HIS NAME VIKINGS 7

Betrothal and marriage. Two words, as simple or hard as they seem, that made even the most crafty and playful individual respect.

The season’s second ball, after my arrival, was at the baron’s house. not only to craftily engage the debutants or embrace and provide opportunity for the searching bachelors, but to mainly celebrate her daughter’s betrothal to the prince of Russia after her acceptance of his quest for her hand in marriage.

"Willock, make sure you dance today, brother. Stop failing his grace." Henry called out to me as I was climbing down the stairs towards the doorstep, where every member of the family stood. Today, I did not dress like a Viscount. I chose the ring that I was so used to from childhood; maybe this can be one of the good luck signs. "Ready?" The viscount asked as he closed his study room’s door. I saw him scan each and every person and then extend his hand to show us that we all should leave together. Outside, the carriages waited for us one by one for our entry and then departure. The guards were quite seated at the front, from which they would direct the horses, and so hastily, we entered the carriages. Three of us, men, on one carriage; William’s sister, with whom I never got a chance to speak; and the Viscount and Viscontess on another. Quite a solidarity family, an example indeed. Timely, darkness was entering, and the carriages left one by one. The journey was quite solid; no one dared to speak, and wherever I was, the scent and perfumes that William had infused into his clothes would make any allergic man or any man who dislikes strong scents choke under his breath. I was never the type to speak about people’s wants and clothes designs, but if this was for the sake of the princess, then I would say that he quite wasn’t different from me. But honestly, I always preferred just the rose scent and some light perfumes and freshness on my body and clothes. I was not much of a sweat-dripping male, I may say, which once made my father think I was sick or did not quite exercise as much. Either way, today I tried to impress her too, but I was still scared and nervous. I had thought of taking a bouquet of flowers with me and just giving it to her, but imagining the eyes the viscount would allegedly offer me, especially knowing how much his son liked the girl, I decided to stop. I was an inexperienced boy when it came to love, that I knew. "We have arrived, my lords." The guard stated. The baron’s riches entrance, had no gate, but be sure, no criminal nor any intruder would ever enter his farms. As I had heard, in comparison to other barons in other provinces, he had the most dangerous guards, the best trained and fed dogs, and a tiger caged far away. He sure used to surprise me with the stories I heard, and with me being here today, I would lay claim and state the argument as true. Everyone had arrived, and the carriage that was used to transport the royals, that is, the princes’ and princesses, could be seen just a few miles away from ours. We left our carriage and began walking towards the doors of the baron’s castle, as he acknowledged and welcomed each and every person. "I hope the princess is here." I heard William murmur. No one replied to that, not even one. "The viscount and his family, pleasure to meet you again." The baron stated, a stout man, with his large moustache that covered the ends of his mouth. When Uncle, as he told me to call him, stated, "Of course, Lord Van Bond. Your happiness is our happiness." And with that, we were directed into the house. A large house, full of all types of paintings and drawings. At the front, instruments embraced the stage, which were slowly and melodiously entertaining the guests who had arrived. My eyes revolved around the house, and I decided to walk away from the shadows of the Viking’s son and his nephew to get myself a drink. Maybe a drink would give me the courage to approach the princess and request a dance. As I was sipping the drink in front of me, studying and looking for maybe another lady who would flatter my heart as the princess did, the princess, accompanied by her brothers, with whom we shared the same age, came in. Both with their guards and their royal coats and hats, could not be helped but be observed. They were royals. The princess, with her little sister, even made me wonder: how did the king have so many children of the same age? Well, my father told me children were made from marriages, and when the king was betrothed to his queen, no one stopped them from having as many children as they wished. Five they were. Their age gap wouldn’t certainly be more than five years, I would love to say. As I had heard, of course, from my investigations, the princess was sixteen, while her sister followed. However, the young princess, wasn’t allowed to participate in these ballroom dances, for she was betrothed. Though, according to the prince's stories, I hear, there was an elder, with whom the King calls on when drunk. But according to my hearings and what Henry had said, the King’s eldest son was not bore from the marriage beds, but outside, to a woman, unknown to many. Maybe the King never really respected her marriage vows.

The sounds of the instruments brought me out of my thoughts in concern for the royals; families, and businesses. I saw the baron’s daughter embrace the empty dancing stage, les by her own, the prince of Russia, to start and bless the dances. As fast, each bachelor was seen joining with their rightful partners, hands on each other’s waist and shoulders, and perfectly dancing, England’s cultural ballroom dances. Wherever I stood, my body spoke two words, Nervous, yes; anxious, yes. My mind was hazily and sharply screaming at me to try my luck with the princess. For one, it would be rude of me to not participate in any dance scene on my arrival in London and two, rumors would spread all over England, and sure father would learn about this. My legs, with all the courage, and with my face upright, carrying the power and acknowledgement of the Duke’s name, I found myself standing, with other gentlemen on a line, waiting for the princess to stop her talks with her brothers and turn his attention to us, she did not stop. Fail, I may say. She had not even once stared, gazed, or looked at us. She assumed we never existed, and when I realized she was not drinking anything, I decided to go and get her a drink. Fast and smiling, feeling that my idea was perfect, I took the most loved drink by the ladies here and reached out near her, and all of the attention, from those gentlemen to his brothers, turned to me. I knew I had to talk, for a gentleman who couldn’t speak in front of the vulnerability of a woman’s eyes was regarded as a worthless coward, and his marriage proposal was always rejected by the lady’s family members, and so I started, "I noticed, gentlemen, that our princess did not sip the tasty drinks that our baron has prepared for us. So please, would you mind, my lady?" Her lady, under her gracious presence, observed me without making any utterances. When her long, slender fingers, covered with white gloves, took the glass off my hand, and stated, "I don’t drink, but out of your kindness and your observant nature, I wouldn’t give you the wound of rejection." I just nodded to that when his brothers started leaving one by one, and alone we were left, with me, not knowing what to say nor utter. I knew this moment was a treasure, for William would soon come and cut me off, requesting the princess for a dance. "What do you love? What kind of drink, princess?" I asked. I had realized, that she had not taken a sip of the drink, it was just her hand tapping on the glass, lightly. She again looked at me. But this time, with her looks, that which, I couldn’t understand nor read. It was some look of wanting something but not stating it. Her eyes were again averted from me to the dance floor, and that’s when I knew what she wanted. The dancers were tired of dancing, and if anyone was entering the dance floor, it would be us, literally, alone. My body started quavering, and slicks of sweat started forming on the tips of my fingers. Stupid was not a word I would let myself look as in front of the princess, but entering the dance floor, my mind started thinking of maybes; maybes, If I trip or dance in a crooked manner, but looking at the princess, seeing hope, seeing her adoration and yearning under my presence, I couldn’t say no. "Can I have this dance? Your highness, princess" And as I held out my hand, waiting for hers to interject, I felt the crowd’s eyes on us. As if analyzing, and she, for the first time, took my hand, and I, gracefully and steadily, took her to the dance floor as the music started. It was a norm at balls that when two people started a dance, other dancers would join, but ours did not. They all watched us in admiration, and I would hear viscous Mammas murmur in low tones and others clap and stare in amusement. Remembering my anticipations for my first dance, my mind, like an eraser, erased every murmur and person in the room, and my eyes fixed on her, the princess. Her eyes looked at me in wonder, and her mouth smiled the perfect smiles. Her presence, at the moment, felt like one instant, that I would so much love to rewind each day and night. I was taught and watched, but never in real life practiced the art of my dances with one I felt my likings were compatible with. My legs were always flexible, I may say, and my hips swayed to any dance music, for any royalty dance styles. I always felt dancing was a time-wasting moment, but this felt like forever, and then our dance was over, and in retrogression, like any other dancer, we bowed to each other and left the stage, returning to the area where we stood earlier. Watching the princess, I saw her smile shyly, as if rewinding what had just happened. I wanted to speak, but no words could come out of my extremely happy and contented heart. It felt like my dream had come true. Then, in the dance floor, I hadn’t thought of a single stance of the Viscount’s son. I thought now, watching us, he was fuming with anger or, strangely, hate towards me. "You two embraced and lighted the stage." I heard Henry speak at my back and then quickly bow, to the princess, "Evening, princess." As I wanted to speak, William arrived at the same area where we stood, and I sensed this was not good. "How’s the day, princess?" Was the first question William asked. And all our gazes turned to him. My eyes, as fast diverted to the princess’s with whom, to my amusement, eyes were still locked unto me. If I had to describe my reaction, I would say surprised and delight consumed every bit of me in all aspects of life and urgency. "May I speak with Lord Vikings? Alone!" The princess stated. A command from one of the high ranks meant respect by all, and I saw Henry and William dismiss themselves as fast. I was still a young boy—or, I would rather say, a grown teenager—who was exploring the early stages of his youth life. Mesmerized, agitated, and happy are the words I would use to describe myself. Despite knowing I had to speak, her eyes and her words were all I wanted to hear. Listening, just listening. Listening carefully to any of her stories, but that’s not how it works here in England, the man should always engage in conversation, so I started by saying, "I did not get your name. Okay, excuse me." I felt my mind tell me to introduce myself; I was edgy about the princess's reaction to this, so I started again, and this time I would call myself a fool: "Hello, you look stunning today. What’s your name? I so much yearn to know." After I just altered those words, I saw confusion and fear cross the princess's name, and in retaliation I stated as fast as I could, "I'm sorry. I mean, I, I, I was never told your name since my stay in Bavdon. I don’t know how to say this; it even sounds embarrassing to say it. I feel like I cornered you or used you." She just observed me and uttered, "Diana, Diana, my lord." Her voice was quiet, as if her mind was questioning a lot. Of course, I had done wrong. I had not acted up; it's unwise to dance with someone you don’t know, and our dance was not just this; we had our moments, about which no one knew, and so I started talking again, "My apologies, princess Diana. Such a beautiful name for not just a princess of England, but even the princess of all humans." "Your Lord, if your wish is to amuse me, then retrieve your acts." She interrupted me, and I knew I had done her erroneous. "My apologies. I did not know when to ask, speak, talk, or request for your name. My utterances before were out of nervousness, my princess. I don’t know the effects it has had, but I am glad. Glad of your presence, and my presence as stated, as long as our speeches rhyme, am happy. " I saw her smile at my words, Good sign. I told myself, "You should have just asked for my name; not speaking like two people who have just met." She stated, and I nodded to that, a smile leaving my face, when her brothers came and asked for her hand, for they were yet to leave. As she left, I caught a glimpse of her smile and a slight wave toward me. My heart flattered, my face was already red, and my face could not stop the smile, for which so much yearned and which I showcased with a little smirk. I then decided to leave for outside and watch them leave and maybe wave them, and on my arrival, they had already left, and just coldness was outside, when in the dark, I heard someone state, "You liked her too, brother." William it was, and as I was turning to face him, he knocked me with some bat onto my head, and I could feel hot liquid streaming down my face. I was taught how to fight, but today, caught unaware, I felt my face dizzy and fall over as the words of the crowds forming around me started to echo far and away. "Vikings, Vikings," I heard the Viscount state, and nothing; I just dizzied away into darkness and nothingness.