Like Much In (My) Life Ch. 05-06

There was a terrible pause, a cold silent moment and I could feel the dread of the Cesar and Janus as they silently watched both Ray and I.

"Why not?" This time Ray's voice was cold and harsh as he bit off his question abruptly, his arms now steely bands of hard resolve, imprisoning me in his embrace. I felt fear pound through my blood stream, I wasn't afraid of Ray, but I was afraid of him being able to talk me into it. I didn't think I could handle a Ray asking for reasons and wanting to talk it through.

"Because," I stated firmly, refusing to let either my tears or my doubts affect the steely resolve of my tone, "I just do not want to marry you."

"We are bonded, by the law of my kind, we are already married. The marriage ceremony is merely for my nation to rejoice with us. I told you before and I tell you now, we are matted, and I cannot undo what has been done. You are mine, I am yours, we belong to each other."

I felt my heart squeeze in my chest, rejoicing at the possessiveness of his tone, the pride with which he claimed me as his mate, hoping against hope that there was some chance for me to win his heart. And then reality came crashing down once more. How could fate be so cruel? All I wanted was Ray, for him to be mine, all hunky and big and gorgeous in my bed for all time, why did I have to pay such an atrocious price to get him there?

"I know I belong to you Ray, that," I sniffed once more, trying to look hard and determined and dignified, with my nose dripping, my eyes red and my face tear encrusted. "is not an issue, the issue here," I took a deep breath, pausing for the drama and momentum "is that you are a fully fledged, sodding, bloody, PRINCE!" the last bit sort of came out like a strangled screech, making me sound like a harpy with some serious mental issues.

I raised my eyes bravely to his, squaring my shoulders, ready to face him face on and do battle for my rights to not marry him. I was a warrior, a radical liberal, a girl determined to fight for what she believed in, her own personal right to not marry Prince Charming. Who did they think I was anyway? I wasn't going to stand meekly by and let them hand me a happily ever after.

The minute my eyes met his molten orbs, the absurdity of my position punched its way through my gut. He looked completely incredulous, in fact his whole face was contorted into a mask of puzzled doubt, he didn't even look angry. He placed his hands gently on my shoulders, as he stared at me in earnest confusion.

"Little cat, I know how hard it is to understand the change in your circumstances, a new world, a new life, a new way of life. I understand that everything has changed for you, and that you have been somewhat pushed into things, but please try and understand what is going on. I'm sorry to rush things, but tradition calls for the wedding to follow swiftly after the mating, and I would very much like to claim you officially as soon as possible." He looked at me in earnest entreaty. "You still haven't met with the council, and you being my wife will change things rather drastically. I'm afraid that you cannot go back to your old life, and your position here, well your status will be affected by mine and..."

At this point I cut him off by bursting into tears, yet again. He was being so sweet and considerate and and... yet... he still kept saying the wrong thing! Marriage, circumstances, what was expected, my status... Uhhhh! I didn't want to be a princess, I had had enough of that last time! All the dresses and the rules and the expectations and the balls and people always looking and staring and staring and looking and not being allowed to eat chocolate or do anything even mildly risky and just UHHHHHH!

"I'm not princess material and I don't want to marry a prince," I bawled "if I wanted a prince I would have kissed a frog! Or bought a pea! Or dancing shoes or something! I don't want to go to any horrid ball, I don't want to wear stupid dresses and shoes that pinch my toes and most of all I do not want to marry any silly Prince!"

I don't know what I expected my three companions to do. I don't know what they had expected me to do, what I did, to put it mildly... had been unexpected. They had not anticipated any objections on my part, let alone on the grounds I was presenting and they had not expected me to disintegrate into a little hysterical puddle at the mention of marriage. After all most women plan their white horror shows from an early age. Right? Well, maybe, maybe not, but the point was all three of them were at a total loss; so we sat there with me slowly running out of tears, in a stony silence that would have made any gargoyle fidget.

3

Like many instances in life, especially those conducted in cold official looking rooms in such horrifying institutions as schools, dental clinics, the bicycle shed, your mother's living room, ect., the reaction to my convictions was a rather frenzied and athletic attempt to change my mind. It seems that there is nothing so red-flagish for the big frenzied bull of society, than an opinion, especially a strong one. It seems, especially during puberty, that the majority of one's acquaintance spends way too much time trying to make you do things you don't want to do, say things you don't want to say, and in other words cow down and bow to their superior ideas and convictions. It doesn't seem to matter who your talking too, they all take equal offence at a negative opinion, whether or not it's your thirteen year old school fellow who stares in horror as you laugh at the idea of a pink dress with bows, or her mother, who gags at the concept of a girl not wanting to get married, or her husband, who gets hives at the idea of a girl wanting to do martial arts and doesn't give a fig about gossip.

They all react as if you have a psychic derangement that might be contagious, so together with the obligatory horrified expression, they tend to back away slowly and then excuse themselves in a hurry. Usually they then come back with backup, other fellow members of society, who will explain to you in monosyllables why your ideas are wacko. If all else fails, and like me, you refuse to give up your weird and inconsiderate ideas, they will exclaim in condescending tones and evil smirks "Oh, you'll change your mind!" Well, one might, or one might not. That is, after all, the whole point about ideas, you have every right (as if they were a returnable item or a magazine prescription) to jack them in the moment you don't agree with them. However, this does not mean that you need them (like an opinionated mother who tells you that your new and expensive shoes are ghastly and you should take them back immediately) to tell you that your opinion doesn't count because it's your opinion now, and that obviously it won't be your opinion latter. What kind of logic is that?

So, as my eyes crossed and I sat in bamboozled silence upon the stone cold knees of a silently fuming Ray, I listened to the myriad reasons why I didn't know my own mind. I was mildly disappointed at the lack of imagination that both Cesar and the good doctor where displaying. Sure, my reactions were, shall we say, a bit unique. However, I had expected a little sympathy from people who lived in what could be termed, unique circumstances. After all, Angel's Peak was hardly normal, back home. But, as they detailed how wonderful being a princess is, and how marvelous being mated is, and how I would like marriage and princess-hood and balls and gowns and crowns and things, it was obvious that I would probably never be able to explain my point of view.

In the end, I took the only logical tactical option that I had.

"So, Cesar, you are convinced that being a princess is a breeze?"

"But of course, Lady Alice, I think you will find that you will fit in to royal life perfectly. You are such a lovely lady, sophisticated, poised, I doubt there will be any problem."

"Ah, so you think I will fit in. I see. But, Cesar, I don't want to fit in. So unless you can tell me that I don't have to go to balls, that I don't have to wear tiaras, that I don't have to have tea parties with other important and genteel ladies, that I don't have to wear uncomfortable gem encrusted shoes, meet important people, sign documents and have a social secretary, you'll forgive me for disagreeing with you."

"But my dear, just think, the glamour, the music, the romance, how stunning you will look at the ball tonight, how elegant..." I watched as Janus's eyes misted over with visions of parties and glittering jewels and fine wine and even finer ladies. It seemed he was a man of effete tastes and I almost wished he was the one being asked to marry a prince, I had a feeling he would like it better than I ever would. I felt myself warming to him, the misty look in his eyes was so endearing, and the longing on his face for such delicate things was charming. I couldn't be angry or scared, not with charming and considerate Cesar and sweet little Janus in the room. I relaxed slightly, on the hardened ledge that passed for Ray's knee, and felt the tension seep out of me. Things weren't so bad, all I had to do was put my foot down; and then in a few years, they would all resign themselves to the fact that I wasn't going to budge on this, and we would all settle down. I could marry Ray, tie him to me in every possible way, spin a spider's web around him so he could never escape me; but still remain independent of the entrapment of his title and standing. How hard could it be?

"Janus, it is of no use. My lady," the tone was ice encrusted, with jagged icy peaks in a desolate frozen landscape, it was alien and truly, utterly, cold. "will not be persuaded. It is evident that she does not wish to be tied down or limited in any way."

Ray stood up abruptly, tossing me onto the floor in a shocked mass of silently collapsing limbs and hardening dread. His hands idly straitened his coat and he brushed himself off, his face congealed into an impenetrable mask.

"Lady Alice," he did not look at me. "I offer my sincere apologies for being so presumptuous as to wish for our union. Be assured that you shall be bothered by me, no longer, good day. Gentlemen."

And with that, horrid, stuffy speech, he left.

As the three of us stared in shocked horror at the door which had just slammed shut, there was only one thing I could think of to say.

"Oh, fuck."