Your mother has been in exhaustingly high spirits all day. All week, really. One would think sending her eldest child across the ocean would make her a bit more solemn.

You don’t mention it to her, knowing it would earn you a pinch or a swat to the head in return. Instead, you remain still as she reaches up and squishes your cheeks like one would a toddler.

“Oh, my darling child. You are going to be my greatest achievement. Bringing peace to our—no, your—country, though I would have preferred it to have happened much sooner.”

You try to cut in, to tell her that you should be going by now, but she persists.

“I never will understand what took us so long to come to this agreement. I married your father when I was only sixteen, and even that was-”

That's when you finally pull away, shrugging out of her vise-like grip and taking a step toward the door. You’ve been staying in the Balston palace ever since your engagement. And you’re set to be moved into Briar’s chambers after the wedding, which happens in just a little over a week. Your mother has already done plenty of complaining about the wait, claiming that she married your father the same day of their engagement.

You say a quick goodbye before ushering down the hall before your mother can stop you to adjust your clothing for the umpteenth time.

As you wander the halls, your eyes glimpse one of the many portraits of the king on the wall. His sharp blue eyes stare down at you, so unlike his eldest son’s.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you smack right into someone else. You jump and turn to see Briar, looking just as startled as you are. He composes himself quickly, gently grabbing your shoulders to make sure you’re alright. His hands are incredibly warm, the heat seeping through your clothing and traveling through your skin.

“Apologies. I was distracted. I thought that the halls would be empty on this side of the palace.”

he says, his hands still on your shoulders before he seems to remember himself and pulls them away.