Arrangements
“But father!” screamed the Princess of Estella. She stood up harshly from her seat at the royal dinner table, her soup now long forgotten. Servants around the table paused at her outburst.
Her father, the King of Estella, merely glared daggers at her from the other end of the long table. He set his wine glass down and set his mouth in a firm line for her outburst was entirely inappropriate.
“I said what I said. Now take a seat, Venetia,” her father harshly commanded and motioned with a ringed finger to sit back down.
Venetia let out a screech and threw her napkin to the ground. She took her chair and pushed it roughly to the floorboards. The servants jumped as the large oak wood chair loudly fell backwards. With a flow of her skirts, Venetia stormed out of the dinning hall.
Her father was entirely out of his mind. Marriage? Was he really that insensitive?
Venetia wanted to tear something up with her bare hands. With a fit of rage, she kicked a metal vase that innocently stood by the wall in the hall. It loudly bounced down the hall and scurried into some dark corner. She hardly cared as a vase had no problems with arrange marriages.
Servants and guards alike stepped aside as Venetia stormed past them. Violence was not her favorite, but her father had pushed her for the last time. Ever since her mother died from giving birth to a stillborn child several years ago, her father grew higher expectations for his only daughter.
Her father first expected her to learn every single fact about the history of her country and the countries around them. Then, he expected her to learn how to dance several kinds of dances, including ones that are nearly extinct in her country. She learned musical instruments, embroidery, flower arrangements, history of tea, table manners, and every other typical thing that would be expected of a princess.
But marriage. That was something entirely else. Marriage was not just a forced course on history or posture training. Marriage was a serious matter to her and her father had no rights in the matter.
And the fact that her mother and her father married out of love and not through an arranged marriage pissed her off even more. Her father had no right to force her into a marriage when he was freely able to choose his own wife. It infuriated her, and she began crying as she entered her private bedchambers.
“Would you like some tea, My Lady?” one of her handmaids, Tellesa, asked as Venetia walked to the loveseat by the unlit fire. Venetia fell on the loveseat and buried her head in the embroidery pillow and let loose a howl that would rival with the blood hounds her father enjoyed to raise.
Her handmaid took the howling as a yes and scurried out of her bedchambers to get the tea.
After a few moments, Venetia stopped her howling and slipped into a heavy silence.
The worst part was the means how her father will sell her to her husband. He informed her at dinner her husband will be determined through a tournament, and any of the greatest nights, lords, dukes, and other country men may participate for her hand in marriage. Whomever won after multiple challenges in the tournament will get engaged to her and win the title of the next king.
In a simple way, she was the trophy for the tournament, and it sickened her to think of it. Her mother would have slapped her father if she knew what he wanted for their daughter. But atlas, her mother was not here to give her father a piece of her mind.
The handmaid came back with the tea and gingerly sat it in front of her. Venetia quietly thanked her and dismissed the handmaid. With an unsteady hand, Venetia lifted the tea cup to her lips and took a long sip of the smooth tea. It soothed her anger.
Whatever her father wanted, she was going to make it hell for him. She will be damned if she bowed down and took the hand of the winner of the tournament. If he wanted fights, he was going to get fights. She was going to not be the trophy for the tournament: she was going to be the burden and the nightmare.
Venetia smiled into her tea cup. She already had juicy plans brewing in her head. This was going to be fun. By the time the tournament finished, she will have men running from her.
By the next morning, messengers were hammering posters of the tournament all over Estella. The townspeople were running up and down the streets to inform their friends and family of the upcoming events. Unmarried men all over the countryside and the castle grounds were certain they could stand a chance at the tournament, and soon there was a long line out of the castle gates for men to sign up to the tournament.
The knights stood the greatest chance at winning the tournament though. This was a fact the other men did not want to dwell on. After years of training and countless of adventures, the king’s knights of Estella were the most cocky about the tournament.
Venetia watched the line of men at the gate of the castle from her balcony. They could not see her, but she stood at the banister with tea in her hand. There had to be over a hundred signing up for a shot for her hand in marriage. She shook her head, not at all surprised by the number of men who lined up on the first day. Marrying her would include extreme wealth and titles above all else in the kingdom. Who would not want a shot at it?
What did surprise her was the following day. She was not made aware the tournament included men from outside of the Estella. Knights from other lands rode to the castle on their well groomed steeds and their squires ran behind them with flags blowing in the wind. That was enough to put Venetia over the edge. She guessed there would be hundreds of men signing their names into the tournament from around the vast lands, and therefore she was worried the tournament will be dragged out for much longer than her father made it out to be.
Her father was taking the arrangements of the tournament on his own shoulders. He was rather excited and he spent many hours planning the tournament challenges. Why he was thrilled about the tournament was beyond Venetia. But she figured it was because the kingdom was rather boring nowadays as they were safe from war. A tournament like this would be a good excuse for entertainment.
After three days of signing men up, her father decided to cut off the sign ups as they got around four hundred names. They ended the signups at four hundred names exactly, and she was surprised there were not more names on the sign up sheet.
By the fourth day, many of the townspeople began placing bets for what knights will win the tournament. Venetia was amused by this as the bets meant many people were pressed on the outcomes of the tournament. This will work to her advantage.
“I want a list of the top names for the most bets,” Venetia ordered one of her handmaids, Rosa. Rosa paled but silently nodded at the princess’s request.
Once her handmaid left her bedchambers in search of a list of names, Venetia looked out of her balcony to the field below. There were dozens of tents pitched throughout the field as knights from other lands staked up camp for the tournament. The fools. Venetia shook her head as she watched the men walk around the tents and their squires polish their armor. Horses ate the grass and fires burned throughout the camps. They were making themselves right at home in the shadow of the castle. They were all hopeful fools.
Venetia truthfully did not have a plan yet, but she was trying to form one in her head. All she needed was one good plan to scare many of the men away without her father knowing. Once she gets the list of the top betted on knights, then she could make a plot for how to weed them out one by one.
Tellesa, her handmaid, cleared her throat to gain the princess’s attention. “My Lady, the king requests your audience.”
Venetia signed and threw her head to hide it in her hands. She had been avoiding her blasted father ever since they had their fight at dinner a few nights ago. She was purposely giving him a cold shoulder so she could make it clear to him how upset she was.
“Tell him I am much too busy, sick, or something,” Venetia replied with a wave of her hand.
Tellesa awkwardly shuffled her feet. “Well. His Majesty refused to take a no for an answer. He informed me it was extremely important that you attend him in his study.”
Venetia sighed. Her father will make her life worse if she ignored him. She soon found out her father wanted an audience to give her the list of challenges and how they will narrow down four hundred participants in a few weeks time.
“For the first four challenges, we will cut the participants numbers in half,” explained her father as she sat crosslegged in her chair. He pointed to a draw up of his plans that were nailed to the wall of his study. “By the fourth challenge, there will be only twenty-five participants left. From there, there will be the next challenge which will eliminate fifteen participants and ten should be left. From there, it will be one on one challenges, and once the last man is standing then he will be the declared winner.”
Veneta raised her eyebrows at her father. “How long will this take?” She asked, unamused by her father’s plan.
Her father glanced back at his plans. “There will be eight challenges total, and all eight challenges will be different. We declared Fridays for the tournament.”
That got Venetia’s attention. “Different? What are the challenges going to be?”
Her father smiled at her. “That is between me and my planners. No one will know until the challenges begin.”
Venetia bit her lip. Only him and his planners will know the challenges, huh? She will just need to gather information from them then.
“You can plan the very last one though,” her father added with a sweet smile.
Venetia clapped in excitement. “Oh, goodie. I get a saying in this whole thing after all!”
Her father frowned at her sarcasm. “I already told you there is no way around this, Vennie. I have my reasons why this is being planned. Besides, it will be fun and you will have the greatest man in all of the land as your husband. I expect no one less to marry you.”
He gave her sad eyes, but she looked the other way with a cross of her arms. If he truly cared, he would not be planning any of this. She was determined to not marry if it was the last thing she ever did.
Her overall goal was to scare away the participants until there was no one else willing to marry her. She will have to play dirty, maybe even try sabotaging their gear or their reputations. Whatever it took so she stayed happy and free of marriage. Either way though, she was going to be the winner of the tournament if it killed her.
“Now pay attention, I have a few more plans to go over with you,” he added as he turned back to the board. She sighed and leaned further into the chair.
With every plan he discussed with her, the tournament became more real. It scared her as she realized the tournament was actually happening in a few short days.
And in eight weeks time, she will have a husband. That is, if she does not scare him away first though.
A.N. Thanks for the support!
Ray Rig. All Rights Reserved.
