I will...

Madeline would not have accepted this offer, this marriage, one she did not even know whom she was getting married to, but for her family she had to do it. She didn't want to seem like the bad daughter; after all, it was a way for their survival.

Earlier in her room, she had pressed her head to the wardrobe, tears pouring from her eyes like rain. The king better be good, for all these sacrifices she was making. He better be good, and that coldness she feels whenever she's near him better be a facade, for she was giving up her hope for love just for their survival.

Business was truly going down, and if it wasn't for the king who had patronized them, they would not have seen anyone. The farm, the crops are not yielding much harvest, enough for their survival.

While she had been weeping, her shoulders shaking, she had failed to notice Josiah who had walked into her room, his face turned sullen at the sight of her.

"Madeline," his small voice spoke innocently as he walked towards her, "why are you crying, sister?"

Madeline averted her gaze to him but not before drying her tears with her dress. "I'm just... I will miss you so much," she crouched down until she was at his eye level, then flashed him a smile and squeezed his hand. "I do not want to leave you."

"Madeline," Josiah enveloped her in a hug, patting her back, "Do not worry. Mother said I could come visit anytime, and the king, I am sure he will take very good care of you."

Madeline nodded, sniffing back the tears that were attempting to fall; Jo must not witness this.

Jo then looked at her and smiled, "You will be alright."

She nodded, that single word resonating within her until she left for the castle. She would be alright; maybe this was not all that bad.

However, when she reached the entrance and the door swung open, she doubted if she was ever going to be alright. The sight of the two most gorgeous people, wearing not so many clothes, greeted her.

Madeline was suddenly lost for words, her mouth agape.

Draven raised a brow at her, and Sebastian flashed her a smile. "Demoiselle," he spoke, calming the atmosphere, "Good to see you."

Madeline nodded, giving him a small smile. "You too."

Draven's cold voice spoke, jolting her, "Why are you here?"

At least a little politeness would have been enough to ease her, but this man was cold, even his voice was like the tip of an iceberg.

"I would love to have a word, my king," she bowed, hoping that he would truly give her time as he seemed to be busy.

Draven sighed, flashing an apologetic look towards Sebastian. Sebastian nodded and looked once more at Madeline, "Bye, Demoiselle," he gave her that boyish grin before leaving, the one that made her heart flutter. But she shook her head; she must not think of him.

"Speak," Draven said, his voice laced with impatience. From her appearance and especially coming here so early, he had no doubt that she had come here to reject his offer; if she did, he might take matters into his own hands, which wouldn't turn out well for her.

"I.. I have my answer now," her voice stuttered as she spoke.

Draven nodded, waiting for her to speak.

"I will marry you," Madeline bit her lip after those words slipped out. Her hands clenched her dress by her sides; she had prepared so much for this, so why was she feeling nervous?

Draven just stared at her, his face difficult to read as it remained straight. He did not expect that answer; he had thought it would take longer for her to decide. Well, it seems he might be wrong.

His lips curved into a sly smile, "Now, that is enough to make my day run smoothly." It was a lie; this was enough to have his heart racing - if only he had a heart. But he only prayed this marriage would benefit him.

"But, my king," she bit her lip, shaking her head, "never mind," darting her eyes away from him.

"No," he spoke softly, shaking his head, "Go on." Why was he always losing himself in her presence?

Madeline raised her head to meet his gaze, "I... I have, my king, this is new to me."

"So, it is to me as well," there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Madeline ignored him; he was the king, there was a possibility he had been with many women, he clearly knew everything about this.

"I... well," she bit her lip, muttering under her breath. How embarrassing. She cleared her throat, "I have never had anyone love me," she gulped, realizing where she was going. Even though her mind was screaming for her to stop, she kept going, "I do not know how to act, but, since you have noticed me, I will try my possible best to..." She gulped, "it is only right that I treat your feelings fairly."

Draven's eyes darkened, his hands behind him curled into a tight fist. Love, if only it was impossible to hear that word.

He growled internally, because of his approach, she must be thinking he had feelings for her, and with the way she spoke now, it was clear she did not have those feelings for him.

He took a deep breath; he couldn't afford to love her. That had been a lie to make her believe him. The thought of her not feeling anything for him was a relief; love was not something he wanted in this marriage.

"The carriage will send you home. In one week's time, we will have our wedding," he whispered.

Madeline's eyes caught his lips when he whispered those words; she was lost in that succulent... No, this man might look like those she read about in books, but he was definitely not one of them. He was too cold. Why did she let her eyes travel to those full, heart-shaped lips? No, not again, Madeline.

"Madeline?" he tilted his head, curiously watching her, "Did you hear me?"

"Yes, of course, my king," she bit her lip. She shouldn't be distracted when he was talking about the wed... Wait, the wedding in one week?

She shouldn't be surprised; from the day the messenger came to her doorstep with his message, which had surprised her, she had come to realize that this man and his every action were still a surprise to her. It was as if he himself was a surprise - the devil-looking man coming to her doorstep, smiling mischievously, and whispering, 'You, Madeline, be my wife.' Like a dog following its owner's orders, she had agreed.