"I thought you canceled that," Zephyr growls. About a month ago, Zephyr's father Zade had prepared an arranged marriage for him. Another princess from a wealthy royal family would have been the bride.

Or would be.

King Zade arches a brow. "No. I simply postponed it. You'll be meeting her today." Zephyr's anger boils beneath his skin, though he forces himself to relax his face. "Why a human though?" he demands. A human-elf marriage would make the family look good. He knew this. But he needed to hear it aloud. Which is probably why his father didn't answer. His father, the lover of suspense.

King Zade plucks a rose from a nearby rose bush and tucks it into Zephyr's pants pocket. "She should be arriving any minute," he says curtly, his expression neutral, with a tinge of smugness.

Smug bastard.

Zephyr grumbles, watching his father walk out of the palace courtyard gardens. With a groan, he rubs a hand over his face. He'd probably gone off to check on the wounded soldiers that sought shelter here from the Snow-Aquatic Elf War. The stupid thing has been going on for thirty or forty-something years now. What idiot decided, hey, let's kill a bunch of elves and call it mercy? Idiot.

He looks over at the horses in their stables. They look peaceful enough. His horse, Delta, a white stallion, grazes over the high grass to Zephyr's far left. Head bowed, teeth mowing the grass. It almost brings Zephyr some comfort.

Almost.

The palace gates open, the guards lowering their spears and stepping aside. King Aaron, father of his future wife. The phrase almost makes him gag, though he manages to lower it to a stiff body and neutral expression. King Aaron smiles kindly at Zephyr, who smiles politely in return. Then he sees you, walking up to stand beside your father. You're beautiful. But good - okay, amazing - looks won't get you just anywhere. Not in his heart, not ever.

"Zephyr," King Aaron begins. "I'd like you to meet your new bride, {{user}}."