Chapter Text
"What about this one?" Ariana asked, holding the dark green dress against her body. The velvet was certainly the loveliest dress she had ever owned, and it looked gorgeous.
"My dear, it is as breathtaking as you are," her mother smiled. She could hardly believe that her daughter was already of age for engagement, yet alone that she would be attending the Selection.
"Mama, please, do not flatter me beyond what is necessary," the young woman smiled. The Selection was here and with it came the endless possibilities for dear Ariana. Of course, she tried hopelessly in vain to not raise her hopes, but that was impossible. Especially when she knew that she was highly amiable and a very good fit for the prince himself.
Everyone told her so, and she could not see why she should not at least try her best at winning his affections. After all, she was as her mother said: breathtaking. She was beautiful in the multitude of ways that were expected of a young woman. She was tall and slender, with a healthy frame accompanied by a sweet face. She was particularly proud of her demeanor, but not so proud as to raise any suspicion of her being vain. She was smart, but not a know it all, she was kind, but not flirtatious, and she was demure, but not too prudish.
Ariana was perfect, and as her brother walked past her bedroom door, he could not help but smile softly at the voices on the other side of the door. Of course his sister should be excited over the Selection. She was, after all, perfectly suited for the duties of a princess. And being able to rise up among the ranks of the nobles would be quite a step up for the Lampton household. Not that they were in a bad spot in particular, but even Lyle could recognize that they could not continue with all their extravagant ways of living if something didn't change soon. The Selection had occurred at the perfect time, and, God willing Ariana was chosen as the Prince's choice, then everything would be perfect.
Lyle continued on his way to his study, which he took over after his father's death just two years ago. Every time he entered the room he felt weak and emotional, but the feelings had gradually grown more dull as time passed. It was never easy, but it was manageable. Of course, Ariana still refused to speak about their father, and their mother spoke of him far too much. Still, Lyle would rather his father's memory remain alive than pretend that his death never happened.
That was Ariana's way, however. If something happened which did not please or brought her grief, she ignored it or did not speak of it. Such as the time when her friend, Theresa had stolen away one of her past suitors, a man who Ariana fancied quite a bit. There was to be no more talk of Theresa or the suitor, except when news was found that Theresa had fallen pregnant outside of marriage, presumably because of the man. Ariana had quite a day reminiscing about the signs that she saw of Theresa being a harlot, and how she was just too good of a friend to gossip or cut ties. Ariana was looked at with grace and people were astounded at how lovely a person could be.
Lyle knew the truth though, yet he still loved and protected his sister, despite her frustrating duality. Perhaps that was a fault of his own, only being able to care about his family and close friends. Of course, with his father being gone and his sister on her way to the marriage market, he was expected to be on the hunt for himself. After all, he was the firstborn son, and so he was to sire an heir to the Lampton household.
There was just one problem. Lyle despised the idea of being intimate with a woman. He did not find them unattractive, per se. He could acknowledge that some women were beautiful, gorgeous even. He just felt no desire for them. In fact, he had never in the entirety of his nineteen years ever felt the physical desires of which his father had spoken to him about when he was younger. He did not crave a feminine form against his own, and the very idea of it caused him much discomfort. If he did not marry a woman soon, he would be letting his family down, which was unacceptable.
Perhaps he would feel differently once he found a wife, a fleeting hope that he clung to. But he did not have time to waste with his own troubles. He had to begin the process of getting ready to accompany Ariana to the Selection.
As per tradition, if the father was not able, the eldest brother of the young woman was to chaperone her to the palace of the prince.
To be perfectly honest, Lyle was much less than pleased about the ordeal. Obviously, he wanted Ariana to be chosen by the prince, however, he despised the idea of having to deal with the posh, stuck-up nature of royals. Due to their nobility he had dealt with quite a few of the lower-class royals when receiving their "condolences" for his father. They were pompous, arrogant pricks who Lyle had no desire to deal with, let alone become friendly with. But if it secured their place and their future, he could suck it up for an evening. And if the prince were to choose to court Ariana, then he could learn to deal with at least one royal. Even if that particular prince had a very… interesting reputation among the town.
Ariana may have been young, but she was well-enough involved in the local gossip to hear many stories in regards to Prince Darian’s escapades. They ranged from him exhausting entire brothels to taking multiple lovers on at once. Of course, with the description of his “god-like” stamina, he was also blessed with other… “god-like” features. Not that Lyle had ever thought of something as obscene as that. Obviously not.
It was simply that his younger sister and her ladies would not stop discussing the damned prince.
“I’ve heard he loves blondes the most!”
“No, he prefers gingers–”
“Well, I’ve heard he also lays with men! Can you imagine?”
“Oh, please, there’s rumors and then there’s slander!”
These conversations were all too common in the Lampton household, practically inescapable to Lyle. Unless he had business to attend to or barricaded himself within his room or study, the noise was impossible to get away from. He would never tell Ariana that, though. Why should he? She was to be a princess, she would need to be able to speak up when necessary. And Lyle would much rather die than ask her to quiet down. As much as he loved Ariana, she also carried the same temper their father had, and she had just as short a fuse. He’d made the mistake once, a simple “please, do be quiet, I need to work,” his voice soft and gentle as ever, and she had screamed, cried, screamed more, and then run off. Later, she returned to apologize, but Lyle was sure he never wanted to utter that deadly incantation again. Not if he preferred his hearing at least.
A soft knock sounded throughout the large room, and with a polite “come in,” his mother walked through the doors.
“Is she happy with the dresses?” Lyle asked.
“Very. She’s overjoyed, in fact, although I think that is more so due to circumstance,” she smiled.
“Good. After all, she will need to look her absolute best. We can’t run the risk of her not being chosen.”
His mother laughed as she walked towards him. “Lyle, I assure you, all will be well. You worry too much, my son.”
Lyle quirked an eyebrow. “Mother, I worry due to necessity. Those dresses were an investment, one we need to gain back, and soon. For all that Father did for us, keeping up with debtors was not one of them.”
“Lyle! Do not speak of him that way,” she frowned, her kind features twisting in hurt.
He immediately regretted it, and was quick on his feet to give his mother a hug. Affection was not very common among the higher ups within society, but Lady Lampton was always willing to show her children endearment, whether in words or in an embrace. Ariana had grown tired of the cheek kisses and hugs long ago, and while Lyle was oh-so stoic himself, he would never withhold sentiment from his mother on the idiotic basis that he was “too old for such nonsense” as Ariana had put it.
A quiet sob gasped against his chest, and he cursed himself for his harsh words once more. This was his father’s doing, yes, but his mother still loved the man. He was still her husband, still the father of her children, and for all intents and purposes he was a good husband. He was not nearly as affectionate or sweet, but he never strayed, never raised a hand to her, and never made her feel unworthy. Lyle knew that his father treasured his mother, possibly more than either him or Ariana, and he would not disgrace the man for his shame over their finances. Lyle could now understand the embarrassment himself, and he already had a difficult time going to the men his father owed money to. He could not fathom coming home and admitting that he had failed to his family and seeing their hearts break.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” he whispered quietly, as tears streaked his jacket. “I’m… I find myself very worried over you and Ariana. That is all. I love you both so much, a-and I loved Father as well. He was a good man.”
She sniffled once more, before collecting herself as though nothing was wrong. She turned away to inspect herself in the mirror hung against the wall.
“He was,” she took a deep breath, calming herself further. “He was very good. He made mistakes, I know, but… but he was good. And he loved you so much.”
It was now Lyle’s turn to tear up. He had never been particularly close to the man, but he was sure that his father did care for him. He cared enough to send him to school, to teach him manners and posture, to show him how to conduct himself in court like a proper socialite. His father provided, as best he could, and offered advice whenever questioned. Lyle grew to realize that his father was not a bad one, just simply distant. Distant like that of birds to clouds– always close, but never quite touching. He never understood his father, but he was always right by him. It was curious to be sure.
“Right!” his mother was back to her usual self, smiling despite the tiredness that shone in her eyes. “I came here to tell you that Lady Hall’s daughter Elise will also be attending the Selection.”
“I assumed most young ladies would be,” Lyle responded, his eyes drying as he caught on to exactly what his mother was implying.
“Well, yes, of course most will. But, with Ariana being a sure thing, those young ladies are going to be quite lonely. It might do them some good to be chaperoned or perhaps even dance with a young, handsome suitor such as you, my dear,” she smiled giddily. If there was one thing his mother was hellbent on, it was pushing for marriage.
Ariana lived for it, so that part was easy. Lyle had, naively, hoped that her being so excited at the prospect of marriage would take some of the heat off of him, but that turned out to be wrong. If anything, their mother’s enthusiasm for her childrens’ marriages only increased tenfold over time. Yet Lyle had no earthly idea how to properly tell his mother that he was all but entirely disinterested in the topic altogether.
“I’m sure there will be many other gentlemen waiting in the wings for those ladies, Mother. And, even if there were not any, I am still not in any position to be taking a bride,” he sauntered back over to his desk, hoping beyond hope that his mother would simply drop this incessant back and forth they had. Every few days, like clockwork, the conversation would start anew, as if the past days would cause Lyle to gain any attraction for the various daughters of his mother’s friends.
His mother sighed defeatedly, knowing that this song and dance would have to continue another time.
"In any case," she continued, "I hope you are prepared for any flirtations that are thrown your way, my dear. Those women are certainly chomping at the bit to be married off, and heaven knows the lengths they'll go to acquire a wealthy Lord."
"Thank you, Mother. I will heed the warning, and stay out of sight," he said with a grin.
Accompanied by a shake of her head and a slight roll of her eyes, Lady Lampton exited, leaving Lyle to ruminate over his current worries.
I refuse to be engaged in the flirtations of mere girls who play dress up, he thought to himself.