The Prince's Bride (Part 1) - J.J. McAvoy Page 0,1
who I could always trust to help me drive our parents mad. “Eliza, did you hear that? He’s going to banish me. Whatever am I going to do?”
She pulled out one earbud and looked back to me in all seriousness. “There is only one thing you can do, and that’s to sell your body.”
I gasped, dramatically crossing my arms over my chest. “The horror.”
She snorted, and I broke out into laughter.
“I have had it! You ungrateful little man-child,” he called out to me. “I cannot reason with him!” he snapped at my mother, already marching to the door. “You two talk some sense into the fool. I fear I might kill him.”
“Love you, too, Father!”
Slam.
Persephone whimpered at the sound.
I looked back at Eliza’s wide eyes. “Was it something I said?”
“Must you always be difficult, Gale? Do you think we would ask this of you if it were not important? Do you think we enjoy being in this current state of affairs?” my mother tried to yell, but whenever she was upset, her voice quivered more and boomed less. “You are nearly twenty-seven years old. At what point to do you plan to become an upstanding, supportive member of this family?”
I opened my mouth to speak, but she held up her hand, stopping me. “No! No more of your unamusing commentary. You’ve said enough for one morning. And you!” Her sharp eyes whipped to Eliza, who was her carbon copy in almost every way—from their long, red hair to their blue eyes and large feet. “Since you want to help your brother so much, why don’t we find someone for you instead?”
“Mother!”
“That is a much better idea. Why don’t you all try that first and get back to me later.”
“Shut up, Gale!” Eliza yelled, throwing one of the divan pillows at my head. “What kind of older brother are you?”
“The disowned and banished type?” I replied, catching the pillow.
“I see we have spoiled you all too much. Why is it so hard for you to be serious? Of all the things you could joke about, you chose this.” My mother sighed, shaking her head before walking toward the doors.
“Wait, Mother. Were you serious about me?” Eliza shot up, but our dear, sweet mother just gave her a calm look and then promptly left the room. Eliza’s head spun back to me, her red hair whipping over her shoulder. “What was that look? Why did I get a look? I thought we were sacrificing you!”
“Oh, so it is okay when it is me, but not you?”
“Exactly!” She huffed, rising from her chair, looking to our brother, who was pretending to sleep. “Arty, do something!”
“Why would I do that? With you both about to be disowned, I can finally enjoy the peace and quiet I’ve always wanted.”
I snickered. “Will you redecorate when we are gone?”
“I actually like the décor—”
“You both are the worst brothers!” Eliza snapped at us.
“That is a bit harsh, is it not, Arty?” I asked him.
He nodded. “And factually inaccurate. Emperor Commodus sent one hundred men to execute his sister, Lucilla. Compared to that, we are angels.”
“Now that you mention it, I do see a halo above your head, brother.”
“Ugh! Whatever! I’m leaving.” She stomped her foot and marched out the door.
“If you need help with wedding invites—”
Slam.
Once again, Persephone grumbled in protest as she dashed to Arty’s feet like a tiny child, and of course, he picked her up. “Do not mind the silly humans, Persephone. They are all grumpy today.”
“Should we be leaping for joy at what just happened?” I asked, and though I did not want to even seriously entertain any of this, I still needed to ask. “Are they truly serious with this, Arty? An arranged marriage in this day and age?”
He sighed, setting the dog on her feet. “Are you forgetting I also had an arranged marriage?”
“That does not count! You’ve been in love with Sophia since you were, like, twelve.” Though everyone knew Sophia could not stand him when we were kids. He was shy, quiet, lanky, and possessed a severe case of foot-in-mouth syndrome whenever it came to socializing with those of the opposite sex. It was so severe that I still cringed when I thought about how he used to be.
“It counts because God knows I wouldn’t have been able to ask her out.” He smirked, walking up toward the windows to stare out at the moon.
There were a dozen jokes I could have made to tease him about those days. However,