When she was fully satiated, Lucien had escorted her back to a room at the end of the hall and this time, she had refused to let him carry her back, and apparently, he found that amusing. When the doors to the room creaked open, she gasped.
The chandeliers and candelabras were made from gold, the peach drapes and duvets accentuating the ambiance, while the stained-glass cast an otherworldly glow on the incense that burned at a corner, wafting into her nostrils soothing the soreness she felt from the journey.
All of these were far more than she owned at home, but as much as she could have loved to show her excitement, the disappointment she felt overshadowed it all. She'd hoped to share a room with the prince in an attempt to speed things up. And just like her mother had advised, to give him an heir and seal up her position as the future Empress.
"Do you not like it, Wyn? I guess I made the wrong room choice. But, worry not, I'll have it redecorated to suit your taste first thing in the morning."
The prince inquired softly, noticing the fall in her countenance.
She waved her hand to disagree, "No, no! I love it. It's beautiful,"' she stuttered.
His gaze held hers for what felt like minutes, then he nodded, folding his arms on his chest. "Rest now. I will come pick you up in the morning to take you sightseeing as soon as I am done with the court."
She nodded in understanding and when she turned to leave, he grabbed hold of her hand, turning her back to face him,
"Bronwyn," he rasped out her name, and all she wanted to do was hear him say her name over and over again. Then his thumb nudged her chin up. "I will not leave you unattended. I promise,"
Then, as fast as he had held her hand, his lips once again descended on her cheeks. The moment he bid her goodnight with another kiss she rushed inside, changing out of the painfully tight gown she had on, the princess sighed, falling into the abyss of slumber the moment her back touched the bed.
The princess groaned out in annoyance when the persistent knocks at the door continued on. When her eyelids fluttered open, she nearly gorged her eyes out at the blinding lights that pierced their way into the room, she squinted her eyes, darting out of bed to pull the drapes down.
She gasped when the knock sounded again, remembering the prince had promised to go sightseeing with her. She ran over to the door, shrugging it open with anticipation.
Her smile suddenly faltered when she saw the figure standing just outside the door, "Empress!"
Gathering back her sanity, she made a quick curtesy, acknowledging the crown prince's mother. Eldritch flashed her a smile as beautiful as her son's, she walked into the room with all the grace of an Empress, her velvet dress fanning the ground behind her.
Once she had gotten to bed, she sat down. "Come, my dear." She motioned for Bronwyn to come over, making her sit right beside her. The princess fidgeted.
"I am deeply sorry about that awful welcome we gave you last night. We did not mean to ruin your first day in Narva by behaving selfishly. I apologize on behalf of the emperor and all the Blackstone household. Tonight, the emperor has vowed to have a feast in your name."
Bronwyn nodded in embarrassment at the Empress' sudden politeness and when she noticed she wouldn't hold her gaze, she jerked the princess' face up to hers, "Please, take me as your mother. I would like that with the future Empress of Narva."
"Yes, Empress."
Lucien's mother chuckled, raising a brow at Bronwyn's response.
She hurriedly repeated, "Yes, Mother."
"Perfect," she purred just as she lifted off the bed, strutting towards the door. "Do tell me if Lucien is being a hassle, and I'll put him right in his place. The boy can be a handful most times."
Her lips curled back in a small smile as she whispered a 'Yes, mother.' trying to adjust to the new way of addressing the Empress. Then the door shut close behind her.
She spent the next few minutes getting ready for the prince. Bronwyn laid back down on the enormous bed, glancing through the pages of the book she read that contained the history of the Blackstone court as minutes bled into hours, and she continued to await the prince's arrival.
She had enjoyed reading about the Narvan kingdom since she was but a child and had since loved the Empire of Narva, but now that she was in the said kingdom, she felt utterly lonely and devastated as she eagerly awaited the arrival of the prince.
She smoothed the edge of the silk burgundy tunic she wore that felt comfortable and classy at the same time, with her auburn curls wrapped into a messy bun she fixed an anklet on both ankles, remembering she had gone through the stress of dabbling a little bit of color on her cheeks, painting her lips a bright shade of scarlet.
Pleased with the person staring back at her in the mirror, she let out a sigh. Then a loud bang ricocheted from outside her room. She jolted to her feet when the door swung open. Her eyes widened,
"My Prince!"
She could see exhaustion clearly written on his face as his brows creased, his temples married with worry lines and his hair which had once been slicked back elegantly ruffled from his hands being raked through them too many a time. And heck if he didn't look like a pretty hot mess.
Biting hard on her lips was all Bronwyn could do to keep still and not rush into his waiting arms. His eyes greedily roamed through her body, each heated glance slowly devouring her and unnerving every bit of her.