After standing in waiting silence for a moment, a figure turned the corner and entered, her gaze directly coming upon him. She was the face of the portrait come to life, with sweet, whimsical lips, a graceful neck, and warm, bashfully inquisitive eyes. She seemed to shrink as his eyes met her own; as rapidly as they had come upon him they were cast to the ground. It was not long before she could not help returning her eyes to observe him once more, stepping closer and closer to him as she glided across the floor in his direction.
He looked over her for the first, instinctive moment entranced, captured by her lovely form and youthful, untarnished expression. But as she neared, and a thought overwhelmed him, he could only see the beauty of his heart's love at her side, only comparing her to the supreme elegance, the dark, shimmering hair, the solemn, moist eyes of Lady Raena. He could only taste the sour on his tongue, see the injustice in this situation, and feel disheartened, as if by seeing the form of his betrothed, that it was all truth, that it was near in his future.
Yet he had to see the sensibilty and necessity in it all--it was to be, and if it was to be this, then he must feel partways content with the first impression of his bride-to-be. Princess Cassandra was an uncommon beauty of sorts--she was neither the dark beauty of Raena that Alezander had so fallen in love with, or the famed brilliant, beaming gold picture of perfection that Cassandra's elder sibling, the Princess Marie Diana, was. She was perfection in her own way, handsome in her own style.
"Princess Cassandra," he finally moved forward, bowing as was custom, like some heroic cavalier.
"Prince Alezander," she curtsied in return, her eyes fluttering over him to take in every aspect of him in an attempt to gather all she could of her to-be-groom in their first meeting. She allowed him to take her hand and lightly kiss her knuckle, making her blush the softest hue of rose. The Princess continued with what confidence she could muster in a moment she was trying to absorb and contemplate so many things, "I am sorry you had to travel in such weather. I hope you are well after such a voyage."
Alezander straightened, gazing into her eyes, "Thank you, I am well. I am grateful for your concern and understanding. I apologize for such a late and unseasonable arrival."
"I understand, Your Majesty," replied Cassandra courteously. In this silver world of mystic that they had gowned the Hall in, Alezander thought she appeared a pretty Fae Princess blossoming into a Queen. Her manner was natural yet filled with the loveliness of natural grace, she acted as one of refined Royalty with airs of innocent, easy sweetness.
Still, despite all this, he felt a heaviness deep inside him. Indeed, it was better then he had anticipated, but it did nothing to pacify his longing for a different situation, his longing for Raena and the guilt of what he had made of their relationship, in what it would do to Raena.