Ceremony. It was all worthless ceremony, just for show. He was just a presentation.
His second day in Aedryn opened with his formal introduction at court, and all the horrific customs that came with it. Despite his long journey, the weariness of his limbs, his sleep was shallow and he felt in a gloomy mood.
Alezander just desired to return home. He really did not wish to be here at all. The Princess at his side, as impressive as she was in her particual fashion, failed to capture him as he lingered in a melancholy world of his own. Her elegance was supreme, yet there was an underlying jittery, childish bashfulness about her. It was youth; it was not knowing. She was a pretty little innocent girl, artful in her own style, though still....
He gazed to her, and when she curiously met his eye to return the glance, she glowed a pale shade of pink dawn and shyly turned away, as if gracefully pretending to find interest in something else.
Why would he want to go home? He was free from his main duties, released from the imposing glare of his father and the maternal, ever-watching eyes of his sister, with the tongue that came to match. He sat in the seat beside a delicate flower of a Princess prepared to please, himself at the liberty to almost do anything he wished. Perhaps he could enjoy himself this trip.
Perhaps...it would assist him to see more clearly the reality that was soon to be his. Despite the grave, serious duty that lay before him as King of his land, he had to admit that he was fortunate that his betrothed was so sweet and willing. Perhaps it would help him to accept what was his and...forget what couldn't be.