The Royal CEO's Bride -Treason & Temptation

Ephene.

I open my eyes slowly gaining recognition of my surroundings.

As with every day I wake up, I take note of the curtains.

Soft pink with gold stitching, it perfectly mirrors my person.

Each morning, I look to it in hopes that my mother would be by its side.

Yet always, I am sorely disappointed to find a maid ready to tend to my needs.

It is what I get after all, for being my mother's accursed child.

The result of her misfortune and her sole reason for being tied to my no good father.

Their marriage was a scandal that swept the nations, as word got out that the young heir to the throne of Niarciss, wedded to cover the growing evidence of his darker desires.

That's me.

Pale, raven haired, and green eyed.

More importantly, a haunting reminder of the troubles of my mother's youth -having only come freshly into womanhood when she became with child.

Still I wonder why I do not receive a sliver of her love.

She had been infatuated with my father since little girlhood.

It makes no sense, but I accept some things in my life never will.

The attendant was not there.

So my gaze travelled from the curtains to my bedside, sure I would see her then.

The young palace maid steps aside and curtesies deeply.

I nod and make to speak, but the words die in my throat when I realize she had moved away to reveal my mother, standing in all her regal essence by the edge of my curtain.

I take in a deep breath, unsure of what to say as her grey orbs pierced mine.

"Mother." I finally say, but this comes out as a mere whisper.

"Is that the best way you can greet the woman who brought you into this world?" she says a cynical smile playing on her bright red lips.

"No Mother, I suppose not."

With as much reverence as I could muster for the woman, I curtsied and gave a more befitting response.

She only nodded and said no more.

I try my best to remain complacent, but a shameful need makes it's way through me.

"Have you come to see to my birthday preparations Mother?"

My feet slide over polished floors, leaving my bedroom slippers behind.

"No. I have come to see you become a woman fit to be queen one day."

Dismay and confusion settle over me, but still I trail behind her ornamental skirt.

"What ever do you mean by that Mother?" I say, gently clasping my tiny hands together.

"Oh, you will see soon enough. Now let Agatha get you ready for the day." she says, before her overbearing garments leave a trail of gloom.

The young help merely smiles sheepishly, and tries to lift my spirits.

I ignore the stubby woman's words, rather stretching my hands so she can strip me.

I need no pity.

_____________________

My birthday festivities are in full swing by the time I'm in royal regalia.

My feet glimmers in uniformity with my pale gold dress. And like the fluffy fabric, flowed in waves behind my ears.

I can feel combs of the silver tiara on each side of my skull, and I chin up as it pins a mesh veil down the length of my knee-long hair.

"You look exquisite princess." rings in my ear as I near the corridor.

My maid had been the one to echo this sentiment as with many others, still I wonder if my mother would find me half as beautiful.

The intended sigh is swallowed, when delicate fingers touch my shoulder.

I look up to see none other than my mother gently appraising me with her eyes.

"Good day Mother. I have done as you asked and let Agatha tend me. Do you intend on making a grand entrance with me?" I say, half expecting to be disappointed again.

"Indeed. Come, let us walk together." she says, firm lips betraying neither displeasure nor eagerness.

I blink, trying to figure out whether I had heard right or was showing signs of partial deafness.

"Don't just stand there, move along now." she says, drifting further by the second.

In a most unladylike manner I quicken my strides to catch up to her.

We round a corner, and from there I see the only mop of white hair I could recognize from a mile away.

The owner turns around and I stare at the darkest pair of blues, only the night sky could rival.

Gevin.

The eldest child of King Markolin of Berdonia.

Though five years my senior I do not mind a possible future one day.

Seizing the opportunity, I observe how quickly his boyish features are becoming more masculine by the day.

"Tut tut tut."

My head whips in the direction of the noise, and my cheeks burn hot as I see I had been caught by none other than my Mother.

"I'm sorry Mother." I whisper, afraid to look in her eyes and see disappointment.

Instead, her slender hands lift my chin ever so gently so my downcast eyes would meet her gaze.

"You like him do you not?" she says, quirking beautiful arched brows.

"Mother I-"

"-His handsomeness captivates you, and mere presence is like a heady potion. You struggle for the right words to say. And when he gives you his sole attention, it is as if your heart just soared over the moon?" she says knowing all too well.

"Well, yes mother."

Her fingers dig into my skin, and gaze paralyzes me so I cannot look anywhere but her stormy eyes.

"My dearest daughter, it is time you realize that life is not a fantasy, and fairytales do not exist. One day you will be queen, and by that day I hope you will have learnt that you are a better leader heartless. Love will only render you vulnerable, and painful reality...make you wish you never dreamt." she says, an echo of a smile tracing her lips.

Fear disorients me so much that I cough on saliva, and she releases my chin, dusting imaginary dirt off her fingers.

"Do you not see that there is no happy ending?" she says, and I follow her finger to the garden below.

Gevin whispers something in an older girl's ear, and she threw her head back, her red curls bouncing as she laughed.

It hits me so hard that for a moment I'm sure flesh is replaced by glass, and my heart is shattered into tiny shards.

A salty liquid rolls down my cheek and she coos quickly wiping it off.

"Now now dear don't cry, everyone is waiting to see the heir of this dynasty..." she says with patronization I had mistaken for affection back then. "...Always smile, you must be someone beyond their understanding -and hurting."

I try, and after some seconds I feel control return as the tears no longer threaten to spill.

Moving my eyes from the smiling pair, I breathe in as stare at woman whose stance I better understood. "Yes Mother."

For the first time she gives me her hand and we descend the stairs.

"Now the celebration can really begin."

Hugo

I paused, looking out the dreary window to the grey skies.

It was about to pour soon, and much like my heart it was heavy and in need of relief.

Never had I felt more scorned in my life.

Kelia, that traitor, was soon to marry Prince Gevin.

Of all the people she could have wounded me for, she chose my arch rival.

My finger recoils, and I force myself not to ruin the invite in my had.

I can hear the whispers through the wall.

Since word spread yesterday the palace has been ablaze with eager ears at the news.

That should've been me.

I did her well, loved her right, yet that wasn't enough.

Not even the whole Kingdom of Phylin could satisfy her.

Still I knew if I had the chance, I would relish the scent of lavender from her hair as I held her one last time.

And that thought enraged me the most of all.

Wide mahogany doors to my room opened, and a palace maid bowed low.

Her face was pale, and something about her form trembled like a leaf.

"Your Highness the King wishes to speak to you. He says it is an urgent matter and you should come to his chambers right away." she said all too fluidly, and the words collided with each other as I tried to make sense of them.

"Thank you, you may go now." I say turning from the now pouring skies.

Carrying the pain along with me, I rose to my father's bedside.

Deep down I know he's dying, and I'll be left to attend the cursed wedding alone.

In more ways than not I felt just like him; torn, disposed and a shell of a former glory.

Yet he would soon leave behind memories of my adulterous mother, while I would have each day of my sage health to remember Kelia.

A dark door stands before me, and I barge in before he draws his final breath.

"My son...come here child." he says, voice jagged and worn out.

What is left of my strength seeps out as I drag my feet near his silken drapes.

"You are leaving me too, aren't you Father?" I say, a faltering smile on my lips.

My chest tightened as I took in his deathly pallor -he wouldn't make it past the hour.

I'd miss him, I loved my father more than life itself. And to me life had been the woman I treasured.

He slowly cracked a grin of his own, but then burst into a wheezing fit.

I dashed for the cup by his bedside and gave him a drink of warm water.

Some of it drizzled down his chin, and he struggled yet managed to wipe his mouth with a feeble hand before talking.

"Son I know present circumstances have caused you grief, but it is clear you must take the throne now. Marry Ephene, and do all to see Phylin reign as Kingdom supreme. Our forces may merge with Niarciss but know there can be only one supreme ruler on this earth and that man is you. Dominate the world son, it is the one thing that will allow you to control what is out of the hands of many," then his face went devoid of the determination that coated it.

My trembling hands barely managed to close his eyes before a cry tore from my lips.

How I wish it were a mere dagger that pierced me in the chest.

But I bled from hidden places I didn't know where to block.

So I kneel there and sob, weeping like every bit of the broken man I was.

Then I rose from my knees and promised my father I would make him proud.

My name will go down in history as the monarch to be reckoned with.

Even if it's the last thing I do.

Ephene

"I present to you, Princess Ephene of Niarciss." says the royal servant in a booming voice.

The sound of a trumpet adds to the effect, and I brush my skirts as I did when nervous.

Straightening all the more, I lift my chin impossibly higher -not a hint of fear must be seen in my composure.

Instead of their usual pink, my lips shine red, woven tresses lay past my back, and the tiara I on my head catches light from an adjacent window.

Today would be my grand entrance to the Phylin court; the Kingdom of my soon to be husband -one I had imagined myself marrying.

The change had come suddenly after word of Prince Gevin's betrothal was announced.

Thus leaving me uncertain of the future that had been planned to a dot.

I urge myself once more wear my best fake smile, as the imposing curtain is pulled back to reveal a ballroom and red carpet rolled out.

The latter of which, also happened to stop right where the Prince sat.

The other empty seat by his side draws attention to the absence of his late father, and pity stirs within me.

But that is quickly forgotten as my eyes zone in on him, and a soft brow rises.

The young freckled boy I met few times in the past had grown to be handsome?

Not nearly as articulate with Gevins sharp jawline and whitish gold hair, towering an expanse of slanted icy eyes and thin curved lips.

Yet his shoulders were thicker and arms more brunt. Much like the rest of him, a bush formed his eyebrows, wide berth of honey lay in his iris, and tousled curls of brown incited a strange desire to grasp them for myself.

Then as quickly as my brow rose, my legs stoop as I curtesy.

A thunder of applause ensues and for a moment I'm rendered deaf.

Prince Hugo shows no emotion as he walks to meet me where I stand.

When he finally reaches the end of the red carpet, he smiles in a way that do not reach his eyes and kisses my hand.

I suck in a breath, surprise flowing at the intimate contact.

Never has a man dared to kiss me -other than my father.

But he is my betrothed and I accept it for the sake of the eyes watching us.

Hugo offers me an arm and I oblige, looping mine with his.

Then he steers me in the direction of his guests and speaks. "Let the festivities begin!"

Cheers rise from all corners of the room and servants troop in masses, each bearing platters of dishes alongside the most expensive wines.

Jelly, biscuits, meat, puddings -they had it all in artful and rich assortments.

As we get closer to the table I see Mother and Father seated by his uncle and aunt, no doubt standing in for his deceased parents.

They converse eagerly, conversation tinkling over fine fabrics and game finds -each careful to avoid the hostile political affairs brewing beyond our Kingdoms.

While he helped me into my seat, I couldn't help but be bothered over his required chivalry.

A political marriage of this sort, requires I remain unattached in a bid to exploit any affection I hope to conjure within him.

Finally he sits down on the second seat of honor, and his attendants hurry to make fuss of his plate while mine tend to me.

Given we were both monarchs in our own right the table had been made to seat two people at the head of the table.

Immediately, he engages me in friendly conversation while the entertainers descend down another sonnet.

I indulge him to pass time, for later I know we will speak, and prior unspoken ultimatums will come to light.

A spouse may be decided, but each member of the party comes with unique demands for the longevity of the marriage.

Though not exclusively stipulations of my own, I have a mission to achieve.

One that requires me to put on the greatest show of my life.

I glance at my mother, and her small wink as she sipped wine from a goblet reminded me my Kingdom was counting on me.

Truth is, Berdonia is dominating while Niarciss struggles to survive.

With our successive poor harvests and natural disasters, there isn't much our strong troops can do in battle when dying of hunger.

However, with Phylins flourishing agriculture and weak military base our two Kindgoms have become each other's only hope.

I must do what was best for my nation and marry Hugo.

And do what is best for my Kingdom's continuity by dethroning him, so the merged nations will be mine to rule alone.

By evening I struggle to keep my eyes open, and am relieved when Prince Hugo whispers in my ear. "May I have a word with you?"

We stand on the balcony overlooking the palace gardens, our chaperones being out of earshot by the exit.

Bright colors fade against the growing darkness of the day, and wind brushes the hairs used to frame my face from the elegant braid.

"You look beautiful Princess Ephene." Hugo says, out of the blue.

I glance at our chaperones, sure they can't hear us but looking anyways.

Then I turn back to him and reply.

"I thought you wanted to have a word with me, not romance me before night falls," a teasing grin playing on my lips.

That should be coy enough.

"I apologize for making you wait till our guests are drunk, but it would be a disservice to ignore such a stunning sight." he says with an added sheepish grin.

I nod and motion for him to speak. "It is fine, do go on."

"I know we will become husband and wife a week from now." he clears his throat, "Given the sudden nature of this marriage, I would like to cover some fundamental areas." he says with a serious expression.

I cannot help the silent eye roll and unplanned words come tumbling out.

"If this is about sex, you can be rest assured your bed will always be warm. And for the sake of heirs, my mother ensured I took fertility concoctions since age ten," a sigh narrowly missing my throat.

Yet he frowns at me, and irritation flicks in his eyes.

"Do you really think I would have waited this long to ask you about sex?" he says.

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

He shakes his head and looks to the sky.

"Never mind, talking to you at this point is useless. Let us return, you'll be shown to your room."

Offended, and now concerned I had already alienated him from me, I follow after him.

I shall have to devise another plan quickly.