“Genevieve, darling, are you prepared for your dancing?” Her mother questions.

“Yes, Mother,” Vi answers, poised and ready.

“As you know, there will be important people here, so it is imperative to present your best self,” she continues, as she normally does before these betrothal events.

“Of course, Mother.”

Her mother, Queen Narissa of Zerla, appears to be satisfied and she walks into another room with the coordinator, making sure the decor was up to her standards.

Vi walks around aimlessly, twisting and twirling around the giant, empty space.

“So, Vi, are you prepared for your announce-your-betrothal party?” The new occupant in the room didn’t stop her graceful movements.

“Dance with me, Der!” She commands, pulling his arm, swaying to imaginary music.

He twirls her, and she giggles when he spins her out and then brings her close to him.

“Is that an order, Princess Genevieve?” He teases.

“Lord Derrick, I would never use my royal status against my betrothal.”

“Sure, never.”

They pause their dancing and grin ag each other. “I can’t wait to be yours,” he whispers into the quiet space.

“Der, you’re already mine, as I am yours.” She rests her head on his shoulder, his curly hair tickling her face.

“But is it ever official until the kingdom knows?” She laughs when his voice raises a few octaves higher to imitate her mother. A snort echoes in the space, magnifying the unladylike sound. Vi immediately brings her hand to her mouth to contain her laughter.

Der runs his hands up and down her side. It has become a nervous tick, she’s realized. “I think your mom regrets letting you choose your partner,” he confesses.

The tone quickly shifts. He’s being serious and self doubting. A mood that Vi hates with a great deal of passion.

“Well it’s too late to retract it now. I’ve chosen you. I’ll always choose you.” Reassurance was her only way to soothe his worries. Marrying a princess when not a prince or a duke has been hard on him. But he would do anything for her. Vi loves him for it.

She knows that her message is received when he gives her a small smile. Lifting her heels up ever so slightly, their noses brush as she wraps her arms around his neck.

“Lord Derrick! Stop distracting my daughter. You are not wedded yet!” Her mom’s shrill voice interrupts their moment.

“I apologize, Your Majesty,” he separates from Vi and bows his head.

One last glance before he leaves the room.

“Genevieve, no silly business until the announcement!” Her mother chastises, her voice sharp, unforgiving.

“Yes, Mother. I am sorry as well.”

“It’s that Lord Derrick’s doing. Why you chose him is not in my realm of understanding.”

“I understand and that’s all that matters,” Vi answers simply. Her mother never liked Derrick. While he came from status with his father being a high ranking knight, he did not come from wealth. She knows her mother would have rather she pick a man of wealth and status. But that’s too bad because Vi loves Derrick.

“No need for the snark.” Her gaze shooting daggers. Vi shivers under the visual attack. If her desired, she always thought she could bring an army to their knees with just her glare.

“I apologize, Mother.”

“That’s better. Diplomats from all four kingdoms are coming just to hear your betrothal. Since it isn’t anyone of importance, we have to present our best.”

“Derrick is important. To me,” she insists, not wanting his name to be tarnished right in front of her. He is her betrothal and she should respect him! By marriage, he’ll be the prince, for god’s sake!

A pointed look from her mother and she knows when to stop talking. “I meant someone they would have heard of, darling. Anyway, Gregor of Allaver is one of the notable guests.”

“Allaver is the center and most prominent kingdom, so we have to play nice. I know, Mother,” she points out.

“Good. You’ve been listening.”

Zerla stays out of the politics of the kingdoms, choosing to be neutral in almost every conflict. For certain special occasions, they host people from the different kingdoms and act like they care about them when Zerla is sufficient all by itself.

They’ve never had to rely on anyone else. Zerla doesn’t even trade any resources with them.

“Zerla must appear at its best. These kingdoms think some day we will need them,” her mother says, her gaze distant, as if in a different time. The “but we don’t” is left unspoken.

“Derrick and I know. We will do everything you requested.”

“Thank you, Genevieve,” she brings Vi into a hug, a rare instance of affection from the normally stoic queen. “I am glad that you’re happy.”

Maybe she did get it. That Derrick was her person. Maybe things were looking up for her mother’s perception of him.

“Even if I do not necessarily care for your choice.”

Close enough.

———

(Not exactly the prompt. More like Vi is like two opposite people around her mom and Derrick.)