Don't Take Me For A Ride (Alex)

[Celvi Gray]

Riding out towards the Ryum River, along its steep banks and across the vast plains of beautiful Lamora, best armed with her bow and arrow, shooting a wild goose from horseback – normally it would have been the highlight of Celvi Gray’s week.
But now she turned the little piece of parchment containing the invitation for a ride over and over in her hands, the feeling of excitement just would not quite come. The reason was not the invitation itself, nor the time, it was the adressor. Her fiancé, the respectable Duke Alexander Redwood. It still made her guts squirm with unease, even thinking to be chained to him in such a fashion.

Then again, him even suggesting something like a ride should put him at least somewhere near her good books. It was far better than sitting somewhere in a parlour with some chaperons about, trying to keep the room from freezing to a death rate from just no warm feelings between the two betrothed. At least while on horseback, she could spur Artano forward and get him out of her sight if the Grand Duke once again worked her last nerve …
Oh, glorious prospects ahead, indeed! It didn’t help that both her handmaid and aunt Dagmara had fussed over her to look exactly PERFECT, even though she was only going on a ride.
So now, Celvi wore her best riding gown, an expensive, yet plain dress in a dark shimmering green, matching the color of her split iris in the left eye perfectly, and creating an interesting contrast to her right eye and she other part of the left.

Over this dress she wore a black woollen cloak as the wind could still be chilly even if spring was slowly blossoming into bloom. Buckskin boots and similar gloves completed the attire. At least she had been able to talk them out of adorning her with jewelry, so she was wearing little to almost nothing, only an intricatly carved silver medaillon that contained a tiny charcoal drawing of her mother’s face.
Her hair, to complete her appearance, was laid into a fancy half-up-half-down hairdo, marking her state of being between maidenhood and matrimony. Even though she looked rather plain compared to some of the splendor a few fellow ladies would bestow on themselves daily, she still felt like a garnished doll.

And now she waited for him in the courtyard, leaning slightly against Artano for moral and physical support. “You’ve taken me safely to captivity and back”, she whispered in his perked up ear, playing with his mane and fighting the urge to jump on his back and flee the scene. “Now carry me safely through this. You might be the only friend I have left.”
Sighing deeply, she patted his neck one last time, then stood straight, turning to the grand steps to see if her future husband was already approaching.

---

I apologize for the pun in the title...

[Grand Duke Alexander Redwood]

If there was one well-known fact about the grand duke that was actually true, it was his love for riding. No wonder, given that he commanded the elite mounted archers of the Lamoran military, but his enjoyment surpassed duty. Given different circumstances, Alex might have become a messenger, spending every waking hour on horseback traversing the icy terrain of Lamora and braving the mountains even into Mar’vol. This ride, today, however, bore the distinct feeling of duty for the grand duke. Today he would put on a show with his fiancee for the Lamoran court, quieting rumors of discontent with the match and perhaps – if he was lucky – getting to know his irascible bride-to-be a little better.

He wore the colors of his regiment, as was his wont: a hunter green doublet and cloak over garments and boots of black. Unlike most courtiers, his clothes were rather lacking in decoration. A design of vines in ebony thread adorned his black leather gloves, matching the golden clasp on his cloak, while on his left breast a small crest in gold embroidery glittered in the bright midday sun. It depicted a sword (the Redwood emblem, as traditional defenders of the realm) piercing a crown (denoting his royal blood). Not that anyone needed to see it to know who he was; his blond hair was proof enough of his high rank.

It wasn’t reluctance that was making the grand duke late today. Rather, he was looking for a particular object that he could have sworn was in his desk, but turned out hidden in his casket of military medals instead. Stuffing it into his pocket, he strode through the corridors of the palace, not wanting to seem rushed, but disliking his late arrival. The grand duke prided himself on his promptness (among other things). At least his horse was already saddled, a task he would normally do himself, but as his meeting with some of the high generals had run late, he’d asked one of the pages to have it done.

The white brilliance of the courtyard nearly blinded Alex as he emerged from the palace. He was used to it, of course, and didn’t stumble as he came down the grand stairs. He muttered a curse under his breath to see Lady Celvi standing near her horse, waiting for Runnori knew how long. Spotting him, a groom led Zaycomb out of the stables to meet them near the gates. “Thank you,” he said to the groom with a nod. Turning to Celvi, he smiled and bowed slightly – both movements perfuntory rather than heartfelt. “My lady. Please forgive my tardiness.”

[Celvi Gray]

She didn’t have to wait long. Soon enough the Grand Duke was coming down the stairs in a swift, yet not hasty pace, and Celvi surpressed a sigh, working on the wall around her soul to keep up a proper appearance as was expected of a girl who was about to marry Lamora’s most wanted bachelor. She ought to smile a lot, however reserved and proper, and she ought to give the perfect impression of wanting nothing more than to go on a ride with him – when in truth she would rather had this ride alone.
But she could do it. She had not lost her wit when standing in front of the Mar’volian king, explaining that they’ve all been had, so now an unwanted fiancé should be a walk in the palace gardens, right? It might have been, had there not been Chase.

Shielding her eyes against the sun, Celvi watched Alexander Redwood approach, and once again had to admit, that he was simply something very nice to look at. It didn’t faze her, but she could at least appreciate it, how dashing he looked while descending the stairs in his military riding gown, his fair hair creating an appealing contrast to the darker green. Once again she sighed inwardly. You didn’t need to be a dreamy-eyed girl to wish things were different. Why could she not and why didn’t she even want to work over their resentments? She was making this so very hard for herself, and yet she might never change it. Alexander Redwood and her were like fire and water, constantly clashing and causing a lot of steam. Two beings so different in everything and with mutual dislike for each other to boot… it was truly a match made in hell.

Her attention was momentarily averted, when a stablelad led his mount out, and Artano started to twitch uneasily. He never liked the proximity of other stallions, and apparently this horse must be one on his black list. Celvi surpressed a sigh and rolled her eyes. Oh perfect! Horses and riders in perfect harmony – concerning their disharmony.
But then she had to focus on the Grand Duke again who was now introducing himself with a formal bow and an equally formal excuse for his tardiness. None of this, Celvi knew, was genuine, they were both playing a charade for the court that had been their eager matchmaker.
Adopting the same unfeeling politeness, she lowered herself into a quick curtsy for a greeting and returned the smile. “Of course, you’re forgiven Mylord. You didn’t keep me waiting long after all. Well, then: shall we?”

Celvi stayed beside her horse, curious to what he would do now. It would be an act of courtesy to help the lady you were riding with mount, even more so if she was your fiancée, but it was no rule set in stone. He could also leave this duty to the stablelad.
Too bad she was not riding out with Christabel today, or else she would not be chained to the sidesaddle.

[Grand Duke Alexander Redwood]

Alex suppressed a sigh. If he’d had a more unnatural conversation, he couldn’t recall it. Why did his aunt have to betroth him to the one maiden at court who wasn’t elated at her good fortune? And why did he have to be betrothed at all? He was only twenty-five. He had plenty of time to wed and produce heirs, when he met the right woman. Instead it had been thrust upon him, just like his rank and all its attendant responsibilities. He imagined the look on his aunt’s face if he proposed she wed her precious Bell to the king of Mar’vol; the corners of his mouth quirked in amusement at the mental image.

And then he was back in the moment. “As you wish, my lady,” Alex said, forcing a smile to his lips. His dark eyes remained unreadable, possibly bored. She was beautiful, he had to admit. His aunt had not picked an ugly maiden for him to wed, at least. On the surface, she was perfectly fit for a grand duke. A lady-in-waiting to her royal highness, brave yet delicately beautiful, of noble birth and apparently connected at court in ways that Alex didn’t care to fathom. It was all terribly proper. And terribly terrible as well.

He extended a hand to help Celvi into her saddle. “If I may?” Such gestures came easily enough to him. His father had kept him away from court for years, but even on country estates one tried to observe the niceties. The old grand duke had no use for frivolous etiquette (one still heard stories of his recalcitrance during Alex’s mother’s reign), but helping those weaker than oneself was the duty of the strong and honorable. And Alex was nothing if not a creature of honor.

Behind him Zaycomb snorted, clearly disliking Lady Celvi’s mount. Alex thought it odd. Zaycomb was a fairly friendly horse, as stallions went, and tended to like any steed so long none presumed to ride in front of him. Alex sometimes thought his horse cared more for the niceties of rank than he himself. It certainly wouldn’t be a dull ride with the horses as opposed as their riders. Perhaps the two would work out an uneasy truce as their owners had, based on practicality and a certain fatalism. At least the two humans were better actors than the equines.

Reminded of the eyes that watched them, Alex lifted his fiancee's hand to his lips for a brief kiss of the back of her glove. His dark eyes glittered with dry humor as he glanced up at his mounted bride-to-be, a smile that verged on a smirk on his face. "Will that do for a bouquet of moonflowers?" he asked, moonflower symbolizing disguise in the language of flowers. In other words, remembering to play their parts, at least so long as they were within sight of the palace.

[Celvi Gray]

Feeling the eyes of a few passing ladies and also a few servants on her, Celvi struggled to keep up the happy façade. She smiled back at the Grand Duke but her eyes did not sparkle with mirth like they usually did. From afar, however, it would do just fine, and those ladies didn’t know her that well anyway. Sometimes it still made Celvi wonder how you could live side by side with some people for years, sharing most activities, and still you were hardly able to glimpse behind their courtly mask. These girls now shooting her death glares when they thought no one was paying attention would probably starting to bad-mouth every little thing she was doing right now the moment they had ridden through the palace gate.

For a short time, between her return from Mar’vol and the Masquerade, practically every lady in court had tried to become her best friend, vipers they were, just because now she was high in royal favors. But as soon as her betrothal with the Grand Duke had been made official, the false friendship had evaporated into thin air. Celvi knew they all hated her now for taking the prize they all had wanted, even though she was of far lower rank than most of them. Outwardly they still treated her respectfully as she deserved for soon being a Grand Duchess, but as soon as no witnesses were present, they shunned her, openly and almost brutally.
Not that she really did mind. She had never belonged to them before, and she didn’t need their false friendship. Being lonely all your life made you live with it easier.

Wouldn’t it be funny, or at least the tiniest bit amusing if she could give them a good false show, making the sour looks on their faces intensify because she OBVIOUSLY was on cloud nine with her dashing fiancé? Celvi had never liked to play such games, but right now she was certainly in the mood for them.
So when Alexander Redwood offered his hand to help her up, she took it with a little coquettish laugh, placing her other hand on his shoulder to push herself skilfully up into the saddle. Before she removed her hand from there again to rearrange her skirt, she inwardly counted to three, though she did not like touching him. For any ignorant and jealous spectator it must have looked like a secret lovers touch.
”Thank you, Mylord!” she said aloud with a sweet voice, then whispered under her breath: “My apologies. I figured they wanted a good show to slag me about.”

Reining in Artano, who was prancing nervously still, she accepted the kiss on the back of her gloved hand with a little show-off laugh, while inside her guts slightly squirmed. Not even so much with resentment… just with unease. She might have reacted like that to any man doing this gesture. Reading the hidden meaning behind his words, she nodded and returned the smile, this time it bordered on genuine. “I don’t think I could ask for more, Mylord. You are truly a very considerate man.” Good thing the word ‘considerate’ had so many meanings. Everyone could chose the one for himself he or she found most appropriate.

[Grand Duke Alexander Redwood]

He helped her into the saddle. At least she didn’t shy away from his touch as he expected. In fact… Alex’s eyebrow rose of its accord at her sudden coquetry, at odds with her usual behavior towards him. If the groom hadn’t still been standing a few feet away still holding Zaycomb’s bridle, he would have said something. He wondered if she thought this way how he liked women to act around him (it wasn’t) or if it was all part of their act for the palace gossips. Her whispered words solved the mystery for him a moment later. “My pleasure, my lady,” he said with a slight nod before kissing her hand, a gesture in kind. Two could play this game – no, two had to play this game.

She caught the hidden meaning behind his words – at least he was not to wed a dolt – and gave him a smile that he thought might possibly be genuine. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking on his part. Her next words were so proper and meaningless, it lent no clue to her actual thoughts on the whole matter. But perhaps she did not detest him quite as much as she had the night of their engagement. “You flatter me, Lady Celvi,” he said with a wry wink, turning away to mount his own steed.

Dismissing the groom, Alex swung himself into the saddle with the ease of one raised to horsemanship. A practiced hand checked for the sword buckled onto his saddle (his dagger rode on his waist) out of habit. While the princess now only went riding in a large entourage, the grand duke was an accomplished warrior and therefore allowed to ride outside of the palace unaccompanied. The lady, of course, was considered safe under his protection. He stroked Zaycomb to settle the stallion down a bit before turning his eyes (and a brilliant, if brittle, smile) to his fiancee. “Shall we?”

Not waiting for a reply, he nudged Zaycomb into a walk towards the opened gate. It was one of the smaller ones, set into the back of the palace leading to a wide ice field and from thence to the woods and the River Ryum. Alex preferred this way. The field (wide enough to prevent an attacking army from getting the jump on the palace defenders) was where he drilled his regiment when not on border patrol. Some of his men were out here today, working on their archery skills from horseback. The corporal in charge of the squad recognized his commander as the two nobles approached, calling a halt to the manuvers. The other eight men drew up in a neat line and saluted Alex. “Lord Commander,” the corporal said, staring straight ahead.

Alex returned their salute. “At ease,” he said, comfortable in his element. “How goes the training, Corporal Gaynes?” The corporal proceeded to explain their progress, his eyes straying once or twice away from his commander’s. The grand duke realized (belatedly) his error. “Forgive me,” he said, biting back his chagrin. He had never before mixed female company and his regiment before; to him, they were two separate lives. “Men, this is Lady Celvi Gray.” He paused the briefest of moments before adding, “My betrothed.” The men placed their hands over their hearts and bowed slightly in the saddle – the proper Lamorian military acknowledgement to a civilian. He glanced sidelong to see her reaction, although why he cared if she appreciated the respect his men showed her, he didn't know.

[Celvi Gray]

With every minute this charade in the courtyard lasted, Celvi wished more and more they would finally set out into the wilderness, where there was no game to play and no illusion to hold up. Good Runnori, if these few moments already seemed trying to her, how arduous would the future be? The… wedding (the word still didn’t leave her mind with ease) even, and the time after that? Perhaps these masks would become so tightly fit that they were almost impossible to pull off again. Would she someday maybe even believe she was happy as things were? No. That was ridiculous. Self-deception could never work to such and extent! Not with Chase around as a constant reminder of what might have been. The lady swallowed, momentarily struggling to regain her countenance. She didn’t want to think of Chase now. It hurt too much…

She flattered him? Well… inwardly that had by no means been her intention, but she could not very well argue the point right now, when everyone was listening in to every word they exchanged. Maybe she could set it straight later… or she wouldn’t. Knowing the two of them that might just result in another argument. As much as Celvi hated to step down the minute she felt challenged, as little did she appreciate the prospects of an argument in forsight. Where was the use in this constant running your head against figurative brick walls? Neither of them would ever change. So she gave no further comment, just nodded with another smile, a little bordering on relieved if you took a closer look, and then she urged Artano forward with a little encouraging yelp, digging her heels softly into his flanks.

But as soon as they had passed the gate, Celvi’s eyes spotted a movement in the distance of the plains, and the closer they got – apparently her fiancé had no intention of avoiding this particular group – the more the lady could make out the figures of mounted archers practicing. Everything clicked into place and suddenly the annoyance was halved and replaced with a little interest instead. That must be his very own regiment! Celvi had heard nothing but rumors about his men, or things he had proudly dropped in their first conversation in the war section of the library. But she had never witnessed him in his world.

That he felt at home there, when his men saluted him respectfully and where he was obviously in command needn’t be mentioned, but she found it intriguing all the same. While he talked, she snuck a few glances at the men, acknowledging without surprise that they seemed to adore Alexander Redwood. As pratty and aloof she might have witnessed him, this seemed to be where he belonged, and he knew it very well. Suddenly Celvi could understand why he hated court life so much. These men expected nothing of him but orders, and they knew what he was worth, he didn’t need to prove himself constantly. This side of her fiancé was intriguing and new, but she doubted it would change her views on him in the long run.

Pulled from her reverie when he introduced her, Celvi hastily returned to the imminent present, for a second wondering what she should say, or if she should say anything at all. Gladly enough, Dagmara’s countless lessons on proper behavior to any living creature in the world came in handy now, and so she just had to open the drawer in which she had stowed away ‘proper way to greet soldiers without mentionable rank: be polite but stay distant’ and act on it.
Bowing her head slightly with a smile that was friendly, but not too bright, she looked at the men before her and said: “My pleasure! The excellence of your regiment precedes you, Messieurs. I am glad to know the border area in your unerring hands.”

Though where had they been when she was dragged to Mar’vol, Celvi thought with a sigh. Apparently all was well in theory… until you actually needed them.

[Grand Duke Alexander Redwood]

Alex hadn’t noticed how tense his entire body had been until they met up with the men of his regiment. Betrothal was a frightfully unnatural state, but out here under the sun and in his element, he could let his guard down. Well, at least so much as he ever did. He was still their commander, after all, but compared to the rigid protocol of court, the military was positively lax in their respect for hierarchy. All you had to do was earn the respect of the men in your command and they would follow you into the icy depths of hell without question. This much, at least, his father had prepared him for.

Celvi’s presence changed matters somewhat, of course. After introducing her (far too late to be considered anything but a last ditch effort at politeness), he shifted in his saddle. He wasn’t nervous – was he? It seemed the height of ridiculousness to think that he cared what Corporal Gaynes and the rest thought of a bride-to-be that he’d had no part in picking… but in a strange way, he did. Celvi’s behavior and appearance reflected on him and would influence everyone’s opinion of him from now on. He disliked being so tied to someone who clearly despised him. It was bad enough that everyone judged him based on his blond locks and parentage, but now they would add whispers of the grand duchess to their gossip. The idea made him feel positively ill.

“The pleasure is entirely ours, milady,” Corporal Gaynes said to Celvi. “It is not often we have such beautiful visitors.”

The strange thing was (to Alex) that his subordinate seemed to actually mean his words. Celvi was beautiful, to be sure, but she was so high-strung, it was maddening! But of course right now she was on her best behavior. The thought that she believed his regiment worth the courtly politeness made him smile. “Not ever, I think,” he said. Given the grand duke’s predilection for being out in the field, avoiding court unless required to be there, the archery regiment had seen rather less of the palace than they might otherwise. Even so, it wasn’t often that the bejeweled ladies of the court were in the same place as the men of the regiment. He got the impression that most ladies found common soldiers frighteningly barbaric, though they believed their officers to be dashing and valiant.

“Shall we ride on, Lady Celvi?” he asked. They had interrupted the regiment’s exercises and he knew the cold would be getting to them soon if they did not start riding once more. Besides which, he wanted to retain the glow of his regiment’s approval of his bride-to-be, something that was sure to dissipate if they stayed much longer. Lady Celvi was not known for her tact, at least in his few experiences of her. Runnori knew that she would manage to entangle them into an argument of some sort if he didn’t keep them riding on.

Waiting for her reply, he reached his free hand into his pocket to check for the object he’d brought along. He was still divided on what he would do. It had been his mother’s, so it ought to be his wife’s, but Lady Celvi was not his wife yet and besides… did she deserve it? Would she appreciate it? Or would she just see it as a pro forma expression, easing them into their inevitable union? She was so hard to read – impossible, really. But if he did not give it to her, who would have it? For all his faults and dalliances, he had always thought of it as sowing his wild oats before settling down in a faithful marriage. When the time came, he would be making a vow to Celvi in the sight of the gods, and Alex was too conscious of his honor to break his word.

[Celvi Gray]

Well, so far this wasn’t working out half as horrible as she had feared, Celvi realized with an inward sigh. Apparenlty, she had just said the right thing and hadn’t mortally offended anyone. She needed to watch her behavior now more than ever, Dagmara had made that clear this morning in an annoyingly long sermon, because now it was not only the good name of her own family she had to guard. She was The Grand Duke’s betrothed and soon to be Grand Duchess. Every mistake she made would eventually fall back on him as well and blemish his reputation. Personally, she of course couldn’t care less, since in her eyes he did a good job of that already, blemishing his reputation that was with all his dalliances, but of course she HAD to care. It was her duty to be responsible. Ugh… now the door of the golden cage had inevitably slammed shut behind her delicately and frantically fluttering wings. Duty and responsibility… yes, that was what her life would come down to eventually. Just like every other woman in court, just like Princess Christabel, just like the Queen. It might be sinful to compare herself to those two women, but then, the step down from a princess to a grand duchess wasn’t as grand as it had been towards a mere lady of inferior birth.

“The pleasure is entirely ours, milady,” Corporal Gaynes said to Celvi. “It is not often we have such beautiful visitors.”
Even though she should have expected such a comment, Celvi couldn’t help the soft tint of red that suddenly colored her cheeks at this compliment. It was not so much about who said it, or that she thought it inappropriate, Celvi just had never been comfortable around praise, and always felt like it wasn’t deserved. Having such a strict aunt criticizing every lock that went astray and every crease in your clothing didn’t quite help in getting you accustomed to praise.
Before she could say anything though, The Grand Duke answered for her and maybe that was for the best. He knew how to deal with his men. But she had to bite back a smile at the thought of the poor soldiers never being exposed to the beauties of court. Then again… if they weren’t was them calling her beautiful really to be taken as a measure?


“Shall we ride on, Lady Celvi?”
Once again, the Grand Duke’s words pierced her thoughts, and again she was glad for it. It wouldn’t look good if she sat there on her horse, all dreamily lost in idle thoughts, while she had to be attentive towards her surroundings like never before. Sweet Runnori, if a simple ride-out with her fiancée turned out to be so tedious, how would she possibly cope with a life on display such as that? Well, it wasn’t exactly like she had a choice, and deep down inside she knew that if Dagmara had planned such an outcome all along, she also had bred her for this. That was what all those hated lessons came down to, and she would do well heeding every advice now twice as carefully.

“Yes, we shall!” she agreed, smiling in a hopefully sweet enough manner at the Grand Duke. As little as she wanted to be alone with him, as little did she want to stay on display such as that. It was all a choice between the devil and the deep blue sea, but a choice she had to make. “After all, I wouldn’t want to keep your formidable regiment from training for too long.” She couldn’t bring herself to make it sound suggestive or anything, acting as if the sole reason she wanted to leave was so she could be alone with her ‘beloved duke’. There was only so much pretending you could do. With one last bowing of her head towards the men, she pulled on Artano’s reins to lead him away.

[Grand Duke Alexander Redwood]

Alex wondered if Celvi realized how much her skilled handling of their encounter with his regiment impressed him. To be honest, he had almost expected her to go off half-cocked and blathering on about how her father had said this about warfare and something else she’d read in a book. It certainly would have painted her in a poor light in the eyes of his men, a fact that he would not have minded before their betrothal, almost welcomed, even. It was amazing what changes a ballroom announcement could work in a man’s perspective.

He hadn’t told Celvi about the pass one of Christabel’s other ladies-in-waiting had made at him after their betrothal announcement. She’d cornered him on his way back to his rooms (rather worse for the wear, he had to admit, having consumed copious amounts of ice wine to deal with the sudden news of his engagement) and batted her eyelashes at him. He had been mid-kiss before he remembered himself and pushed her away, but by then the damage had already been done. A betrothal was a promise of sorts, even if it hadn’t been his choice, and he immediately regretted his momentary dalliance.

Which was probably a reason why he’d brought that particular item out on their ride today. A combination of guilt and hope. What an auspicious beginning, he thought wryly. Still, he felt a bit better about the situation when Celvi smiled at his suggestion – was it perhaps genuine? It was impossible for him to tell. “I must obey my lady’s wishes,” he told his men, flashing a mostly genuine smile of his own. “Carry on.”

“Sir.” Corporal Gaynes gave the grand duke a crisp salute. “Thank you, milady.”

Alex returned the regiment’s salute and rode on. The cold, clean air outside the palace cleared his head and made him feel alive again. It was so easy to get bogged down in discontent and hopelessness in the gray corridors and tight, crowded quarters of the royal residence. Even the presence of his reluctant bride-to-be couldn’t mar this taste of freedom for the grand duke. As they approached the tree line, he could see the ice glittering on the tree branches like so much spun sugar. They said the weather was fairer in Mar’vol and Zallia, but the icy reaches of Lamora were home to him. He could never imagine it any other way.

He glanced over at his riding companion. It was hard for him to think of something to say, now that they were free of the prying eyes of the court. There it was a charade, one very similar to the one he’d engaged in his entire life. But out here it felt wrong to pretend affection that simply did not exist between them. And yet… He felt the lump in his pocket, considering. No, not yet. First let them get through ten minutes alone together without quarreling. The remembrance of their first confrontation in the library brought a twisted smile to his lips. How bittersweet that memory was now! He had thought himself burdened then; how much more obligation had the queen heaped upon his shoulders now with this betrothal.

He still did wonder how much Celvi’s kidnapping had to do with their present situation. Had Bell used it as leverage to get her lady-in-waiting married off? Gazing around the landscape they were riding into, it occurred to him that perhaps this route was not the best. “If you like, we could ride somewhere else,” Alex suggested, breaking his silence at last. “I know the river must hold terrors for you, despite my protection.” He patted the hilt of his sword, strapped to his saddle, with a confident smile.

((OOC - I can scrap the last paragraph if you prefer Celvi to take the conversational lead))

[Celvi Gray]

Once again Celvi had to grudgingly admire the acting skills of her husband-to-be. Without so much as any discernable effort, he made his regiment believe that he would only too gladly follow her every wish, at least in any reasonable limits. He followed the act of happily or at least not unhappily betrothed man to a tee, even had the slightly uneasy air when talking about it with his men down to perfection. As if he was ashamed to admit how much he actually liked to be in this situation. Duke Alexander Redwood might claim that he hated nothing more than courtiers and their false behaviors, but right now he was giving a very good impression of one. Or was he actually being genuine? His smile had not seemed in the least bit forced, but the sheer thought of that was ridiculous! He had made it more than clear that he would rather die in battle than being forced into an union such as this, and why should he have changed his mind practically in a few days? And even if he had… what was it to her?! She would never learn to love him, or anything else the court would expect from her. Except for being a dutiful wife. Celvi would just have to play her part, for her family’s honor and for her own. That didn’t mean she would ever genuinely like her husband, but she would try to keep up appearances in public.

Maybe it would be easier for her, if she never had experienced true love. If there wasn’t someone in her life she wished to give her all, that all that should belong solely to her husband. Her love, her life, her body and her soul. Her soul and her love already belonged to that certain one: Chase Cantwell, but her life and her body would soon belong to the man that now rode by her side. She had no choice, the choices had long since been made for her. They had even been made when she was born a lady and Chase a commoner. It could have been any man claiming her in the end, now it had become the Grand Duke, but the point was that it would never have been Chase. She needed to accept that fact eventually, and yet she still could feel his lips on hers in that one, forbidden but oh-so-sweet kiss they had shared only minutes before her betrothal had been announced.

But Celvi also knew that she had to ban Chase from her thoughts, if not forever than at least for now. She couldn’t risk anyone realizing that her thoughts were wandering and possibly wondering about the direction, guessing too much. Alexander Redwood was far too observing in some things to let her even dare to think she would get away with such stunts for long. While they rode, she snuck a few glances at him, trying to find out his mood. Was he still wearing that mask, or would he soon begin to talk genuinely, maybe lash out at her? Or was he waiting for her to do the same thing? Good Runnori, if she had thought being alone with him without witnesses would be any easier, then she had clearly been wrong. They were closing in on the river now, nearing the same area where her abduction had happened. There, there was the edge of the forest when they had left the horses behind and Christabel had started a race. There was the crippled tree where the soldiers had finally cornered her, after she had nearly been able to make it to Artano…

As if he had read her thoughts – what a disturbing idea! – The Grand Duke suddenly said:
“If you like, we could ride somewhere else,” . “I know the river must hold terrors for you, despite my protection.”
Celvi’s head darted around towards him, and it was all she could do not to snort and laugh, half way torn between amusement and indignation. Despite his protection?! What did he take himself for, Runnori’s lover, the warlord demigod?! As if he could fight off a band of Mar’volian mercenaries single-handed! And the way he fondled his sword… it was so aloof, so self-assured, a typical Grand Duke gesture that made her blood simmer. But she could not lose her temper now… not again. That would be fatal. But of course, she had to say SOMETHING, he clearly waited for an answer. She wouldn’t play the timid, fearful damsel for him though. She would be as honest as she could while still being polite.

”In all honesty, Mylord, I doubt even Mar’volians would be so stupid as to go after the same wrong lady a second time”, she pointed out with a light shrug. “I should be relatively safe. Let’s not ride somewhere else, I still love the riverside, regardless what happened there. And, like you pointed out… I have you for protection after all.” Had that sounded too ironic? She hoped not.

((Sorry, I wrote a novel again you don't have to answer that in length!))

[Grand Duke Alexander Redwood]

Although her words were polite, Alex had an inkling that she was none too impressed with his concern for her welfare. For someone who had been born into a rather lowly station (compared to himself), Lady Celvi Gray seemed impressed by absolutely nothing he did. He wasn’t sure if he preferred it to the overly dazzled damsels that made up the rest of the court. Neither approach did anything but glance at his blond hair and handsome mien to pass judgement. Besides, didn’t she realize what an effort he was making to be nice to her? This blasted betrothal had been no choice of his; he had no obligation to think of her comfort with the whole situation, except that demanded by his guilty conscience. For someone who accused him of selfishness at every turn, Celvi was extraordinarily self-centered herself.

Besides, he didn’t mean that she would be worried about the actual threat of kidnappers, but rather the nausea that comes with revisiting the scene of traumatic circumstances. He still kept his old quarters at the ducal residence on his estates, feeling far too haunted by the room where his father had died. Although the servants had cleaned his father’s old quarters many times over the intervening years, Alex still imagined the stench of sickness whenever he ventured in there. And there were certain beautiful landscapes on the border forever marred by battle, though the forces of man and nature had removed all evidence of carnage from the place. He wasn’t about to explain himself to Lady Celvi, however. It seemed no matter what he said, she was determined to misconstrue his meaning.

He settled for empty platitudes instead. “As you wish, milady.” Their horses’ hooves crunched on the snow underfoot, rendered icy by the cold. Alex removed his hand from his pocket for now, resting it on his thigh to stop his nervous fiddling with object inside. Now wasn’t the right moment. If there ever would be a right moment in this uneasy relationship. Somehow he doubted it. She was far too eager to take offense at the most innocuous of words.

His dark eyes slipped sidelong to glance at his bride-to-be. It was impossible for him to understand what went on in that mind of hers. Did she know about his indiscretion after the ball? Would she even care? It was hard to tell exactly what she cared about, besides her father. Hmmm. Perhaps that was the key to her goodwill, or at least her neutrality when it came to her opinion of him. Maybe he shouldn't care too much about what she thought of him, but their marriage would a trial indeed if every encounter was as awkward as this.

“Has your father heard the… news?” Alex asked, omitting the word “good” at the last moment. From their conversation on the balcony, he could tell she considered their engagement as terrible a turn of events as he, although he still couldn’t fathom why. He was not a bad man, or bad looking, and certainly every girl dreamed of marrying into fortune and title, didn’t they?

[Celvi Gray]

Celvi could tell that her fiancé was not overly pleased with her independence. Maybe he liked girls who saw him as the big war hero, and who liked to play on the ‘damsel in distress’ act. Celvi had been a ‘damsel in distress’ herself, but she had stayed strong and had made it out of this ordeal without much help of a man. All those knights in shining armor had not appeared when she had been dragged off into Mar’vol, past the battlefields and all patrols. Could anyone blame her that her faith in men as saviors was seriously blemished by now? There hadn’t been much faith to begin with after all, and she would have rather cut off her hand than extend it towards Alexander Redwood even before her abduction – ever since she had realized what an annoying, arrogant prick he really was – so now he could even be thankful she was polite enough to not shower him with scorn.

Idly she wondered if they would ever find that delicate, thin level of understanding again they had reached once, until they had inexorably clashed again. That brief moment where he had almost viewed her with respect, had considered on teaching her more on war tactics. That had also been the moment they had made that fateful wager, her claiming that she would recognize him under all those masks, because implicitely she had wanted to say that she saw beneath his royal exterior – even if what she found there didn’t necessarily have to be positive things though. Of course they had even bickered about the outcome of the wager, because she had only JUST recognized him at the stroke of midnight, simply because she had been too occupied with… other things earlier. Then the announcement of the engagement and Christabel’s birthday gift had completely put all these things out of both their minds. Would the matter ever be resolved? But then… what would it matter. He probably wouldn’t let her win, in fear of owing her a favor that might make him lose face, and he… he was her fiancé now. He could demand a kiss every time he wanted. Without the wager. Sweet Runnori, how simple life had seemed before her abduction. How could she ever have dared to call herself unhappy back then?!

The silence that threatened to fall on them now was as icy as the ground they were riding over. And then, to her surprise, it was the Grand Duke that broke it. Should she consider that a little victory, or take all thoughts of competition and conflict between aside for even just a moment, so an actual conversation could ensue? Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. They had to TRY and make this work, alright? Else he wouldn’t have asked her for a ride out like this: In private, away from prying eyes, with no need to keep up pretenses. Something was afoot, but maybe she should stop fighting against it? It might only make him too suspicious. She wouldn’t play gushingly happy, but she could at least try to appear a little less hostile.
His careful circumnavigating of the phrase ‘good news’ didn’t escape her, but she only answered it with a fleeting amused smile. At least her father was something she liked to talk about.

”I am sure my aunt wrote to him immediately after it was announced”, she remarked. “But I doubt he found it necessary to write a reply, he’ll be here the day after tomorrow after all!” The last words had revealed a little of her excitement of that fact, and this once she decided not to hide it behind a polite mask. “You cannot imagine how relieved I am to have him here with me, if only for a little while. He hasn’t been home in now almost five years!” Then she threw a sidelong glance at her husband-to-be, wondering what her father would make of him. He had lauded him in his last letter, but maybe his opinion would change once they spoke in person?
”He will want to speak to you soon after, I guess.”

[Grand Duke Alexander Redwood]

The grand duke’s breath left a little puff of vapor in the frozen air as he listened to her speak. It was almost bizarre to hear Celvi talk with something approaching enthusiasm without it being colored by enmity. Any emotions she’d shown towards him thus far had been, on the whole, quite negative. The corners of his mouth upturned ever so slightly, the sheerest hint of a smile. “I’m glad for you,” Alex said when she mentioned her father’s imminent arrival. He glanced her way. When their eyes met, he looked away, down at his horse’s ears.

Their steeds picked their way across the icy river shore, crunching loudly as Celvi continued speaking. “Which regiment is he with?” he asked. “I'll arrange for a longer leave, or even a new post closer to home.” He spoke carelessly, for this was something rather easy for him to bring about. He was the queen’s nephew, after all, and someone she respected in matters military, if not of the heart. He knew all of the regimental commanders and generals who orchestrated Lamora’s grand strategy. The transfer of one man was one thing he could easily accomplish (and given the way Alex’s control over his own life had spun wildly out of control with the queen’s pronouncement, he was grateful for an opportunity to reclaim agency), and if it went some way toward softening his strangely hostile fiancee toward him, well then all the better.

He wondered what Celvi’s father was like – anything at all like his own? He rather doubted it. Celvi seemed to have very little understanding of honor and duty, notions that had underpinned every conversation he’d ever had with his own father. It went without saying that he would be proud to have Alex as a son-in-law – what father wouldn’t be happy to see his daughter wed far above her station? Of course.

Yet, there was a small worm of doubt in his mind. After all, Alex often felt he didn’t live up to the standards set by his father. Despite what his outward confidence, he was quite familiar with doubt and reproach. Since his father’s death, most of this opprobrium had come from inside himself, imagining what the late grand duke would have to say about this or that. Alex wondered what his father would have thought of Celvi. He’d had little respect for courtiers, but even less for those who flouted the roles they had been born into. Would he have approved of the queen’s decision, or scowled in private? Looking over at his bride-to-be, Alex found it hard to imagine what his father would have to say.

He nodded at her last sentence. “Of course,” he replied, only half in the conversation, the rest of his mind lost in memory and conjecture. What would his mother have thought of the fey-eyed girl he would very soon call his wife? Alex had only the dimmest memories of his mother, a haze of blonde hair, white gowns, and a soft musical voice calling him “Sasha”. It was impossible to tell what she would have to say about anything in his life. She hadn’t been suited for the stressful life of a queen, being too fragile and worried, or so he’d heard it said. He liked to think that she would want to see him happy and not imprisoned in a loveless marriage.

Alex only realized belatedly that his gaze had rested on Celvi for far too long as he turned the matter over in his head.

[Celvi Gray]

He said he was glad… and yet he could not meet her eyes. What was she to make of that then?! Was he really glad or was that just lipservice? Something to say to appease her so they would not end up at each other’s throats again, because the honest answer would be: ‘I don’t care about you being happy, just because your father comes home?’ Or was she giving him far too little credit again and there was a different reason for him not meeting her eyes? After all, hadn’t she thought to see at least the hint of a smile on his face before? Something that could suggest he at least felt her emotions, even if it might be too much to ask for him to return them? But what other reason could there be… it was all too complicated! She shouldn’t rack her brain about this, maybe she should simply accept that she would never be able to read this man and be done with it.

“Which regiment is he with?” he asked. “I'll arrange for a longer leave, or even a new post closer to home.”
Celvi’s head whipped around towards the Grand Duke at his words, and for a moment the disbelief and utmost surprise was clearly written all over her face, until she could resume control of her features again. Had he really just said he would arrange for her father to have a post closer to home?! That would mean… that would mean so much! And yet, on second glance, so little. “You… you mean that?” she had to reassure. “You would really do that?” But of course, she also couldn’t help but think: So this is what it is like for those highest up. Everything is possible. I could have had my father around me sooner, had I just been engaged to the right man. How two-faced it all is! And now I am part of this world!
Hiding these sentiments from him was hard, but she tried for peace’s sake. And even though it felt like she was giving herself a little into his hands, she explained: “He is commanding one of the bataillons of foot soldiers permanently stationed on the main battlefield at the center border area. Third bataillon of Lord Trayfort’s regiment if I recall correctly.” That maybe hadn’t been the most lady-like answer, knowing so much about where her father was serving and who under, but then, she had shown him before that she was not completely ignorant of military affairs.

Her fiancé seemed to be deep in thoughts for a moment, and Celvi felt no inclination towards disturbing that silence that had build up between them. She didn’t mind silence, it enabled her to blend a few things out, his presence for one. Of course, there was no denying him still riding side by side with her, but as long as he remained that inobtrusive, she could deal with him far better. Was that how their future life together would be like: Co-existance? Well… he had hinted at something like that, hadn’t he? First produce an heir and a spare, and after that they could go their separate ways. But the first part of the deal had to be fulfilled before that could happen. And the sheer thought made Celvi kind of sick. Not that he was a repulsive man, no, by looks even on the contrary, just that… she could not imagine that kind of intimacy between him and her, who were so adamant on disliking each other. But what was her choice in the end? Simple answer: There never was one.

She looked over at him again, and to her surprise found his eyes resting on her with a pondering expression. How long had he been looking at her like that? And what was on his mind?!
“What is it?” she asked, not even that challengingly or abrasively, there was a hint of genuine interest in her voice. She really would like a clearer view into his head sometimes. He still was a mystery, and Celvi knew that mysteries most of the the time meant trouble for her.