Artemis (previously The Lady Lockhart)

Chapter Fifteen

Hey everyone! Sorry this is late! Well, we're off the Hot List again. Doesn't matter. :) Here's an extra long chapter (3200++ words) – enjoy! x Leanne

EMMELINE HAD NOT SAID A WORD TO EMMETT SINCE SHE HAD READ HIS letter to Peter. She thought it might have been imprudent to confront him before the dinner at the palace, in case it would affect his mood drastically when he was making such a public appearance and had some negative repercussion on the good things associated with his name. She would have her word with him the day after. She dreaded speaking to him about what he had written to Peter, for despite what she hoped, she knew that it would not end prettily.

    At the gala, Emmeline found herself wedged between her father and aunt, once again in the King's dining room. She was relieved to, at least, not be seated next to her brother; but the tensions between them were sky high, although Bethany, who sat between the siblings, did not seem to sense it at all. Despite all her circumstances, Emmeline attempted to find some cheer in the food she knew would have the chance to enjoy once the meal began. From experience, she knew that King Andrew was not a stingy man when he hosted a meal.

    The table was loud with chatter. Some of the noblemen at the table had not seen one another for a long time due to issues with proximity between lands, and it was the common sentiment of all the dukes that there was much to be said. Emmeline, who had never seen her own father in such a setting before, found him speaking quite amicably with the Duke of Westchester. He seemed so bitter and isolated to her that she, in all honesty, had never expected that he would have any friends at all.

    The King himself, seated at the head of the table, was engaged in a grave conversation with the crown prince Alexander, whose defiant expression betrayed that he was as unhappy with his father as ever. Then King Andrew simply brushed him off and tapped his fork against his glass to demand attention. A hush came over the table, and satisfied, he spoke with his thunderous voice.

    "I believe you have all heard of my son's imminent marriage, and I have had many of you suggest your daughters as his future wife and as our future queen. I thank you all for your generous offers, but we can only choose one lady," he said. Emmeline tensed, praying over and over in her mind that it would not be her, that they had found a more suitable candidate. Bethany, on the other hand, shook with anticipation, praying over and over that her niece would be chosen, for she knew that there was not a single more suitable candidate.

    "Sarah and I have come to a decision, and we have chosen to announce it tonight," he declared. A light anticipatory buzz filled the room. "My wife will do the honours."

    "My lords and my ladies, I am so happy to share with you today that we have selected Emmeline Lockhart of Portsmouth." The queen beamed at the young woman as her life crumbled before her eyes, the grand institution of dignity and freedom she had built over twenty-three years falling away from her reality like rain in a thunderstorm. "This is a joint decision by my husband, my son—"

    There was a loud bang. Alexander had chosen this moment to slam his hand against the table and rise from his seat, his hands trembling with indignation and rage. "This was by no means a joint decision!"

    "Alexander, what exactly do you think you are doing?" King Andrew hissed, his voice low and threatening. "Be seated right this instant!"

    "No!" Alexander shouted, the single word echoing in the high ceiling of the dining hall. "Mother, you may announce all you like that you want that shameless, pretentious woman to marry me, but you will never be able to force me to take her as my wife! I hate her, and I hate you!"

    With that, he bowed in the most demeaning way Emmeline had ever seen anyone bow, and stormed out of the room, leaving the thunders of his irate footsteps ricocheting in his wake.