Her, Marrying Him? Never.

Had Sophia been driving a car, she'd have slammed her foot to the pedal and stopped everything she was doing.

"Come again?" She asked sceptically with wide eyes, albeit her question went unnoticed as Nicholas continued, on a roll.

"With you and me seeming like we've both fallen in love, and having the best of times with each other, the presumptuous ladies trying to court me will finally leave me alone, assuming me unavailable, while you already have a means to an end to the problem Julia just gave you," he elucidated.

"And what makes you assume I'd agree to this plan in the first place?" Sophia asked.

Nicholas reasoned, "Given that you refuse to wed me, and I you, this solves both our issues, and as your grandmere informed me, there is to be a ball being held this evening, in a few hour's time. Besides, you have nothing to lose now, do you not?"

"Already having your grandmere's approval, it is the perfect setting and place for it all to start, the perfect grounds to pretend we're madly in love," he profounded.

Sophia pondered about it, the benefits it'd have, excluding the fact that she'd have to eventually tell Louis what she felt about Nicholas while playing along with the 'pretending to be in love' arrangement, thinking she'd have to pretence when she didn't. She couldn't fathom she was considering it.

"A ridiculous idea, truly. What makes you think I'd give my assent in the first place?" Sophia asked sharply, her heart beating madly out of her chest as she tried to act hesitant and doubtful. Despite the fact that she knew he was right. Indeed, she had nothing to lose.

In addition, grandmere would be overjoyed, not to mention she'd find out the reason why she longed for him whilst keeping up the ruse.

With someone she'd pretend to be in love with, it'd leave the others to assume that she already had a partner to rule Beldovia with, a man who was a prince, no less. A man already raised to take over the throne. No matter if feelings were real or a sham, it'd end up benefiting both her and whoever her future significant other may be, prince or no prince.

Even if she had absolutely nothing to lose and everything to gain, she still refused to accede.

"What do you think this is, some lifetime movie? This is a reality, your royal highness, we can't go on and do something this…rash," Sophia said with a scowl.

"I suppose you're refusing?" Nicholas questioned, neither confirming nor denying anything Sophia had said.

Sophia blinked in incredulity, at a crossroads, split between two decisions. One, to accept and falsely achieve this major coup; second, to decline and remain nothing more than acquaintances.

Her heart screamed for the first, her mind the second. Any compromises she could possibly think of non-existent. It was the former or the latter.

She grumbled, "I suppose I'll have to consider the arrangement."

"What was that?" Nicholas asked, smug.

"Don't make me repeat myself, and don't think I can't discern that this benefits yourself more than it does me," she spat back.

Nicholas chuckled.

"Well I'll just have to discern you'll come to a decision before the end of the ball," he presumed.

Sophia rolled her eyes.

"If I must."

"In that case, I'll see you this evening," Nicholas said, bowing mockingly before he made his exit.

As soon as Nicholas left, Sophia growled.

'Why am I acquitting myself this way?' Sophia said as she grilled herself for the whys and hows.

She had come across as ill-mannered or discourteous to the prince, something she was unknown for.

She still couldn't unravel why she had felt this way around the man, why her heart would change its pace from being leisurely to briskly in a matter of seconds from being in the same vicinity as the prince.

'He's not handsome,' she told herself.

On the contrary, she thought him stunning and found his countenance absolutely gorgeous.

'He's a jerk,' she told herself next as she sank deeper and deeper in her seat, sensing her lies and deceit which were as clear as crystal.

On the contrary, a part of her thought him to be a gentleman, even whilst she was handling herself less than poorly.

Sophia groaned, royally distressed.

'I've known this man for not so much as a day and he's succeeded in putting me in misery, what a treat,' she murmured.

"It's been like this for less than a day and grandmere envisaged me to wed the man, the idea itself is ridiculous," Sophia said aloud.

She found the whole situation quite absurd, seeing how ludicrous it was in general.

Her? Marrying him? Never.

Her miscreant stepmother - that of whom made a claim for the throne for herself; her having to find someone to wed to assure the kingdom doesn't fall into the wrong hands, a matter grandmere tried to resolve, hence came Nicholas.

As she found out that very same day, he was a prince, from Sanguis.

During the years, the opinion or reputation of Sanguis had changed drastically. As Sanguis deteriorated over the years, so did its king's and queen's health. Having no monarch reigning over the kingdom, it eventually led to war.

She shook those thoughts aside, not giving it a second thought, or at least, trying not to.

As she was about to exit the room, a maid found her, as she informed her, "Your grace, your presence is accounted for in the fitting room for the last flourishes for your gown to be worn for tonight's ball."

"Of course, I'll be right there," Sophia responded, nodding politely.

The maid curtsied before she left to attend to other important matters.

Immediately, Sophia made her way to the fitting room, walking as a royal did, as she halted.

She turned around, trying her best to walk away as quietly as possible before, "Sophie!"

'Must she call me that every time we meet?' Sophia cursed under her breath, uttering, 'I could've gotten away before she noticed me.'

She spun on her heel.

"Lady Clarisse!" She called, watching as Clarisse sped up her pace, nearing her.

"Oh, it's been the longest time since our days at university, I've missed you," she said fondly, embracing Sophia.

"Yes, it has indeed," Sophia as she pried herself out of Clarisse's embrace whilst trying to hide her smile.

She wasn't fond of being affectionate in public settings, much less with her friends. Her exceptions were her family, but that was all. Packing on public displays of affection was a rare occurrence for her.

"So, what brings you here, Claire?" Sophia asked.

Clarisse, or Claire, as Sophia called her, chuckled.

"I'm here for you silly!" She exclaimed.

"When I heard my best friend was back in Beldovia, of course, I had to come and pay a visit," she said before her tone turned slightly more serious and whispered something in Sophia's ear.

Sophia subconsciously scratched her nape.

'You know how I get when I'm around Emilia, get this feeling of… je ne sais quoi,' she mumbled.

[Note: Je ne sais quoi = 'I don't know what' in French]

One would ask why she was that way whenever she was around her stepmother, and over the years, Sophia had an endless amount of answers.

Part of her held Emilia responsible for her father's absence in her life. Part of her placed the blame for her father's death on Emilia with no viable evidence of her being anything other than innocent, despite her knowing deep, deep down that Emilia was just her scapegoat for all her past problems. She was the easiest one to blame for all her late father's actions. She was one of her father's closest confidants, as well as the woman he had replaced her mother with.

And to make matters worse, that same woman intended to take the throne - which was her birthright - away from her.

Talk about a stereotypical evil stepmother.