Chapter 2 Chapter 2: Wedding Proposals.
Chapter 2: Wedding Proposals.
Jalena’s POV
The morning after Jonie’s celebration, the Leigh estate was still buzzing.
Servants whispered about the hundreds of guests who had attended. The gardeners were already collecting fallen petals from the terraces, and somewhere downstairs, two maids were arguing over who had danced with the more handsome nobleman.
But no one was quite as excited as Jonie.
“It was perfect.”
She sighed dreamily as I poured tea into her cup.
“Absolutely perfect.”
“I believe you’ve said that six times already,” Owen muttered from behind his newspaper.
Jonie shot him a glare.
“And I’ll say it six more times if I want.”
Duchess Leigh smiled indulgently.
“Let your sister enjoy herself.”
“I am enjoying myself,” Owen replied. “I’m also trying to enjoy breakfast.”
Jonie ignored him.
“Oh, Mother, did you see the flowers when I came down the staircase? They actually bloomed beneath my feet!”
“Yes, darling.”
“And Lady Vessier said my gown was the most beautiful she had ever seen.”
“As it should have been,” Mother replied.
“And Lord Harlowe asked me to dance twice.”
Owen lowered his newspaper.
“Wasn’t he the one who stepped on your dress?”
Jonie’s mouth fell open.
“That was Lord Creston!”
“Ah.”
“Owen!”
He chuckled. I smiled quietly as I moved around the table, refilling cups and replacing plates. Jonie continued recounting nearly every moment of the previous night—the applause, the dancing, the compliments, the nobles who had traveled from neighboring kingdoms just to attend.
Then suddenly, she turned toward me.
“I suppose I should be thanking you as well, Jalena.”
My hand froze. Coffee hovered halfway above Father’s cup.
“Me? I—”
“If it weren’t for your clumsiness,” Jonie continued brightly, “I never would have gotten the nerve to speak to Prince Wallen!”
She squealed. Her cheeks reddened as both hands flew to her face.
“Oh, Mother! He was so wonderful!”
I resumed pouring.
“Was he?”
“Yes!” Jonie practically bounced in her chair. “After the Jalena's crash, he asked me to dance. And not just once...three times!”
“Three?” Duchess Leigh asked.
“Three!”
Father chuckled.
“Sounds promising.”
“It was more than promising.” Jonie leaned forward conspiratorially. “We talked nearly the entire evening. He told me about the Royal Conservatory gardens, and how he needed my floral magic. Then he asked if I could bloom moon lilies in his personal courtyard!”
Her eyes became dreamy. and Owen's eyes lowered as he suddenly went into brother mood.
“His personal courtyard? Looks like I'll need to have a word with Quincy soon.”
“OWEN!” She yelled, “You'd better not scare him off!”
“Hey now, he's just being a good brother.” Father said, his voice filled with pride.
Jonie pouted, but her lips curled into a loving smile. Mother gasped softly.
“Oh, Jonie. I'm so happy for you.”
“I know!”
Jonie squealed again. I couldn’t help smiling. It truly did sound magical.
“And when we danced…” She sighed. “Everyone disappeared. I swear they did. It was just me and Quincy.”
Laughter filled the room. Eventually Jonie looked at me again.
“So, thanks to your little mishap, I had the best night ever.” She lifted her chin playfully. “I’ll let your accident slide…but just this once.”
I smiled warmly.
“I’m glad everything worked out, Lady Jonie. And congratulations. It sounds like you had a wonderful evening.”
“I did.”
Mother’s eyes shifted toward me. Her expression changed.
“Jalena.”
I straightened.
“Yes, Madam?”
“Now that noble families will begin courting Jonie, there will be considerably more visitors coming to the estate.”
“Yes, Madam.”
“From now on, whenever guests arrive, remain in the attic.”
My fingers tightened around the coffee pot.
“The other servants can handle everything downstairs.”
For the briefest moment, I couldn’t speak. Then I smiled faintly and bowed my head.
“Yes, Madam.”
Mother stared at me.
Something unreadable passed through her eyes but whatever it was disappeared quickly. She returned to her morning correspondence.
“So,” Father said, “how many proposals do we expect?”
And just like that, the conversation continued...without me. But I was used to that. It was the price one paid for being born without magical talent. Especially when one was born a Leigh.
The rest of the week passed normally. I spent my days doing my usually chores while staying mostly the attic.
Truthfully, I didn’t mind being there. My little room might have been lonely, but it belonged to me. I could read for hours beside the window or watch magical carriages float above distant Bouvier streets. Sometimes, I daydreamed.
What if I had been born like Owen? Powerful. Respected. Important.
Or like Jonie? Beautiful magic flowing from my fingertips, flowers blooming wherever I walked. Sometimes I held out my hand and imagined mana gathering against my palm wondering what my mana color would be. Blue. Gold. Perhaps silver.
Of course, that would never happen. So eventually I would laugh at myself, lower my hand, and return to my book. Daydreaming cost nothing and by Wednesday, there was plenty downstairs to daydream about.
The proposals had begun...dozens of them.
Noble families from throughout the Eastern Kingdom were suddenly competing for Jonie’s hand. By Thursday afternoon, I stood inside Jonie’s enormous bedroom holding four gowns while she emerged from her dressing room wearing a fifth.
“And Lord Creston sent six horses.”
“Really?”
“White ones.” She rolled her eyes. “Apparently they’re from some prestigious magical bloodline.”
“That sounds generous.”
“Then Viscount Harrington sent jewelry. Diamonds, obviously. Although I already own a better necklace.”
She disappeared into her enormous closet. I adjusted the dresses in my arms.
“And then Marquess Belmount gave this whole grand gesture in the courtyard yesterday,” she called. “Flowers everywhere, though none prettier than what I can create. Musicians. He actually hired an illusion mage to write my name across the sky.”
She emerged laughing.
“It was so ridiculously extra.”
“That does sound quite elaborate.”
“Elaborate?” She laughed. “It was embarrassing!”
She stopped. Her gaze moved over me. Something shifted in her expression. Pity mixed with amusement.
“Oh…” She tilted her head. “You should be so lucky you don’t have any magical mana, Jalena.” I blinked. Jonie sighed dramatically. “It is such a hassle having to politely turn down all these proposals.”
She selected a pale-blue dress from my arms and held it against herself.
“You’re lucky not to have to go through any of this.”
I knew what she was doing. Jonie enjoyed bragging and sometimes, she enjoyed reminding me that there wasn’t anything for me to brag about.
Still, I smiled.
“I imagine it can be difficult, my lady. Though I’m sure whoever you choose will certainly make you happy.”
Jonie froze.
Her eyes twitched slightly. For a moment, she simply stared at herself in the mirror. Then she sighed.
“Yes, well…” She tossed the blue gown onto a chair. “I won’t be accepting any proposals.”
I remained silent.
“Not until Prince Quincy sends me one.”
Her chin lifted; then she twirled around and disappeared into her closet again. I smiled faintly. Somehow, I didn’t think she would be waiting long. And Saturday morning proved me right...or so I thought.
I was helping Marta fold linens when a shriek echoed through the servants’ corridor.
“ROYAL OWL!”
My head snapped up. Another servant came racing downstairs.
“A royal owl has arrived!”
Within seconds, the estate erupted. A proposal delivered by owl could only mean one thing...Royalty.
“Oh my gosh,” Marta whispered.
I smiled. Prince Quincy. It had to be. Minutes later, everyone gathered in the grand room. Jonie hurried inside first, wearing a lavender morning gown.
“Where is it?!”
“Darling, slow down!” Mother followed close behind, though she looked nearly as excited.
Father entered with Owen. Owen grinned.
“Well, that didn’t take long.”
Jonie pressed both hands against her stomach.
“I think I’m going to faint.”
“Please don’t,” Owen said. “You’ll ruin the moment.”
“Owen!”
I quietly moved around the room with champagne. A maid entered carrying a silver tray. Upon it rested a thick envelope sealed with royal wax.
Jonie gasped.
“Hurry up! Hurry up!”
“Oh, darling!” Mother clasped her hands together, tears already gathering in her eyes. “This is it!”
“Damn,” Owen laughed. “I didn’t think he’d ask this soon.”
“Of course he did!” Father declared proudly. “As beautiful as your sister is, I’m sure His Highness couldn’t wait.”
Jonie was practically glowing. I handed Father his champagne. Then Mother. The Owen; and finally Jonie.
“Congratulations, my lady.”
She beamed at me.
“Thank you.”
The maid presented the envelope. Jonie snatched it up. Everyone laughed.
“Careful,” Mother said.
“I am being careful!”
“You’re shaking,” Owen teased.
“Be quiet!”
Jonie took a breath. Then broke the seal. The room fell silent. Her eyes raced over the elegant script.
Once. Twice. And then...her smile vanished.
CRASH!
The champagne glass slipped from her fingers and shattered against the floor. I jumped. Jonie’s face had gone completely white.
“No.”
Mother’s smile disappeared.
“Jonie?”
“This…” Her hands began trembling. “This can’t be right.”
“Darling?”
“No.” Tears suddenly filled Jonie’s eyes. “NO!”
Mother leapt from her chair.
“Jonie! What’s wrong?”
“What the hell is this?!”
Everyone froze. Even Owen stopped smiling. Father stood.
“Jonie?”
I remained near the serving table, my brows furrowing. What was happening? Had Prince Quincy changed his mind? Mother grabbed the letter.
“Give it to me.”
Her eyes moved rapidly across the page. Then she stopped. Her entire face changed.
“Josette?” Father asked.
Mother said nothing. Her fingers trembled.
“Josette.”
She slowly looked at him.
“Trayton…” Her voice cracked. “L-look.”
Father took the letter. His brows furrowed. Then his eyes widened. For several long seconds, no one spoke. Jonie had received a marriage proposal from royalty...but it wasn’t from Prince Quincy Wallen.
In fact…It wasn’t from the Imperial Family of the Eastern Kingdom at all. Father’s eyes remained locked on the royal crest pressed into the parchment.
The crest of the Northern Kingdom.
And beneath it was a name that nearly everyone in the Eastern Region knew. A man whose reputation had traveled far beyond the frozen borders he ruled.
Lord Remerian Vaughn.
The Ice King of the Northern Kingdom. And he had just asked for Jonie Leigh’s hand in marriage.
