xxi.

KING ALEXANDER CASIMIR'S DARK FACIAL skin seemed to glow like gold caramel under the pristine yellow lights of the chandeliers gleaming overhead as Isadora Tremaine straightened to her full height slowly and met his eyes.

He stood tall, his hands pinned behind his back and his gaze rested into her eyes like it belonged there-like though his countenance was bothered with emotions Isa couldn't exactly pinpoint, his gaze still fit in with her own like two pieces of a perfect puzzle.

"Your majesty," Count Vladimir broke the silence, and Isa was forced to tear her eyes away from the King's own and glance towards the Russian Count.

The man was grinning from pink ear to pink ear, his smooth white skin resembling those of the sculptures that the Romans had once very often built, a new one day by day. The confidence in the Russian Count's manner bordered on a very skilled unease while the overhead yellow lighting danced in his platinum hair, as though he was certain that no matter what he did or went on to do, his form could do no wrong.

"Magnificent ball," Count Vladimir uttered, with hard dimples in his cheeks that Isadora hadn't noticed before.

"It pales in comparison-certainly-with every other that I have attended, even in Russia," The man uttered an airy laugh, his blue eyes dropping to his feet briefly before they flickered up to meet Isa's eyes.

"Though I believe Queen Ariana would argue that the event has not yet quite started."

Isadora stayed silent, feeling suddenly out of place in face of this Russian Count's familiarity with the Queen mother of Angria. In the past days, she felt as though try as she might, the Queen hadn't let her venture close for her to even deign to speak of such familiarity with the female royal. Isadora had been held at more than an arm's length with civil propriety, so much so that she wasn't sure if that was because of the Queen's utter disbelief at her only son and ruler's fancy, in line with strict royal behavioral rules, or because Isadora and Archie were misunderstood to be carrying a disease that neither were entirely aware of.

She tried to tell herself that it was alright. She tried to tell herself that they were royals, and this Count too, was a nobleman. She tried to tell herself that there were walls around her that she couldn't cross because of the circumstances of her birth, and that was how it would forever remain. And that was alright, was it not? Some things existed high above that one couldn't reach, hold or mold, and that was alright.

The King of Angria spoke to the Count in a low tone, and Isa, lost in her thoughts, missed what he had uttered. His facial expression remained stoical as he had addressed Count Vladimir, and she couldn't read the words she had missed on his face at all.

Around them, the orchestra picked up again and couples joined up again on the dance floor, continuing their dances reluctantly. Isadora saw the Queen mother's extravagant form glide over onto the floor, gesturing with her diamonds clad thick wrists signals of encouragement towards the orchestra in the further corner of the room and towards the couples on the floor. Queen Ariana's face was slightly flushed, reminding Isadora of Lady Tremaine's own face when the woman took over the unspoken duty to mend Isadora's ways in front of people that were to only be pleased.

The flush of apology, and second hand embarrassment that those who created never really felt.

Having restored the ballroom floor situation back to it's required state, Queen Ariana waltzed over towards the standing forms of Isadora Tremaine, Count Vladimir and King Alexander Casimir.

In her observance, Isa hadn't again heard a single word being exchanged in between the Count and the King. The former talked with a brightness and civility in his tone, while the latter replied in a low tone that seemed to display none of the aforementioned qualities. Isadora was certain the King's tone was curt as much as it was low, and she was thankful suddenly that her mind was blocking his words out amongst the strums of the orchestra and hushed talking of the guests.

Despite her hyper awareness, despite dropping into a curtsey again as soon as the Queen approached, despite the warmth pressing on her forehead and the rush of coolness at the back of her exposed neck, Isadora Tremaine felt as absent as though she was but a mere statue freshly sculpted and left to cool and harden in the sun while the world around her went about it's business.

"My goodness, you two cause quite a stir," The Queen uttered with pointed eyes and a hint of tease in her tone as she eyed both the Count and her son, the woman's beady eyes acknowledging Isadora only briefly as she straightened to her full height from the curtsey.

"I was just extending praise for this ball," The Count grinned, efficiently taking the Queen's hand and kissing the top of it. "But it is truly due to you, I fear."

The Queen laughed, pleased. "Vladimir, you discredit my son. Zander has had quite a hand in all this too. After all, it is to celebrate his cousin's marriage."

Isadora kept her eyes on the ground, not knowing what else to do. Briefly, without her permission, her eyes fluttered up to look at the King when his name was uttered in the Queen's voice, only to find his eyes already on her.

The eye contact was sudden and it made something flutter wildly in the pit of Isa's stomach as she tore her eyes away and fixed her gaze back onto the ground, keeping her chin low but her posture held straight.

"Besides, your son did interrupt my dance with Miss Tremaine," The Count laughed then in response to something else the Queen had spoken.

Isadora looked up at her name being mentioned, her eyes meeting the Count's and then the Queen's. The latter looked at her not in displeasure, but in a certain new calculation, as though something that the elder woman had already decided in her mind was affirming itself more profoundly now. Isa felt the strange hurt of not knowing what ideas the Queen had assumed of her so far, she felt the dislike at herself for her new found affinity to care so much what these people were thinking of her.

Why did they suddenly matter so much? Why couldn't she hold them away from her sense of peace? Why did the fact that they were connected to King Alexander Casimir, made her care about what they thought of her so much?

"And considering I was enjoying the dance with our mysterious lady so much, I am almost saddened at the interruption."

"Miss Tremaine is the stepsister of Princess Cinderella," Queen Ariana spoke then once the Count had finished his speech, the words coming with such ease as the woman moved her eyes away from Isa's and looked at the Count, smiling.

"She's family to the new princess of Valence, which is why she is here."

"Mother-," The King of Angria spoke then, his tone hard, but he was swiftly interrupted by a third voice.

Something fell in Isa then. Was the Queen all together upset at Isadora's presence at the palace? Had something traversed in between the woman and her son of which Isa had become a sensitive enough topic? Of course, she had expected some indifference regarding herself in between Queen Ariana and King Alexander-a small clash of opinions perhaps, but surely nothing more. Yes, she had no significant dowry to her name and had a child she had adopted, but was that merit enough for a sensible and educated Queen mother to entirely frown upon Isa's bearings?

If such was the case, then Isa felt pity and sympathy surge through her for Queen Ariana. To have such a closed and small heart must be suffocating, must it not?

"Your gracious majesties," An all too familiar voice erupted in Isadora's senses and she almost cringed by the weight of the sugar loaded in it.

Looking towards the source, she saw her lady mother-clad in a deep emerald gown with her grey streaked hair piled modestly atop her head, and Lucinda Tremaine-voluptuous form wrapped tight in a bright yellow frock that pushed hard at the girl's chest, forcing skin out at her bosom, scuttling over to the standing royal forms at the edge of the dance floor. Their heels tapped against the pristine ballroom floor and Isadora could hear the ferocious scuttling of their hurried steps above the orchestra and the thrum of the conversations going about the ballroom.

"We cannot begin to tell you how honored we are to be invited to the beneficent kingdom of Angria, and to it's royal palace no less," Lady Tremaine fell into an elaborate curtsey as she spread the skirts of her gown behind her with a wave of her hand, fanning the material out. Lucinda followed suit, though failing to fan out her own dress as elaborately as her mother.

"I'm sorry," Queen Ariana managed, forcing herself out of her surprise as she briefly eyed King Alexander in inquiry before looking at Lady Tremaine once the woman reached her full height, taking her sweet time to do so.

"And you are?"

Lady Tremaine blinked, her energetic system malfunctioning slightly before she let out a laugh to help save the situation, clapping her bony hands together.

"Oh, forgive me! I fear the glamour of this night has entirely caught up to me already," Lady Tremaine managed, her eyes meeting Isadora's briefly.

"I'm Lady Tremaine, the new princess of Valence quite happens to be my step daughter," The woman managed with a modest and utterly too fond of a laugh, her grey eyes shining with mustered mirth. "Oh how surprising life is, is it not?"

"Isadora, over here," The woman gestured to Isa then, with that same mustered fondness in her eyes. "Is my eldest daughter, and my youngest accompanied me today."

The party present all glanced briefly at Lucinda, who shuffled nervously under the quick inspection and offered an askew smile.

"I can't explain in words how delighted my family was to receive a personal invitation to these festivities by the King of Angria himself," Lady Tremaine continued, showering her acquired privilege to make it known.

"And my Isadora was so very graciously received earlier than anyone else, and for that I am truly in awe of his benevolent majesty."

Lady Tremaine dropped into another elaborate curtsey, this one dedicated solely to King Alexander Casimir, who, holding his earlier stoic expression on his face said or did nothing to acknowledge the woman.

"Well," Count Vladimir, still very much the part of the party as he maintained his grin, spoke.

"I can't say I blame his majesty for wanting Miss Tremaine's company. We didn't have much time for a conversation, but I am certain your daughter is as abundant in her mind as she is in her beauty."

"Thank you, my lord," Isadora hastened, her heart beating hard in her chest.

She needed air, and being the wavering subject of a conversation that her mother would likely take the reins of, was not somewhere she wanted to be at present.

"Oh, she certainly is," Lady Tremaine clasped her bony hands together. "Her late father used to say she inherited it all from me, but I'm quite sure that was a jest on his part."

Queen Ariana and the Count offered half smiles to the lady's attempt at sharing a joke, and Isadora took that as her cue.

"Please excuse me," She settled her eyes on the Queen mother, and then the Count and finally in King Alexander's own chocolate eyes.

Her lips parted to present a reason for excusing herself, but at the moment, she was unable to think of a lie. So she clamped her lips shut and offered the royals a smile instead, before curtseying and pivoting on her heels to leave.

She edged herself past crowds of people and her gown brushed against other gowns, mixed perfumes and colognes fluttering in her senses as she focused on getting back towards the entrance of the ballroom, but the truth was, she could already feel herself breathe better. Getting out of that conversation, consisting of her mother's exaggerated and well hidden deceptions, the Queen mother's misleading looks and gestures, the Count's happy obliviousness, and King Alexander's heavy silence-had all been too much for Isa to bear.

Upon returning to the entrance of the ballroom, she spotted a familiar entrance-adjacent to the ballroom entrance-that she remembered was supposed to be the music room. She remembered the Queen mother showing it to her on that first day and that palace tour she'd been given. Isa made her way to it, quietly slipping in between the intricately designed ajar door and into the darkness of that room.

It was a considerably sized room, and was only being lit by the little cast of yellow light washing into the room from the door left ajar. The light fell in a straight beam on the floor, not doing much for the rest of the darkness co-habiting alongside.

Isadora Tremaine took deep breaths, trying to ease the tension that had built up inside her-taking firm hold of the muscles in her neck and back.

"I take it things aren't going as well as we'd hoped?"

Isa stifled a gasp at the voice, her eyes immediately catching onto the blue and violet glow in the deep corner of the room that brightened and intensified slowly, revealing the familiar stout figure of the elderly fairy godmother sitting on the seat of the pianoforte. The blue and violet light cast a wondrous halo all around the old woman's form, and Isadora could see the flicker of gleams in the color around her-as though it was glitter floating above and around the woman.

"Fairy godmother," Isa managed, a hand on her heart to calm her shock. "What are you doing here?"

The woman smiled, gesturing fondly with her thick hands for Isadora to approach. Isa obliged, walking over to the fairy.

"Aren't you happy to see me, my dear?"

The question was strangely touching, and suddenly she felt her eyes ache. Having met only once, here was a woman-the only person in the world-who at present knew everything that Isa couldn't bring herself to share with another living soul.

Seeing the woman again, her familiar warm smile, was unexpected yes, but Mon Dieu, Isadora couldn't begin to measure how welcome it was.

The purple blue soft light emanating from the woman washed over Isa, casting her own skin with a blue violet sheen.

"Sit, my dear," The fair godmother gestured to the ground in front of her, wanting perhaps, to place Isa in the same position in which they had met.

Isa sat, tucking her legs under her as her golden gown flared around her, making her sit in the bed made of the luxurious golden material.

The fairy godmother leaned forwards and took Isadora's gloved hands away from her, placing them on her blue fabric clad warm lap as she rested her own hands fondly atop Isa's gloved ones.

"I wanted to see you again, my dear, to know how you were getting on in Angria."

Isadora managed a half hearted shrug, "I hope you got your answer."

"Now, now," The woman patted Isa's hand gently. "I did get my answer, but I do believe you got something else entirely. I fear our answers don't match."

"What isn't matching, fairy godmother?" Isa blinked, shaking her head slightly. "I'm still where I was before, when we met. Nothing has changed."

"A lot has changed," The woman uttered, a glint in her soft blue eyes. "The King is going to formally court you, isn't he?"

"He-," Isa broke off, swallowing an empty lump in her throat. "He said he would."

"Then he will."

Isadora Tremaine's eyes sharpened as she retrieved her hands from the fairy godmother's lap.

"It isn't this simple, please don't make it sound so simple," She let out, desperation and anger in her voice. "I don't have time, fairy godmother. I have no home to go back to, when the festivities are over and we are made to leave, I will have no proper shelter to give to my innocent son. Where will I stay then, waiting for a courtship that I don't even believe is coming?"

"My dear," The woman spoke, sympathy and understanding in her eyes as she took hold of Isa's chin gently.

"You must have faith."

Isadora scoffed at the word, despair and anger fighting for dominance in her chest.

"We really must have faith, shouldn't we?" She uttered in scorn then. "While men are given the permission to take their time as we hang on the edge for their consideration and acknowledgement."

For a dark moment, Isa forgot that it was the King she was talking about, and not just any man. Of course, Kings could hold back however much they pleased. But for a dark moment, Isa forgot the propriety and acceptance of such a feat, her heart thrashing and rebelling against the notion.

"Mon Dieu, fairy godmother," She went still then, shock and horror on her face as realization struck her hard.

"Mama did the same, didn't she?" She looked into the fairy godmother's now melancholic and equally sympathetic eyes.

"For all the hatred I have for her, she too was at the wretched mercy of a man until he died and left her be."

The fairy godmother sucked in a breath, powerless against the conclusions that Isadora was coming to of her own accord.

"But I always thought that came after marriage," Isa peered desperately into the fairy godmother's eyes. "I was convinced that for me if it all came after marriage then I would bear it for Archie and myself. I had promised myself I would handle it better than mama did. But I wasn't-I wasn't prepared for it coming before."

She hadn't been prepared for it coming before. Was the King of Angria merely playing with her? Was she so obvious in her want for him and so oblivious that he had decided to have some sort of fun with her? Would she become her mother, infatuated by the King as he continued to drag out his attentions and hold them back whenever he pleased? Or, did he assume Isa only wanted him for his position like every other lady he must've come across?

"No," The fairy godmother blurted out then, taking Isadora's face forcefully in both her hands and forcing her to listen.

"You listen to me now," The woman pressed, control in her voice and facial features.

"I have seen it all. You are going to be the future Queen of Angria."

Isadora blinked, her heart pounding in her chest as she searched the woman's blue eyes.

"Not only me, but the rest of the fairies-all five of us have seen you being crowned Queen of Angria with King Alexander Casimir at your side."

Isa's lips parted to speak but she didn't know what to say, while the old fairy maintained her hold on Isadora's face.

"Now tell me that you don't believe," The fairy godmother challenged, a firm look in her eyes. "Tell me that you dare think I'm lying to you-that the rest of the four fairies too, are lying and pretending. Tell me that you don't believe in the love that you and the King both have begun to have for each other."

Isadora's heart pounded in her chest as the woman slowly let go of her. Briefly, Isa brought her hand to her heart, her mind and the organ in her chest going awry in their confusion and shock. When exactly had she started to believe that life with King Alexander-Zander-was nothing more than a just dream? Despite the kiss they had shared in the palace stables, his lips in her neck, his hair in between her knuckles-when exactly had she stopped believing any of it to be true?

"Why would you look into the future?" Isadora Tremaine spoke after a pause, lifting her face to look at the fairy godmother, who in turn had gone pale in face of the question.

"Why would you all look into the future? It couldn't be just for me-why would it be for me at all?"

Suddenly, the fairy godmother bent forwards and gathered Isa's hands in hers again.

"War is coming my dear, the one I briefly mentioned to you the first time we met," The old woman's tone had gone grave, the glint in her fairy blue eyes almost non-existent.

"But I was mistaken," The fairy godmother shook her head. "I was mistaken when I spoke of it simply. War is coming and it will be anything but simple."

Isadora tilted her head slightly, trying to read the woman's now anxious blue eyes.

Suddenly there was a slight commotion heard outside. Isa could make out Lucinda's shrill voice in the hallway outside.

"Oh mama, let her be! Why must we toil after her? Can't I dance with a Duke or two?"

"Certainly," Lady Tremaine snapped then, sounding closer and closer to the doorway of the darkened music room. "If you can fool one enough, that is."

The fairy godmother's posture stiffened, as she quickly took hold of Isadora's chin gently.

"I will tell you more when we have the time. But for now, my dear, you must understand that we need your help if this coming war is to be overcome at all."

Isa blinked in shock. "My help? But what can I do?"

The fairy godmother anxiously glanced at the doorway, the ajar door casting yellow light onto the a section of the still music room floor.

"You can control King Alexander Casimir of Angria."

Isadora's lips parted, but before she could say anything in response to the fairy godmother's chilling words, a shriek sounded at the doorway and she whipped her head in the direction, only to find the darkness clad form of Lady Tremaine striding towards her in anger, with Lucinda scuttling behind in frustration.

"Isadora!" Her lady mother uttered, "What on earth do you think you are doing?"

Isa glanced back towards the fairy godmother in front of her, only to be faced with an empty pianoforte chair, with no evidence of anyone being seated on it in the first place.

"Get off the floor, you will ruin your beautiful gown!"

"What about my beautiful gown?" Lucinda cried out, folding her arms across her chest. "Mama, you didn't even let me show it off before you dragged me out of there to search for her!"

Slowly, Isa pulled herself off the floor, running a hand over her skirts as she tried to push the fairy godmother's words somewhere deep inside her mind, to pull out later when she had the time.

"What are you doing in here?" Lady Tremaine ushered to Isadora's side, her tone demanding, reprimanding.

"What can you possibly mean by leaving the ballroom and isolating yourself like some common hermit?" The woman let out, fury emanating in her words. "Have you been doing this the entire time you've been here? Keeping yourself away like this? Have you made any progress with the King of Angria at all?"

"Mother," Isadora let out, keeping her tone schooled and mustering a forced civil smile. "How was your journey? Not too tiring, I hope?"

"Don't change the subject, Isadora," Lady Tremaine snapped, her tone harsh and cutting as the woman bore her grey eyes-now dark in this scarce light of the music room-into Isadora's ebony ones.

"Did you or did you not make progress with the King?" She pressed, "I will be forced to commit atrocities if you did not, don't you dare tell me that I have been called here for Cinderella and her marriage alone."

"Why?" Isa dared, her hands fisting at her sides. "Don't tell me, mother, that Cinderella's current predicament is of no benefit to you. I'm sure you will make the most of it regardless of what I did or did not add in the mix."

Lady Tremaine's eyes turned harder than they had been before, but her twisted lips relaxed in a certain hard resolve. She knew that no matter what effort she put, a few solid words from Cinderella will be enough for the woman and her daughters to be disowned from every celebration or regard involving the new princess of Valence.

Only, Isadora wondered what was keeping Cinderella from making the few definite statements required.

"You will have no place to go after this, if you have failed," Lady Tremaine managed, as though she was merely stating a fact instead of a warning. But Isa could see the doom in her mother's eyes, and it was entirely selfish.

Isadora's failure did not only mean homelessness for her and Archie, it meant degradation and the utter humiliation for Lady Tremaine and Lucinda when and if Cinderella came to her senses and opened her mouth against them. They would be dependent on Cinderella alone if it became clear to them that Isadora and King Alexander Casimir were an impossible feat. There would be no rescuing Lady Tremaine and Lucinda then, they would be shunned and would have to isolate themselves entirely. Isadora's failed royal prospects would not be able to save them, and for that Isa was grateful.

If there was one good thing that would come out of King Alexander Casimir's dismissal of her, it was her mother's ruin. But then, hadn't the fairy godmother seen Isa on the throne? Hadn't she assured Isadora that she would marry the King? Isa's heart pounded in her chest again as heat washed over her body.

She glanced at the ajar door of the music room, through which light washed softly into the darkened room. Could the fairy godmother and the rest of the fairies be mistaken? Could they have made a giant mistake? For on Isa's own lips, King Alexander's kiss had already faded into a memory that she couldn't entirely distinguish from a dream.

"I think, mother," Isadora met Lady Tremaine's eyes. "You should stop pretending that it is only I who has a lot to lose."

Even pointing that fact out made Isa feel uncertain. It was true, but her mother would never admit it. If she found out that Isadora had fallen as much in love with the King as a woman was perhaps capable to attach herself, and that the King was insistent on acquiring Lady Tremaine's permission to court her, the woman would still hold her permission back despite how much it would cost her own self-she would relish in the newfound power she would hold over Isa and possibly the King too. For what was the fun in hurrying everything along and finding oneself suddenly under Isadora's mercy too, for they were already under Cinderella's.

Lady Tremaine stayed silent for brief seconds, her hard gaze not leaving Isadora's eyes before she parted her lips to speak, but whatever it was she was going to say was cut drastically short before it had even started, for the door to the music entrance was pushed open and footsteps glided in, disturbing the tension of the darkened room.

"My goodness, it is dark in here," Queen Ariana's familiar voice was heard as Isadora glanced at the woman entering the music room, with King Alexander Casimir's form right next to her, his arms pinned behind his back and his eyes instantly finding hers.

"Sort out the lights," The royal snapped her ringed fingers as she spun briefly to gesture to a footman standing outside the room, upon which the uniformed man waltzed in and began deftly turning on all the lights of the now grand and beautifully vibrant music room.

Lady Tremaine floated over to Isa's left, pinning a smile onto her face and letting out an airy laugh.

"Oh, your majesties, we were just taking a breather. My Isadora gets overwhelmed in such lavish gatherings quite easily, much to my dismay."

Queen Ariana's beady eyes-glinting in silent consideration-fell on Isa after they had scrutinized Lady Tremaine.

"That is not entirely unfortunate," The woman mused, "I very much happen to be in favor of young ladies who do not always strive to become the center of balls or events I host."

Isadora held her posture straight, after having brought herself back from a small curtsey. She couldn't truly sense displeasure in the Queen mother's tone, regardless of how much the woman's words themselves had indicated such a feat. Despite being held at a distance these past days, Isa supposed she had understood the Queen to some extent. This was a woman who was not struggling to understand choices that were not her own, even though she wanted to. For all her scrutiny and examination, the woman had found nothing incriminating at all, and the simple fact that the effort had not resulted in the fruit required, was enough to frustrate the bejewelled royal woman.

Isadora supposed that some women were like that, they wanted to be hold a position in front of their families so much so that they had a hard time adjusting when their standings were threatened.

This is truly what it was, Isa thought with a start as she confirmed an earlier thought she'd had. Queen Ariana felt threatened by Isadora, and it had not been brought on by anything Isadora had done, it had only been brought on by all that Isa hadn't done.

"I assure you, your majesty," Lady Tremaine smiled wide, a pleasure in her tone. "Isadora doesn't really intend such.. effects."

"Well," Queen Ariana exhaled, putting her hands together slowly as she approached and stopped a fitting distance away, King Alexander coming to a halt beside her.

His eyes were fixed on Isadora, and his features were fixed in a determination, his lips unmoving.

"That is all the more relieving, I must say," The Queen ventured shockingly close to Isa then, and lifted a thick hand full of diamond rings to Isadora's face, pointer finger softly brushing against skin, slightly moving a curl away from her face.

"For I should hate to have a haughty daughter-in-law."

Isadora blinked, her heart lurching in her chest as Lady Tremaine barely stifled a surprised gasp beside her. Isa's eyes flickered towards King Alexander's, and she found his unmoving gaze still fixated on her, except this time she caught a hint of a smile lifting the edge of his lips.

Queen Ariana's eyes were going over every detail of Isa's face now-locked in careful observation-before she stepped away satisfied, put her hands together and glanced at Lady Tremaine.

"Despite what Miss Tremaine and my son may have formerly decided personally," The woman began authoritatively. "I have convinced Zander against a courtship. He is a King, I must insist my son does not waste time in a courtship when he has decided firmly upon marrying Miss Tremaine. Goodness knows I have long awaited Zander to form a definite attachment, and now for him to delay it unnecessarily by commencing a courtship, does not suit his Kingship nor my own personal patience."

Isa's heart was battering against her chest as the Queen spoke, her words clear and assertive.

"I insisted my son wait until your arrival, Lady Tremaine, for it was only proper according to my sensibilities. He wanted to have your permission as well, but I dissuaded him against that. For I already gave him mine, did I not? And he has the admiration of your daughter as well, what more does a King require?"

Then the woman glanced at King Alexander Casimir, and he met her eyes as she nodded a small nod in confirmation before smiling at him.

Before Isadora could comprehend what the situation before her had become, the King of Angria left his mother's side and appeared right in front of her. She saw him disengage his hands from behind his back, holding the coat of his dark velvet suit open as he searched in a pocket invisible to Isa and pulled out a small light pink velvet covered box.

"Mother!" Lucinda Tremaine gasped then, her voice a thick, heavy, shocked whisper as the girl clamped both her hands on her mouth and watched the scene unfold.

The King of Angria kneeled down in front of her elder sister then, as Lucinda scurried over to Lady Tremaine's side and grabbed hold of her mother's still, seemingly lifeless, arm.

He lifted his face towards Isadora, holding himself straight on one knee as he displayed the ring he had coveted, out in the open. A gorgeous teardrop shaped canary diamond glistened in the view of every person present on the scene, the silver band embedded with tiny diamonds held the ring high against the bed it was nestled in.

"Be mine, Miss Isadora Tremaine," The King spoke then, his warm chocolate eyes fixed on Lucinda's sister, and Lucinda couldn't help but shake at the intensity of the gaze that the King had on her sister. Then, despite not wanting to, she hid her face in the fabric of her mother's sleeve.

"Marry me."

Isadora's heart was pounding so hard she was certain that every person in the room could hear it. Zander's striking eyes were reminding her of everything that had occurred between them till date, their first dance at Prince Charming's ball, everything he had said to her then and since, the passionate kiss they had shared at the royal stables, the indication he had given to her of their future together-everything was reaffirmed in his gaze as though he knew that Isadora had been struggling to believe.

Her hands shook as she removed the dark silk glove she wore on her left hand, offering her now bare-still shaking-left hand to the King as he took hold of it in his warm grip and slid the beautiful ring on her finger.

Isa gasped softly at the feeling of the cold ring on her skin, her eyes dropped to the glittering diamond against her skin but she couldn't properly observe it, for her heart was deafening in her ears and her eyes were misting and her hand-Mon Dieu, it was shaking too much.

Before she could calm herself, King Alexander Casimir straightened himself to his full height and wrapped an arm behind her waist, pulling her to his chest in front everyone privy to the scene.

The next thing she felt was his warm forehead dipping and brushing against her cheek and his hot breath in her ear.

"And now you're mine, Isadora," He whispered thickly in her ear, his warm lips brushing against her earlobe as he spoke.

"You're all mine. I refuse to be plagued at nights by the thoughts of a stupid town doctor in Toulouse obsessing after you, or be deterred every time I want to show you a fucking observatory, or worry about propriety whenever I'm near you, or see you dancing in somebody else's arms on my own goddamned ballroom floor, ever again."

***

A/N:
okk who's excited for the fantasy element of this book to freaking start??<3