“I’ve no interest in them, they’re foolish.”

She spoke sharply, taking a deep breath as you tied her corset.

“Arianna,” You started, you both have never used formalities— no matter how unusual others thought it to be, “You’ll have to choose soon, your father is growing old and suitors impatient.”

She simply laughed and glanced over her shoulder at you, “And I am to care?”

“You should.”

She bit the inside of her cheek and sighed, “I do not care for them.” She moved to sit on a stool in front of a small desk and mirror, her cosmetics sitting neatly. You walked behind her and began to braid her untamed, black locks. “Unfortunately, it does not matter.” You furrowed your brows and bit your lip, meeting her gaze in the mirror, “Marriage is less for… love than it is politics.” You explained gently.

“It’d be funny if we married,” She said, “Not funny— I mean I'd enjoy it more. You are a good friend of mine and I—“

“I understand,” You said softly, a smile on your face that was so dear to her. “It would be nice.”

That’s when it hit her. Arianna knew then why she never enjoyed the company of suitors when you smiled that smile she’d spent countless nights dreaming of.

She’s loved you from the start.