The Letter V

Nathan was struck by how much his brother looked the part of a King.

Edmund was regal-looking as he fidgeted in his clothes, looking at himself sadly in the mirror. He and Nathan were alone in his dressing room while Callum and Daniel wandered the halls looking for women. Nathan, however, had the feeling that Edmund was having a difficult time, even if he didn’t say it - of course he wouldn’t say it. Yet he knew his brother had something on his mind.

The elder prince leaned down and took a healthy swig of ale. He held it in the air toward Nathan in a half-assed attempt at a toast. “Cheers, mate!” he slurred, “To a lifetime of responsibility!” He then proceeded to down the contents of the glass before slamming it back down on the table.

The younger brother held a glass of his own loosely in his hand, but took only a small sip from it. He wasn’t sure he should be condoning this kind of behavior, but it was at least amusing in the comfort of their privacy. And, to be sure, Edmund wouldn’t be further than an arm’s reach for most of the ceremony, so Nathan wasn’t particularly worried. But as the ceremony grew closer, he thought perhaps it was best that they cut back.

Nathan sighed and picked up Edmund’s glass. “Perhaps you should sit, brother.”

Edmund nodded, disoriented, and slumped back onto a red velvet chair that sat behind him. “God, I wish Cassandra were here right now,” he said sadly, looking down at himself in a suggestive manner. “She’s got a few things to take care of, if y’know what I mean.”

Nathan rolled his eyes. “You’ll be married tonight, Edmund. That naturally comes with the territory.”

“But Cassandra is ravishing, don’t you think? She would make a wonderful Queen.”

“Penelope. You’re marrying Penelope.” Really, he shouldn’t have to keep reminding him of this. Edmund hadn’t stopped talking about Cassandra all morning - it was beginning to be worrisome. He needed to stop doing that once he was in public.

Edmund’s face suddenly lit up as though he had gotten a brilliant idea. “Or - Or you could marry Penelope, and then I could marry Cassandra,” he said excitedly, looking Nathan up and down.

The younger prince raised an eyebrow skeptically, but didn’t bother to dignify that with a response. In truth, there was nothing wrong with Penelope, per se. She was a beautiful, nice girl from a wealthy family - she would make a fine princess, perhaps even a good one. She might even make a good Queen, with some training. But he didn’t fancy her, not in the way he wanted to fancy the person he would be married to - perhaps he was beginning to understand what Edmund was going through. He didn’t want to think about his own potential nuptials, since he was certain that they would come about sooner rather than later, if he knew his mother well enough.

No, today was about his brother’s misery, not his own.

Nathan grabbed his golden-plated mask and slipped it on gracefully. “Alright, brother, that’s enough. Time to go.”

He reached down and scooped Edmund up by his armpits, standing him up on his feet. This wasn’t a particularly easy task, given the elder brother’s size, but Nathan had the advantage of not being completely inebriated. Once on his feet, Edmund swayed slightly and let out a small burp, but made no other indication that he was drunk out of his mind.

“That’ll do,” Nathan mumbled to himself before coaxing Edmund out the door.

As they walked toward the chapel, Nathan caught side of a small herd of bridesmaids flittering about the hallways. There were four of them - one with striking red hair, one small one, one mousy-looking. The fourth hung back a bit, away from the others, staring down shyly at her bouquet. Her hair hung in golden ringlets down her back, over her tanned shoulders.

No, he thought, poking Edmund in the back with just enough pressure to keep him walking forward. It can’t be.

As the fourth girl turned to face him from down the hallway, he caught the gaze of her unmistakeable eyes. There was a glint of light from the base of her throat - he could just barely make out the shape of a small gold necklace. He had no doubt it was in the shape of a flower.

Violet, what on earth?

At that moment, Edmund chose to walk himself into a wall. “Oi! Watch where I’m going!”

Nathan shook his head and turned his attention to his brother. He didn’t know how or why Violet was dressed as a bridesmaid, but that issue would have to wait until he could afford to let himself worry about his own problems. For today, at least, he had to focus on Edmund’s problems. What was she thinking?

The younger prince guided his brother along the hallways, stopping every so often at the request of the drunken groom. After what seemed like hours, they finally made their way to the chapel in the center of the palace. To call it a chapel was almost an insult - the inside of it was immense, practically the size of a cathedral. It was lined in stained glass windows the likes of which many of the townsfolk had ever seen, and the rest of the inside was gilded in gold. It was a room he’d hardly ever been to, save for special occasions like this one. Nathan could hear the babbling of the impatient crowd on the other side of the massive doors. Where the hell were Daniel and Callum?

Edmund planted himself on a wall outside the door, taking a moment to sigh dramatically.

Nathan tapped him on the shoulder, annoyed. “The ceremony is about to start, Ed,” he reminded him, “We need to go in there.”

In a sudden moment of clarity, Edmund grabbed a fistful of Nathan’s jacket, and pulled him closer to him. Nate stared at him, wide-eyed, amazed by the sudden show of strength from his drunken brother. “I don’t want to do this,” he said, his voice shaking.

In truth, Nathan had never seen his brother look scared. He had always known Edmund to be fearless - perhaps to a fault, if anything was to be said about him. He never let anything stop him from doing what he wanted. It was a trait that Nathan admittedly didn’t share with him, and growing up he had admired it in his older brother, at least a little. Edmund had always struck him as the kind of man who wasn’t afraid of anything.

But this, in that moment - that was pure terror on his face.

“You have to do this,” Nathan said gently, trying to untangle his shirt from Edmund’s grip. “You can’t keep having these second thoughts. There’s a lot of people counting on this, Edmund. Counting on you.”

The older prince looked as though he was in pain. Nathan could tell something was off - there was a piece of this puzzle he was missing, but without knowing what it was, he wasn’t sure it could be fixed in time. “You don’t understand,” he said softly, barely above a whisper.

In that instant, Nathan could hear it - it was the sound of heartbreak.

“Perhaps not,” Nathan said, this time a little more sternly. “But I do understand this. You owe it to those people to do this. To become King. They deserve a King like you.” Nathan reached out to smooth out Edmund’s shirt and his hair, which had managed to become disheveled since they’d left his chambers. “And if that’s not enough for you - do it for Penelope. No matter what you feel for her, she deserves this more than you know.”

Edmund and Nathan exchanged glances. They both knew the truth in Nathan’s words - perhaps he was the wiser of the two of them after all.

“This is it, Edmund,” Nathan continued, guiding his brother in front of the massive doors. “What kind of King will you be?”

Edmund paused for what seemed like forever, gazing at the wood grain on the doors. Then, slowly, he reached up and tugged his own jacket into place. He smoothed his own hair back. He stood up straight, and set his shoulders back. He sent one look back to Nathan - in that instant, he looked authoritative, completely in control of himself.

He looked like a King.

And with that, he threw open the doors.



The ceremony had been lavish, but Violet had to admit that it had been impossibly boring. By the time the reception had rolled around, her feet had begun to hurt, and she felt as though she was having a hard time breathing with this corset cinched so tight around her waist. As of yet, no one had recognized her - no one except Penelope, who was stealing glances at her handiwork from time to time.

It was unsurprising, though - no one was looking at anyone except the happy couple, Penelope in particular. She looked absolutely regal, standing up in her white gown next to Edmund as they said their vows. She commanded respect with grace and beauty - and it hadn’t escaped the eye of the Queen, who looked on enviously from the front row. Even Edmund seemed to be in awe of Penelope on her wedding day. She was a princess, and there was no doubt in the minds of all of the people in the room that the young couple were absolutely fit to be royals, at least in looks.

Violet was watching Penelope carefully through the ceremony, so carefully that she hadn’t noticed Nathan on the other side of the altar, trying to forcefully get her to pay attention.

What was she thinking? Nathan thought furiously. He had a sword clamped in one of his hands - an antiquated ceremonial necessity - and found himself gripping it tighter.

Violet wasn’t a lady of the court - that privilege was held for noble women, women of educated upbringing. Granted, it was Penelope’s choice who would stand there to represent her - to an extent, of course. The Queen had to approve the list months ago. There were four men and four women in the wedding party besides the bride and groom. Of the men, Nathan, Callum, Daniel, and Roman stood by the prince’s side, while Penelope had a handful of girls she had gone to school with. Nathan couldn’t fathom how Violet got in there, given that she hadn’t been educated. It would cause an uproar if anyone were to put it together - her only saving grace was her mask.

Before long, the ceremony was over - which meant that the party was beginning.

The reception was to be held in the grand ballroom of the palace. It was the crown jewel of Alvandor, a great room lined with towering windows and balconies that looked out onto the palace garden. If there were any room that could rival the beauty of the chapel, it was the ballroom - the wallpaper was a magnificent burgundy baroque pattern, trimmed absolutely everywhere with gold. Just standing in the room was an intoxicating experience of wealth unlike Violet had ever seen.

Granted, she had been in the ballroom before. There were many events she had served at in the past - but this was different. She was a guest this time - she was here to celebrate the marriage of the future king and his queen. It was as though her world had just been turned upside down.

In the middle of the room was a massive parquet floor. On one side of the ballroom, away from the windows, a group of musicians were planted - and they began to play, a soft, melodious sound that made Violet want to cry. There had to be twenty - ten, maybe? - violinists, a handful of piano players, two massive harps - she’d never even seen a harp before, much less heard one. It was a scene out of one of the fairytales Nathan had read to her.

Violet was suddenly struck by a smell she knew all too well - lemon pastries. She had known that they were being prepared for the event, but she was suddenly consumed with hunger. Before she knew what she was doing, she reached out and plucked one from the tray of a nearby server.

As she pulled her hand away, she realized with a start that it was Carletta who was carrying it.

Carletta turned to her with her usual service smile. Not genuine, but not offensive - Violet knew it well, since she’d taught it to her. Violet could feel her heart beating in her ears as Carletta looked her up and down, squinting slightly, like she recognized her from somewhere, but couldn’t place where.

Violet did not want to have that conversation, not right now. “Thank you!” She said quickly, grabbing a second lemon pastry and ducking into the crowd.

She weaved her way through the well-dressed crowd, downing a pastry almost immediately. She relished the warm, sweet bite, but wasn’t able to for long. While she was used to maneuvering through crowds like this while she was serving, she found that the dress was obscenely hard to move in - not that she was particularly good at moving around in dresses to begin with.

Violet found a spot in the middle of the ballroom, hidden behind a towering curtain of fabric that was used as a curtain for the massive windows. She paused there for a second to catch her breath and devour the second dessert she’d snagged. She marvelled at the skyline outside - it had been a cloudy day, but she could tell there was a storm on the horizon by looking out over the palace grounds. She only hoped it wouldn’t trap all these guests here for too long - that would mean a tremendous amount of work for the staff.

She was jolted out of her thoughts by a deep, masculine voice, and a light hand on her shoulder.

“Evening,” the voice said. Violet whirled around to see a muscular-looking man that she found vaguely familiar, but couldn’t place. “Might I say, you look absolutely stunning.”

He had on a black satin mask, which drew her attention to his striking blue eyes. She didn’t know those eyes, she thought. She had been unintentionally hoping it was someone else, although she wasn’t sure who. But he seemed polite enough.

Violet bowed her head in acknowledgement. Was that - was she supposed to do that? Or was she supposed to curtsey? That would be something she should know, right?

“T-Thank you,” she said quietly, hoping not to draw the attention of the people milling about closely.

The man offered her a smile. He wasn’t all that unattractive, she gathered - he had short hair, shorter than most, and seemed altogether like one of the younger members of the event. Suddenly she realized why he was familiar - he had been one of Edmund’s gentlemen during the ceremony.

“Dawes,” he said, gently taking Violet’s hand. He leaned down into a gratuitous bow and proceeded to kiss the back of it, before returning to his standing position. “Callum Dawes. Pleased to meet the acquaintance of a magnificent creature such as yourself. Might I ask your name?”

Violet stood awkwardly, bringing her hand back to clasp it with her other one behind her back. “Vi-” she stopped herself. No, you can’t use your real name! Think! “Ella. Pleasure, as well.”

She had no idea where that name had come from, only that it had come in handy.

Callum grinned, and extended his hand toward her. “Beautiful Ella, might I have this dance?”

Violet’s eyes widened as she looked into the crowd. In the time that she had been speaking to the man, the crowd had begun to pair off and form lines along the ballroom. It was clear that one of the elaborate dances was about to begin - and there was no way for her to escape from her spot without knocking into another couple. That would only grab attention that she knew she wouldn’t be able to maintain without further questions.

But she couldn’t follow Callum out onto the dance floor either, not if she didn’t want to make an absolute fool out of herself.

In that instant, another man, one with a striking gold mask, walked up behind Callum.

“My apologies, dear friend,” Nathan said smoothly, “But I believe this woman owes me a dance first.”