He pressed a hand to the glass. *A political marriage.* A stranger he was supposed to vow himself to. A life chosen for him.
"Rough morning?" Henry asked softly.
" week"he said.
Henry leaned against the window beside him. "Yeah. I could feel the tension from the hallway. Your mom's in full 'royal command mode,' huh?"
Adrien huffed. "They talk like my feelings are an inconvenience. Like—if I fall in love later, I can just file some papers and undo everything."
His one hand buried in his hair, the other clenched tightly around a half-empty glass.
"Ah, Henry, what am I going to do?" he groaned, stopping before the window.
Lord Henry Asterleigh, lounging comfortably in an armchair, arched a brow. "Well, it's a bit late for regrets, my friend. The gossip has already reached half the city."
Adrian turned sharply, his voice rising. "You don't understand. This entire thing feels like a joke — a cruel one at that. Look at her, Henry! I still can't believe it. Do you even know her family refuses to hold a proper wedding?"
Henry blinked. "What do you mean, no wedding? A noble family refusing ceremony? That's unheard of."
"That's exactly what I said!" Adrian exclaimed, beginning to pace again. "Her mother told me — to my face — that they 'won't parade their daughter like livestock before strangers.' Her words, not mine." He stopped and threw his arms up. "They want the ceremony in the *castle's private temple*, with only a handful of witnesses, before the statue of Saint Rehes!"
Henry frowned. "That's... unusual, but hardly disastrous."
"Unusual?" Adrian snapped. "It's humiliating! My family name will be the subject of gossip for months. Everyone will think they forced this alliance in secret because of some scandal. And the worst part is, they seem perfectly content with that!"
Henry let out a quiet sigh and rose, walking to stand beside him. "They're protective, that's all. You said the mother keeps the girl locked away — maybe she's simply afraid of the public eye."
Adrian stared out the window, jaw tight. "Protective or not, this secrecy makes me look like a fool. Every man in court will think I married some fragile recluse too timid to stand in the light."
Henry studied his friend for a long moment. "You speak as if this marriage is already your ruin. Perhaps it won't be."
Adrian gave a dry laugh. "You didn't see her expression, Henry. She looked at me like she'd been waiting her entire life to meet someone — and I can't even stand the thought of being near her. Tell me, how am I supposed to live with that?"
Henry didn't answer.
He turned away from the window. "They're all mad," he muttered. "Every last one of them."
Adrian adjusted the cuffs of his coat for what felt like the tenth time, irritation simmering beneath his calm exterior.
"I should meet her today aghh. ," he muttered under his breath, tugging at his gloves. " Ah, troublesome…"
Henry, seated casually on the edge of a nearby table, smirked. "You make it sound like you're going to battle instead of to meet your bride."
Adrian shot him a dark look. "In some ways, I'd prefer the battlefield. At least there, one knows what to expect."
"Still," Henry said, standing and straightening his own cravat, "you might try not to look as though you're attending your own funeral. The Blackwell may be old-fashioned, but they're not blind."
Adrian exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair. "Old-fashioned is too kind. The mother barely acknowledges me, and the girl—" He stopped, remembering Evelyn's shy smile, the way her words tumbled out nervously as if she were afraid of silence. "She's… polite," he said finally. "Too polite. And painfully earnest."
"Earnestness isn't a crime," Henry said lightly.
"It is when it borders on ignorance," Adrian snapped, then caught himself and sighed. "I simply don't understand why fate insists on pairing me with someone so…" he searched for the word, "unsuited."
Henry only chuckled. "Perhaps you should consider that your opinions of 'suitability' are half the reason the crown had to intervene."
Adrian turned toward the mirror, inspecting his reflection . "its like a terrible joke"
A quiet knock at the door interrupted them. "My lord," said his attendant, bowing slightly. "The Blackwell have arrived. "
Adrian glanced at Henry, his jaw tightening. "Wonderful....."
Henry grinned. "Try not to scare her this time."
He straightened his shoulders, masking irritation with practiced grace, and strode toward the door.
"Troublesome."
And he pushed the door open.