• Royal

    Nothing amazing, nothing I want. Those were the only thoughts that raced through my head as I met the one I was to be wed. He looked almost deformed. He seemed nervous, like a school boy to meet the queen. And I had no idea why they had chosen him, of all the conceited, overly-proud, yet handsome men that would be a perfect fit for someone like me.
    Holding my breath -expecting a stench-, I reached my hand out, palm down, for him to kiss the back of my hand. This gesture confused him visibly, his expression twisting more than it already was.
    I let my breath out in a sigh. "Kiss it." I said, disappointment plain in my voice. In my cold eyes. My parents shot my a glaring glance. I ignored them.
    His expression changed from nervous, to furious.
    "Who do you expect I am? I am not a peasant, I am to be your husband!" He yelled, and I could hear the gasp of my mother, regretting her choice. I enjoyed that. I just smiled, raising one eyebrow. I waited, leaving the bait, not going any farther.
    He glared at me, an angry expression that did not fit his bright red, clogged pores and too-large nose. I just kept my expression straight, with a little effort, holding my hand out. He was beginning to become what I had wanted. Except the looks.
    "Well?" Was all I asked, holding my chin high, waiting for him to kiss my hand. He sighed in defeat, and I knew I had won, as I always did. He leaned forward, and touched his tight lips quickly to the back of my hand.
    Pulling it away quickly, I turned, and shook my head at Mother and Father, and marched up to my chambers.

    [Sorry, lost my ideas. I'll write more when I my writer's block goes away.]