Not For Love Nor Power

Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

She hadn’t meant for the king to fall in love with her. No matter what the sneering court claimed. All she’d wanted was a wonderful night.

There had been no pretences woven for her inclusion in the ball. Lady Jasmine’s invitation, like all others, carried an unspoken “plus entourage”. As the young lady’s chief maid of course Grace would be present. And the moment dear Jaz heard how her lifelong servant and friend longed to have a fairytale night, she’d graciously thrown open her wardrobe.

“Nobody will ask questions - they’ll assume you’re a distant cousin or such. Just promise you won’t be too busy dancing to help if my hair falls down!”

Said with a laugh, knowing that Grace would wade through floodwaters to fix her friend’s hair, especially at an event like this one. She’d promised anyway, around the crushing tearful hug which could only communicate a fraction of her joy and gratitude.

So the five of them - her, Jaz, Jaz’s parents, and their attendants - had stepped out of the coach that night and she’d swept up to the front door with the family. Heart thudding against her bodice and her wavering breath making her feathered mask flutter.

And the doorman had simply checked the invitations, cast a disinterested glance at her, and waved the group into a dream come true.

Into a candied realm where lack of education didn’t matter, and borrowed finery was indistinguishable from the real thing, and she could dance and laugh and yes tease and flirt just a little. It was all in good fun. Revelling in the fact that tomorrow she’d be a drab little sparrow again and none of them would think to look at her, much less recognise her for the mysterious girl who’d stolen a sly kiss before whirling away.

But just as they didn’t know her, she didn’t know them. Not even enough to recognise the young king. In her ignorance she’d treated him like all the others.

He liked it. He wanted more. Especially after she laughingly turned him down and gave him the slip with servant’s ease.

The very next day she learned how feeble a protection her anonymity was against his reach. A footman was knocking on the family’s door before dinner. She’d been found out. When she was summoned into the sitting room where the king waited she was faint with terror, certain she was in disgrace and possibly danger.

He proposed.

Their courtship had been long and winding, starting from his patient assurances that he wasn’t joking and ending with long talks late at night.

His court fumed and scoffed and sneered of course. Whispered of foul magic and trickery. She almost turned him down to avoid dealing with that viper’s nest for the rest of her life.

Ultimately, however, she decided to marry the king. Not for power or riches or love, but pity. Pity for the lonely man so desperate for honest connection that he’d chase a strange sparrow across town.

Prompt was “Ultimately, she decided to marry the king, but not for power or riches…”