Thread: Distrust & Intentions || Prodi & Mach

Maximilian tried to sleep early, to avoid the thoughts that wandered through his head, but the same ones just repeated as he lay there. How would this turn out? What would the next day bring? He lay there in an unfamiliar bed staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, disturbed only by a soft knock at his door. Rolling out of the bed and pulling on a tunic, he crossed the room, opening that door to find his mother on the other side. May I come in? she asked, giving him that small, understanding smile, the smile of a woman who can see and understand far more that she would ever say. That had always been her gift, her ability to aware of the world around her, more so than others. Of course. He said simply, opening the door, and his mother swept past him, sitting down into the chair at the desk. Maximilian moved to sit across from her on the end of the bed. I know these last weeks have been hard on you. And I know that your father's decline is rough on you - you've never been close, and now he's making massive choices for you, all in the name of the Kingdom. So I wanted to come see you before tomorrow, just the two of us. She said, looking over the small space between them. I know what you're like, my Maximilian. I know you don't think that you're ready for marriage, for all the pressure and commitment that requires. But you're a kind man, deep down. Yes, we both know you like your fun, your freedom, and pleasures of all kinds, but I think you'll be surprised by how pleasing a marriage can be. Give Charlotte a chance. Give the marriage a chance. I wouldn't have picked this situation either, but I think she'll be good for you. Max could only nod, acknowledging her words and her advice, but she knew he'd heard her. Then she stood, cracking a smile. Besides, I always thought the two of you looked cute together. That comment drew a laugh from Max as he stood up as well, embracing his mother. Thank you. I love you. The next morning, Nicholas dressed. He'd already refused to wear most of the clothing that he owned for formal occasions, which contained only the family colors - black and silver, mostly black. He wouldn't go into this wedding looking like it was his funeral. Talk about wrong impressions. And so instead he'd acquired a long light grey coat which he wore over a tight-fitting white shirt. A silver scarf adorned his throat, and the white leggings he wore fit his legs well, ending in the black boots. On his head, he placed the crown of the kingdom , the only difference between his and his father's being the lack of gemstones in his. He was escorted down to the wedding by his personal guard, a number of whom were close friends. He'd asked that they be kept unaware of the truth of the situation, however, and so the conversation was kept light and joking, playing at him finally being tied down to one woman. At least she was stunning, one commented. Another laughed, saying that Max would never get himself caught up with a woman who wasn't. They were right, of course, but that had never been the only reason he'd been attracted to her. They'd marched down the aisle, black coats contrasting with his light grey, until he stood at the altar, them splitting off to stand to the side. And then they waited, the organ beginning to play as all eyes turned to await his bride's arrival.