could keep an even keel of at least relative sobriety, albeit with the nights generally ending in a less-than-sober fashion, but whenever she hit a bump or a snag, there was invariably a bender that could last up to days at a time. “But yes, I do have a few hobbies. Nobility certainly breeds leisure time if nothing else. I used to ride rather a lot, and of course there was the hiking, skiing, and all those lovely outdoor hobbies. A bit of dancing too, though more for practical purposes than a real fascination. Still, I think of myself as having naturally athletic inclinations generally crushed into submission by my voluminous list of less...admirable characteristics. I also read, as it does rain sometimes and a noble is expected to be educated. I enjoyed most of the classics, though there are certain authors I could do without.”
She sighed slightly, relaxing just a touch more as they moved. They were well towards the end of a waltz. Tarja was just enjoying it, though if it ended, she could have her martini. That didn’t sound like such a terrible thought. “And what about you, William?” She wasn’t certain what his answer would be, given his comments about work. Would she see him much, if at all, if they were married? Would that be a bad thing or a good thing? Tarja couldn’t say that she liked the sound of a bed that would be empty for the rest of her life. Then again, if they ended up fighting something fierce…
Tarja hoped it wouldn’t come to that. For all her flaws, she did want things to work as well as they could. If they were going to be together until death—and Tarja did take vows seriously—then it would be best if it was going to be amicable. She knew not to expect romance, but as Seija pointed out, perhaps she could create some of her own. If nothing else, it would be sugar to help the medicine go down. The Alemarran noble liked to think that she had at least a passingly accurate sense for people, and William seemed like a good man.
The prince nodded as he listened, jotting down mental notes about his wife-to-be as they danced. He knew that their dance was coming to an end between the denouement of the musical piece in the background and the dwindling list of moves that he had at his disposal. When the tables were turned, he couldn’t help but chuckle quietly. “I’m afraid I’m always been a bit boring compared to someone like my father or older brother, but some of our interests seem to intersect. The outdoors have always been a wonderful place, though my time in the service has taught me to appreciate the finer aspects of climate controlled environments. In my offtime, I do read a good bit - whether it be current events or great literary works. Though they’re enjoyable, I’ve began to move away from historical books to more modern, fictitious ones. Things that are both entertaining, and a bit easier to identify with - not that I can’t see the value in older works,” he explained with a slight shrug.
Glancing down at his uniform for a moment, William then continued as he glanced back up to meet her eyes. “I will admit that work has cut down on my free time - a wound that is purely self-inflicted.” After his divorce years prior, throwing himself into work had been his way of trying to forget everything that had transpired; there was nothing stopping him from cutting his schedule down in a more conventional nine-to-five or perhaps even something less. “I was planning on correcting that, however. There are quite a few people at work whom I could delegate more of my duties to, if you wouldn’t mind your husband being around more often, that is.” He smiled slightly at the implication. “In fact...I was wondering if you’d be interested in going out in the near future, after you’re settled in? Though I’m sure you and I have different definitions of such—I’ve never enjoyed clubs much—it would be my honor to show you around the city.” He drawled with an easy smile as the last notes of the song came through the speakers softly.
Tarja stepped away from him with almost a hint of reluctance, returning to her martini for a moment. A deep sip brought her thoughts back to center. “I’d be delighted to see the city. I can always designate the unpacking to Lydia—I already have, come to think of it—so my schedule is quite free. If the people of Shalum are going to be my people, I’d be best served learning about them, and an afternoon or evening spent with my fiancé sounds enjoyable.”
Slowly taking a place by her side at the bar, William plucked his highball from the wooden countertop and took a slow sip. The apple vodka mixed so well with the lemon lime soda, and he couldn’t help but silently relish in it for a moment before he smiled down at his Alemarran cohort. “Indeed it does. I can think of a good few places we could visit—restaurants, shops, parks, and the like. Aragon is such a big city that we can slip away into it without much of a fuss; I’m not sure how Alemarr is, but I doubt the average person on the street will even recognize us,” he said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes; over the years, he and his siblings had become quite adept at slipping into the capital without so little as a hint of detection. “I’m sure Anna will take it upon herself to show you the best of the city’s nightlife, just give her some time to sleep for.” He added with a chuckle.
Already, William was running through all the things they could do in his head. He’d only gone on a handful of dates in his life, but he liked to think that he at least understood how they worked. There was no shortage of five star restaurants and world class fashion houses based out of the city, but he wasn’t sure if she would want to visit those or not. “Since spring is finally rolling around, maybe we should slip off to the beach sometime as well, if you’re interested? I don’t suppose that Alemarr has much beachfront property,” he joked, “and I’m starting to grow tired of the indoor palace pool already.” William explained with a smile. He’d always enjoyed the water...and would have been lying if he said that he didn’t want to see Tarja in a swimsuit at some point. “Just another idea, anyways.” He shrugged, trying to play off some of the less proper ideas that flickered through his mind.
“The beach would be lovely. Unfortunately, Alemarr doesn’t have much of a beachfront. It’s all rocky shores, cold water, and frequent storms. Pretty when it snows, of course, but not the sort of place where you want to walk in the surf and collect sea shells—though you can find amber in it sometimes,” Tarja said with a small smile. She was grateful that Aragon would be another place she could disappear into if she needed to, though she would have to learn how to blend all over again. She had passed herself off as a member of the middle class in Alemarr, but she had a cultural frame of reference there. “Perhaps dinner tonight and a bit of exploration? As delightful as the beach sounds, we’ll likely want to wait for a nice warm day....not that I know what the weather is like here in Shalum.”
“The northern coast of Shalum is like that. Needless to say, I’ve never been brave enough to actually swim in it.” He said with an amused inflection. “Dinner tonight sounds good. That’ll give me some time to change into something a bit more comfortable, and will give that Lydia of yours a chance to unpack. The beach can wait for another day.” He affirmed with a smile, before taking a long sip of his highball. “The running joke we have here, especially in spring, is that if you don’t like the weather in the Empire - just wait fifteen minutes and it’ll change. We had a warm, wet winter; I don’t think it got below four celsius this year. Give it another week and it’ll be beach weather for sure,” he chuckled. “Until then, you’ll just have to tolerate me in long sleeves,” William teased.
“Such a shame,” Tarja said with a wink. She finished her martini, collecting her thoughts as she did so. She had spent most of her life around charming, attractive people. Alemarr didn’t have crass, unpleasant nobles, at least in the public eye. William was...different. Not in the sense that he wasn’t charming—he very much was, in that shy sort of way—but it felt oddly...sincere. Her father told her a thousand times to listen to her gut, to the visceral feelings that people gave her.
William was a good one. Maybe she was wrong, but Tarja trusted her instincts after a lifetime of navigating Jyväskylä. “Dinner, then,” she said, giving William a bright smile. “I will leave it to you to make the plans and submit to the incessant fretting of my overwrought handmaiden. Thank you for listening, William. There aren’t many people in the world like you. I look forward to getting to know you better. For now, though, I’d best go and unpack.” She had a great deal to think about, even from so little time.