She sits on the grass, a breeze ruffling her hair, as she leans back so the sun hits her just right, and breathes.
She needs to do something by the end of the week, preferably today, but what? How do you get out of marrying a prince? Marrying someone else first? Anyone would be better, but who could stand up to a prince? Well, another prince, but marrying the crown prince would be just as bad. The princess? She's not against it, but she's pretty sure everyone else would be. Dukes are the next in the ranking, and if she's remembering correctly there are two of them. One in his fifties with a wife and at least one child—one of the love interests in the book—and one who she thought was going to be a love interest when he was first brought up.
Elijah Ambrose.
He was sought after almost as much as the crown prince. He was cold, but handsome, unmarried and rarely seen in public and known for his skills with a sword and his mana. Many readers were disappointed that after his first appearance at a ball, he never showed up again, quite like Amara. But at the end it was said he had passed away in a battle to the west. But that wasn't til the end, and maybe she could prevent it? It would be difficult with no knowledge of said battle.
She stands with a sigh, It's worth a try.
She'll need to go as soon as possible, needing time to figure something else out if this doesn't work. Time to meet the Duke then.
***
She'd changed into something nicer and managed to convince Tina to call a carriage for her, but she really should have thought of this. It's obvious she should have expected this before it actually happened, who can just drop in to speak to a Duke?
"Please, I only need a few minutes of his time," she tries, looking to the guard with pleading eyes—like he has the power to let her in—but she's desperate.
"I'm sorry ma'am, no one can see Duke Ambrose without an invitation or meeting set up, no matter how short the conversation may be," he replies, actually seeming sorry.
Damn. What does she do now? Wait? But who knows if he'll even leave the house today? And would he think she's some creepy stalker if she does that? Probably. Ugh.
She startles at the clip clop of horses behind her, turning to see a carriage pulling up alongside hers, though much nicer the hers is. Could it be? She's not that lucky, right? It pulls to a stop, a tall man stepping out. He has Golden blonde hair, and silver grey eyes, his mouth set in a frown. He's as attractive as the story said, if not more so.
"Apologies my Lord, I will have this carriage moved immediately," the guard quickly says with a bow, and right, her carriage is blocking the entrance.
Before he can move to do so, the Duke—because who else could he be— speaks up.
"Who is this?" he asks, giving Amara a dismissive glance.
Okay, not going well so far, but also could be going a lot worse.
"I am Amara Vanderbilt, my Lord, daughter of Baron Vanderbilt," she gives her best curtsy, meeting the man's cold eyes without fear.
If this is going to work, he has to see her as as much of an equal as he can with their positions.
"And why are you here?"
"I have a proposal for you—" He cuts her off with a scoff, but she barrels on. "It will only take a few minutes of your time, and if you don't agree to it I will never bother you again."
He raises a brow, "meaning you will be bothering me again if i do not hear you out?"
"No. That is your prerogative, if you do not wish to hear me, I will leave," she replies, hoping she has at least peaked his curiosity enough to let her in.
His other brow moves to meet the first, as he hums in thought.
"Take her to the parlour," he orders the guard after a tense silence, moving back to embark his carriage, her own having been moved while they were speaking.
"Yes, my Lord," he says to his retreating back. "This way ma'am."
She hurries to follow the guard through the gate with relief. That's step one done, now to convince him to marry her—how's she going to do that?! He wasn't even willing to marry the princess in the book, and she was known for her beauty, mind, and elegance. Whatever, the worst he can do is say no—or execute her—no, not thinking about that.
Think of something else, she looks around—looking for a distraction—only for her eyes to widen in awe. The gardens are beautiful, flowers of every colour, greenery as far as the eye can see, and the manor! It looks more like a castle in size! How could anyone need that much space? She continues to look around in wonder as she's led inside and into a room with two couches, a low table between them and a fireplace opposite the doors.
"Please have a seat, the Duke will join you shortly," the guard gives her a smile, and leaves.
Right, okay, she's doing this. She plops down on one of the seats and attempts to neaten up a little. She's seriously going to ask this man to marry her.
She startles as the doors open again, the Duke stepping in and sitting opposite her with an elegance she couldn't even dream to obtain. He watches her for a second, eyes narrowed.
"You have two minutes."
"Oh! Uh—" she stops, takes a deep breath and steadily meets his eyes with her own. "Will you marry me?"