Irene was no stranger to royal practices. She had seen it all, heard it all, and done it all in the twenty-four years as a princess of the Shateron Empire. So when it was finally her turn to get an arranged marriage, she had accepted without a blink of an eye. Truthfully, she had expected to be married off much earlier, but her beauty had made her father selective in his choices. Having a beautiful daughter was, after all, an extremely useful tool in negotiations.

As the handmaidens fluttered around her, dabbing and prodding at her face, Irene looked at her reflection in the gilded mirror before her. She was dressed in a dark, lavish red dress, its pure purpose to heighten her appeal and to display the wealth of her kingdom. Her gaze slowly trailed up to her face. She saw skin as white and pure as porcelain and eyes as dark as starless skies. Features chiseled to a mechanical perfection, frozen in a neutral facade. She rarely smiled. How could she, when she was to be married off to another kingdom, only treated as a pretty tool for relations?

As Irene observed the flickering candlelight that cast faint shadows on her marble-like face, a dull knock sounded at the door. It swung open shortly after to reveal an old, withering man that looked like he would crumble at a touch.

“The Cirene envoy has just arrived your highness.”

Irene forced a cordial smile onto her face.

“Yes Sir Duncan. I’ll be there shortly.”

Duncan smiled reassuringly. “There’s no need to be nervous. I’ll be there by your side as your silent source of strength.”

Irene spared him a small smile, as she watched him slowly shut the creaking door.

To her, this withering old man was her father, though not by blood. Her own father, the king, scarcely expressed affection towards her. He focused only on his kingdom, and neglected his only daughter. As a result, she found her father figure in the kingdom’s advisor, Duncan, who also served as her teacher and mentor. He taught her the proceedings and trivialities of the royal court, and the beauty of parental love.

As Irene prepared to leave her chamber, she took a final glance at the mirror. Her eyes held no hesitation, nor did her heart stutter in nervousness. Being nervous wasn’t an option. This was her royal duty as a princess, and the success of this political negotiation rested solely on her shoulders. She didn’t have the liberty to worry about who the Cirene heir was, or how he would act. She had accepted this duty since she was a young girl, even though her heart often yearned for more.

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She was immediately flanked by guards the moment she stepped past the chamber doors. The torches on the walls glinted off the glossy black armor of the knights, making them look almost hellish in the dim lighting. The faceless black shells and sharp weapons contrasted starkly with Irene’s soft beauty and flowing red dress like beetles that swarmed around a rose.

Irene had begun to lose track of how many twists and turns they had taken through the maze like halls. She had been born and raised in this castle all her life, but the unchanging appearance of the corridors occasionally even managed to make her lose her way.

As suddenly as they had started walking, they entered into a large chamber, which Irene immediately recognized to be the dining hall. It was significantly brighter, due to the grand golden chandelier that hung above the dark wooden table. The table was made to seat at least a hundred people, even though Irene had never seen more than half the seats used.

Her father, King Daniel, had already been seated at the head of table, likewise flanked with guards. He was a tall slender man, though by no means weak. A sharp face held a pair of sharp eyes, faintly lined with wrinkles. He still wore his hair was short and groomed like Irene had always seen it, though some gray streaks were present in the raven colored strands. He greeted her with a slight nod before turning away to engage in cordial conversation with a court official.

Sir Duncan was seated next to her father, as the royal court’s chief advisor. He spares Irene a quick smile, before turning joining in conversation as well.

Irene surveys the hall. Servants were rushing about with errands, while the court royals were all engaged in various conversations. She had not taken a single step, unsure for the first time that day about what to do. Preparing to make her way towards her seat next to her father, she was stopped by a dull echo that reverberated in the chamber. Another echo sounded, followed by several more, settling into a rhythm. It was the sound of marching feet, perfectly in time, increasing in volume as it neared the dining hall.

Everyone seemed to be waiting with bated breath; Irene, the royals, the guards, and the servants. The echo had risen to a dull thunder, until suddenly it multiplied with volume as the Cirene Kingdom’s envoy entered into the hall.

Irene’s eyes widened, as her lips parted in an involuntary gasp of awe. The Cirene guards, with their bright silver armor, flowed into the chamber like ripples on a moonlit lake. The silver plating seemed to catch the torchlight and shatter it into a million iridescent pieces that refracted and danced across the walls. Steam rose from the metal shells, as the heat of the castle caused the flecks of snow against the armor to melt. The guards seemed to look like scattered stars against the gray walls. Irene watched with wonder as the guards parted to either side allowing entrance for the Cirene royal family.

She first saw the King and the Queen, draped in luxurious navy robes and lustrous silver jewelry. Both had kind faces as they came forward to greet her own envoy. A smaller figure followed closely behind, swathed in a large cloak of similar color. Irene watched as the figure lifted back the hood to reveal long brown locks that framed an undeniably pretty face. It was flushed red from the cold, but it only contributed to the youth and energy of the woman. Irene was snapped from her stupor by the booming bellow from her own guards.

“Welcome your highnesses King Eric, Queen Katherine, and Princess Wendy to the Kingdom of Shateron!”

Time seemed to stand still in the hall, as the echo of the bellow reverberated and faded away. Irene fixed her gaze back onto the cloaked woman across the hall. The Cirene heir was a woman. Princess Wendy. This was her betrothed.

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It was an unsettling feeling, being flanked by rows of mute guards on both sides while seated at a dining table. Irene would've preferred it much better if both leaders called off the soldiers, but this grand display was more a show of power and wealth han a show of military strength. Both kingdoms were unwilling to back down in this silent battle to prove who had the better armor or the deadlier weapons.

Her father, King Daniel, broke the heavy silence with a raise of his glass and a toast. "To the peaceful arrival of the Cirene envoy. May our families join in good faith and good will."

The royal families raised their glasses in response, followed by the various court officials and advisors.

As Irene sipped on her wine, she scanned the people sitting on the opposite side of the table. She sat across from Queen Katherine, while she sat in the place where her mother should be if she was here today. Her mother, due to health complications, had passed when Irene was very young. King Eric sat to the left of Katherine while Princess Wendy sat to her right. Irene noticed that no other siblings accompanied Wendy, which explained the strange pairing of two women. Though not terribly rare in common marriages, it was