The Cursed Prince's Strange Bride

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As Harold lay on his side of the bed, he wondered why she did not put a pillow between them to demarcate their sides of the bed like she had done the previous night.

Did she even realize just how much she was beginning to let down her guard around him with each passing day? He mused.

Not that he didn't want her to. He was actually glad that she was gradually getting accustomed to being with him, whether or not she knew it.

He wondered what she was thinking about and why she was so unusually quiet. Was she still feeling guilty over what she had done? Should he reassure her that he was not angry?

He decided against it as soon as it crossed his mind. Telling her that what she did was okay and he was not angry would encourage her to even do worse things. So he stayed quiet and just listened to the even sound of her breath. He was just about to drift off to sleep when she whispered his name softly.

"Harold?" She called his name as she turned to face him. But he had his back to her.

"Hm?"

"What exactly is this banquet all about?" She asked curiously.

"Why are you asking?" He asked without turning to look at her.

"I don't know... I just feel it's a really big occasion."

"It is," He said quietly. "You are also going to be introduced to the entire aristocratic family during the banquet to see if they accept you or not."

That made her heart skip. She was his wife already. What did it matter if they accepted her or not? "What if they do not accept me?" For some weird reason, she wanted them to like her. She was doing this for Amber, she reasoned. She wanted Amber to be happy.

Harold didn't answer that question because everything was in her hands. There was a fifty-fifty chance that she would either make them love her, or she would make them despise her. It depended on the aspect of her they met. And he also knew that the Queen and Ivan were likely going to try to goad her into doing things to annoy the aristocrats so that they wouldn't like his wife.

"Harold?"

"Hm?"

"You haven't my question. What if they don't like me?"

"Why is it important to you that people like you?" Harold asked instead.

"You are the one who said the aristocrats are going to have to decide if they accept me or not. If they don't accept me, what will they do?" She asked.

"That shouldn't be your concern. Focus on being on your best behavior," Harold advised. There was no need to tell her that no one would want him to be king if the aristocrats did not accept his wife. But then again, he didn't want to be king either, so that wasn't really his business.

All he wanted was for her not to cause any more trouble than was necessary. It was easier for her to get away with stuff when it involved just the royal family and the king. But even the king would be forced to make a decision against her if the aristocrats all pushed for it.

"I already promised you I won't cause any more trouble. You shouldn't go fighting with Prince Ivan either. I don't want anything to happen to you," she said, but Harold said nothing.

"Harold?" She called again after some time.

"Hm?" Harold asked patiently. He couldn't complain since he had asked his talkative wife to share his chamber with him. He would have to endure all of this until the seven days were over. After all, this was still better than having to transform into his wolf form and move around aimlessly every night.

"What was your dream?" She asked.

"What dream?" He asked in confusion, wondering when he ever told her he had a dream.

"When you were younger, what did you wish to become when you grew older?"

"Why do I have to dream about becoming anything else when I am born a Prince?" He asked her quietly.

Although that made sense somehow, that wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"Uh.... let's say... like becoming something or someone well known? Like the head of the police... I mean the head of warriors or even maybe... a king?" She asked tentatively.

He didn't answer immediately, but after a while, he turned and faced her. Now, they were both lying on their sides facing each other.

"You are trying to find out if I am interested in inheriting the throne," He pointed out, seeing through her immediately. He guessed this had to do with her conversation with the King.

"Kind of..." she replied, sounding slightly guilty to have been caught.

"I am not interested in the throne. It is not mine," Harold said, even though he knew he should be interested. He shouldn't be interested in sitting on it, but he should worry about who sits on it. Ivan would be the wrongest person to sit on the throne.

"But... what about..."

"The rumors?" He interrupted.

"Yes. The rumors."

"That didn't happen because I wanted the throne," He said, referring to the death of the older prince.

"If I did, Ivan wouldn't be alive until now."

"Then it was a mistake?" She asked hopefully.

"Why do you assume so?"

"Because... I don't think you are the type to just kill a person without thinking," She said reasonably, even though that wasn't entirely the truth.

The truth was, she just desperately wanted it to be a mistake. She didn't want to think of him as the sort of person who would intentionally kill his brother for no reason.

Harold could not help but laugh in amusement at her response, "Do not get it wrong, princess. Not all rumors are lies," He said matter of factly and waited for that to sink in before he continued, "I am that type."

Alicia frowned. "But... you didn't do it on purpose, did you?" She still kept that hopeful tone when she asked him.

He just stared at her for a moment before he finally shook his head, "I didn't."

She smiled and sighed in relief, "Thank God. I knew that was not possible," She said, beaming.

He watched her smile and almost smiled. He propped up his head with his hand and elbow resting on the bed and asked, "You seem to believe whatever you are told. How old are you?"

Alicia followed suit as she answered, "That's not correct. I only believe whatever you tell me. And I am twenty-five."

He frowned slightly in confusion. "Twenty-five what?"

"Twenty-five years old, duh!"

"Duh?"

"Nevermind. I'm twenty-five years old," Alicia said with a sigh.

"You are old!" He exclaimed, causing her to be flustered.

"I beg your pardon," She glared harshly at him.

"No wonder you act like a nosy grandmother."

Alicia gasped at the insults. "How dare you!" She exclaimed. "Firstly, twenty-five is not old, and I do not act like a nosy grandmother!"

"How come you were not married?" He asked curiously, thinking that no one might have wanted to marry her because of her troublesome character.

"People are not forced to get married as early as people do here. People could stay until their thirties or forties, and nothing is wrong with that. There are even people who don't want to get married at all."

He could understand men not wanting to get married at all since he hadn't wanted a wife until he had been forced to marry this talkative.

"Thirties? Why get married so late? Their own children should be getting ready to get married by then," He said, sounding confused.

His confusion made her laugh, "It's not so where I come from. People only get married when it's their choice or when it involves those arranged marriages and stuff. But where I come from, people do date from a young age."

"Date?"

"Like court each other. Boyfriends and girlfriends, but it doesn't mean they would get married. They can always break up."

"A lady can be dated several times then?" He asked in displeasure.

"Yeah." She nodded.

"What do people do when they date?"

"Go out on dates to places, be kind of intimate with each other. You know... hugging and kissing and stuff..." she winked at him and began to giggle to herself, ignoring the look of disgust on Harold's face.

"Have you been dated before?" He asked while looking at her suspiciously.

"I am 25. What do you expect? Of course!"

"You have been courted by a man before?" He asked in surprise. For some reason, he had expected her to say no.

"By four men, actually." She said with a grin, startling Harold.

"Four men?" Harold asked in disbelief.

Alicia giggled, "Yes, four men."

"How could you have been with four men?" He asked, glaring at her.

"Because it is what I wanted," she said with a dismissive shrug, amused by his reaction. It seemed like he was upset at the thought of her having been with other men. Very funny.

"Did they all touch you?" Harold asked with a slight frown even though he knew he shouldn't ask because he might not like the answer.

"Of course. And I touched all of them too," Alicia said with a grin, which immediately left her face when she saw the murderous glint in his eyes.

Harold couldn't explain precisely how he was feeling, but one thing he knew for sure was that he wanted to kill someone. He wanted to find those four men she had been with and beat the life out of them for touching his wife.

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