"I didn't do it intentionally! If I had known what she was planning, I wouldn't have allowed her to be there." Freddy grabbed the sides of his head, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep, slow breath.
This isn't her fault. Alfred is making the decision; she's simply the messenger. Getting upset at her will do nothing to solve the problem.
He dropped his arms heavily to his sides and opened his eyes. "I'm sorry that things didn't go as planned. What can I do?"
Her eyes were cold, her voice as unaffected as if they were discussing a change in the weather. "There's nothing to do, Frederick. We're leaving in the morning."
"You already came all this way. Why go back now just to return later? It doesn't make sense."
"It's not my decision."
"But it is your wedding. Surely, if you asked—"
"I don't want to ask."
Lizzie's words hit him like a knife in the gut, and Freddy worked his jaw back and forth for a moment as he tried to banish the lump in the back of his throat. His eyes burned with unshed tears.
"What happened, Lizzie?" he whispered. "We used to be best friends." He searched her face, desperately looking for a hint of some kind—any kind—of emotion. "What did I do?"
She shrugged. "People change."
"Not like this. Not so completely. You left ten years ago, and when you came back, it was like the Lizzie I knew was gone. You were so warm and full of life, and now you're just…cold."
She blinked, slow and unaffected. "I fail to see, then, why you would be so upset that there is no wedding. Why push for the union in the first place?"
"We have an agreement in place between our countries. Our fathers signed a contract."
Her hand waved his words away. "A technicality that can be overcome with good diplomacy."
"I don't want good diplomacy. I want you." Freddy reached for her hand, desperate to feel some kind of connection to the woman who had held his heart since youth.
"Why?" Lizzie tilted her head. "You said yourself that I was cold. Why would you want to tie yourself to that?"
"Because I love you. I thought I had made that perfectly clear."
"No." She pulled her hand away. "You love the girl that I used to be."
He shook his head earnestly. "No, that's not—"
"Which is just as well, because it means that you'll be able to recover quickly." She reached for the door handle.
"I don't want to recover quickly." Freddy could feel the desperation rising, clawing at his chest. "Lizzie—"
"My name is Eliza." Her face had shifted, turning hard and cold like granite. "And I'm afraid you don't have a choice. Goodbye, Frederick."
With that, she closed the door in his face. He heard the lock falling into place as he reeled, stumbling backwards until he hit the opposite wall. He sank slowly to the floor, cradling his head in his hands and resting his forehead on his knees.
I'm definitely not getting married today.
Chapter Three
Lizzie
The night before...
"His Majesty has requested your presence in the ballroom."
Lizzie looked up from the book that had been open to the same page for the last fifteen minutes and noted the familiar, brown hair and round, matronly face of the speaker. "For what purpose?"
