Lady Genevieve Grey had dreamt of her upcoming nuptials to Prince Cassian everyday since they had become betrothed only the summer before. Coming from a lesser noble family Lady Genevieve would normally never be considered for a marriage to someone so high in rank. Prince Cassian was the King's son after all and one day he would take the throne himself. That made him the most eligible man in the kingdom and soon he would be Genevieve's.
She had last seen him a year ago at a summer tourney hosted by their liege Lord. All the marriageable, young maidens in the region had been in attendance as it was rumored that the Prince was touring the kingdom looking for a wife. Genevieve had, like many of these young maidens, fallen in love with him simply from hearing tales of his gallantry and grace. To speak nothing of his exquisite beauty. It was rumored that even the most seasoned of courtesans were struck dumb by his comeliness. Not that he would ever partake in their services.
The reality far exceeded their expectations. He was tall in stature with a lithe physique and a finely defined jaw that gave a commanding noble presence. Yet beneath fair ringlets atop his head, that glowed like a golden crown, were two gentle pools of sapphires that shimmered with a kindness.
Geneveive and the other maidens had all gathered to watch him practice for the tourney before the events began. He practiced shirtless and they were all captivated by the sight of his bare, chiseled chest. With every graceful swing of his wooden practice sword he showed the skill of a master swordsman.
Prince Cassian was not the only one to be of such a great allure to the opposite sex for Lady Genivieve had had found herself the fixation of many eligible young suitors. Genevieve was amongst the most beautiful maiden of the region, with a slim waist and a fair, unmarked face, but it was her glossy, auburn hair that truly made her stand out amongst the others. She and her younger sister, Francesca, had been the only ones out of their seven siblings to inherit the shade from their late mother.
Unfortunately, it was her hair that caught the attention of the King's younger brother, Gregor. He was much unlike his nephew with a reputation tainted by tales of his brutality and incivility. Two decades ago the late King Herald had ordered the annexation of the neighboring kingdom of Xylos. Gregor had been the one to take command of the assault of the small kingdom. He pillaged village after village leaving no one unmolested. For a year the eastern sky was orange and smokey as he burnt their farmlands to the ground. It didn't take long for them to surrender.
It was rumored that he would conduct all the King's dirty work in secret. If the King's policies were met with any opposition it would not be a fortnight before that Lord was found mysteriously, but brutally murdered.
In these times of peace these small acts of violence were not enough to satiate him. He would satisfy his bloodlust by mercilessly taking the maidenheads of the virginal daughters of commoners or servants on a whim. None protested against the brother of the King.
Yet when Genevieve first saw him she thought the rumors must be exaggerated. Gregor had arrived at the tourney grounds, with the royal party, drunk and stumbling. Hewas dressed in dirty and disheveled clothing, his peppered black hair was ruffled and greasy, and his face was unshaven. One might expect all that after a long journey from the capital, but Genevieve had an inkling that it was not far off from his regular appearance. His squinting glassy eyes and slurred speech made him seem more buffoon than a brute. Overall he was quite unbecoming for a man of nearly fifty years of age, let alone his station.
It was only the long scar that ran diagonal down the left side of his face that frightened Genevieve. The raised and puckered tissue ran down his cheek and cut through the corner of his mouth in a way that created an unsettling twist to every expression.
Gregor's lecherous reputation soon proved true as he spent the first two days of the tourney speaking crassly about and to even the noble women in attendance and groped the wenches who served him. The women were all warned to not walk alone while he was in attendance.
Genevieve should have paid more attention to the warning. On the third day she had gone to the stables to pet the horses while her family watched the archery competition. She found that the dullest of the games. She was standing at a stall admiring a white mare when she felt someone's hot breath at the nape of her neck.
She immediately spun around and found herself frozen in place as Gregor stood before her.
"Well, aren't you a pretty little thing?"
Genevive tried to back away, but she was already against a stall door. There was nowhere to go. She was sure she couldn't escape him. He might be older, but he towered over her. Gregor moved closer so their bodies touched and Genevieve felt his warmth. He was uncharacteristically gentle as he caressed her face with his rough hands, but the next thing she knew he had forced his mouth onto her hers while his hands grabbed at her body roughly. The wine on his breath was intoxicating.
It was at that moment that Prince Cassian had come calling for his uncle. A flustered Genevieve was released by Gregor as he turned to yell at his nephew for disturbing him. Prince Cassian took in the situation and then told Gregor that the King wanted his brother to come to him at once. Genevieve was sure that it was a lie Cassian had told to rescue her. Once Gregor had stumbled away the Prince apologized profusely for his uncles behavior and escorted her personally back to her family offering her a gentle kiss on her hand and bow as he bid her farewell.
The next afternoon during the jousts when she and Prince Cassian had locked eyes he directed his horse over to her. Fully clad in his brilliant gleaming armor he reached up to where Genevieve was sitting in the stands and offered her a delicate white rose. She thanked him profusely, but he only said the rose did not compare in beauty to her.
Genevieve now kept the rose pressed in a book and hidden in her trunk in the bedchamber she shared with her sisters. The rose was her most precious possession. Even now, almost a year later, it still held a sweet floral scent. In secret, she would pull out the book and dream of her Prince Cassian.
He truly was hers, she thought. For only a fortnight after the tourney a royal messenger came to deliver to Genevieve's father, Lord Philip Grey. It had the royal seal and contained a request for betrothal of marriage between the Lady Genevieve Grey and the Prince. Without a second thought her father had immediately written a reply accepting the request and the messenger was off with it the very next day.
