Freddy gave the tiniest shake of his head.
"But, Your Majesty, the ceremony—"
"Is a formality, not a legality. Do you have the necessary papers?"
The priest fumbled with his book, pulling out a pile of folded papers from the back. "Your Majesty, I must protest. The Almighty never intended—"
"For daughters to so blatantly disrespect their fathers," Alfred seethed, snatching the papers out of the priest's hand. "Eliza has disobeyed and embarrassed me for the last time. She’s finally going to get a taste of reality—and it won’t be pleasant."
Alfred pulled a gold-plated pen from his breast pocket and stepped around the priest, smoothing the papers out on the altar and signing his name on the bottom of each with a flourish.
"You, minstrel," he snapped his fingers at Freddy, gesturing him over. "What was your name again?"
"Malakai Fidelis." The practiced name rolled easily off his tongue, and Freddy wondered for a moment if he should be concerned at his distinct lack of remorse for lying to a monarch.
But then again, he’s the one acting in breach of a previous agreement. Technically, by doing this, I’m saving Nedra from a whole slew of political and economic ramifications.
"Whatever. Sign here." Alfred pointed to the space at the bottom of the marriage contract near his own flourishing scrawl.
"Yes, Your Majesty." Freddy took the pen and suddenly stilled.
I didn't think about this part. If I sign a false name, the marriage contract will be void, and all of this will be for nothing. Would that be better for Lizzie? After all, she would be free to make her own choice. Or would she? It's more likely that Alfred will just put her into this situation again, but with a man far less concerned aboutherand more worried about becoming a king's son-in-law.
"Do you even know how to write your own name?" Alfred's patronizing sneer interrupted his moral quandary, making up his mind for him.
I'll just have to pray that he doesn't look closely at the signatures. Knowing him, he'll probably wash his hands of it and forget the whole matter once it's over.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty. Just a case of wedding day jitters. It's not every day that a man marries a princess."
Alfred snorted. "If you can find her, she’s all yours." He turned his back dismissively to speak to Shea, giving Freddy the opportunity to sign his full name at the bottom of both copies.
Frederick Ensford Hill
"And you, Cabriole?" Alfred was saying. "You stand witness to the union?"
"I'll witness it, though I can't say that I approve of your measures."
"I want your signature, not your judgment. Remember who supported your father when your little kingdom was under attack."
"And for the sake of our allies, I will sign," Shea answered, his one good eye flicking briefly to Freddy, his meaning clear:
He was going along with the scheme solely for Freddy's sake.
He took the pen from Freddy and signed his name, his letters as neat and even as the lines of his uniform were pressed. Once finished, Alfred shoved one of the contracts at Freddy's chest and handed the other to the priest without so much as a second glance. Freddy released a quiet sigh of relief.
"See to it that this gets filed in the proper place," Alfred barked at the priest before turning back to Freddy, his lips curling in distaste. "Well, minstrel, it seems you've gotten yourself a princess. But just so we're clear." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to an icy temperature. "She might have been born a princess, but that does not make you a prince. There will be no extraneous benefits given to you because of the marriage—that’s all in the contract that you just signed."
"Understood, Your Majesty," Freddy answered, bowing low at the waist. "It is enough that I can call her my wife."
"Hah! You'll have to find her first. And there will be no resources of mine wasted there, either. As far as I'm concerned, she's your wife, which means it's your problem."
And this attitude is precisely why I signed my name.
Freddy hid the grim thought behind a shallow smile. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Alfred consulted the watch in his pocket. "Right. Well, now that this business is all taken care of, I must be off. That wretched child has made me late to breakfast. Cabriole, are you coming?"
Shea shook his head. "I have some other tasks to see to this morning."
