Chapter 2 THE TWIN ALLIANCE

Adrian opened his eyes and turned. Prince Eric approached with a bright smile on his face, his cloak shifting lightly behind him.

“You look tired,” Eric said softly.

Adrian straightened. “It was only a meeting.”

Eric’s smile faded into concern. “You’ve been in meetings since dawn. Have you eaten anything?”

“That can wait.” He replied.

“Adrian,” Eric said gently, placing a hand on his brother’s arm. “You work too hard.”

“And you work too freely,” Adrian replied, but his tone held no anger, only quiet honesty.

Eric laughed. “Someone has to speak with the people.”

Adrian chuckled. “The people! … do they still gather for you in the market?”

Eric nodded. “They enjoy telling me their worries and sometimes their joys.”

He paused. “I wish you would join me one day.”

Adrian looked away. “I would only make them uncomfortable.”

“You underestimate yourself,” Eric said.

But Adrian said nothing. Some truths were easier left unspoken.

Queen Elizabeth watched her sons from a balcony as they walked through the courtyard. She saw Adrian with his composed steps and Eric with his natural warmth with arms wrapped around his brother.

Her hands tightened slightly on the railing.

King Jeremy approached beside her. “You’re worried,” he said.

“I’m a mother,” she replied softly. “Worry is my duty.”

“They are both strong,” the king said confidently. “Our kingdom is fortunate.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “but strength comes in different forms. Adrian carries responsibility alone while Eric carries expectations from the people he never asked for.”

The king sighed. “They will grow into their own paths.”

The queen shook her head.

“Yes… but I fear the world may not be kind to either.”

One night, the palace hosted a small feast to honor visiting nobles from the western valley. Musicians played gentle tunes, servants carried silver trays of fruit and wine, and torches lit the great hall with warm gold.

Adrian stood near the end of the table, speaking with Lord Braine.

“You’ve expanded your wheat fields this season,” Adrian said.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Braine replied proudly. “We expect a stronger harvest this year.”

“That is good news,” Adrian said. “The kingdom needs stable supplies.”

Nearby, Prince Eric spoke with several young nobles, his voice lively and bright.

“And then the merchant insisted I take the basket,” Eric said, laughing, “even though I told him I don’t need ten apples for one visit!”

The nobles laughed, charmed by his humor.

Adrian glanced toward them. He did not envy Eric. He simply felt… separate.

“Prince Adrian?” Lord Braine asked. “Are you well?”

“Yes,” Adrian said quickly. “My mind wandered for a moment.”

The music softened as King Jeremy raised his cup.

“My sons,” he said warmly, “stand with us tonight.”

Eric stepped to his side cheerfully while Adrian walked more slowly.

The king looked at both of them, then the audience and said, “Arrandelle thrives because of unity, of yours and ours.”

The guests raised their cups in agreement.

Eric smiled confidently. Adrian only nodded, though his heart felt heavy with a weight no one could see.

Later that night, the palace halls grew silent. Adrian walked alone toward his chambers as the torchlight flickered on the walls.

As he reached his door, he paused

A soft breeze drifted through an open window.

Below, he could see Eric in the courtyard, speaking with a guard. Eric laughed at something the guard said as his smile was warm even under moonlight.

Adrian watched silently.

He whispered to himself, “The kingdom loves you, brother.”

His voice held neither jealousy nor resentment but only quiet acceptance.

He stepped inside his room and closed the door gently behind him.

Despite the unspoken comparisons, both princes were bound for the same future. They had a marriage to the princesses of the neighboring kingdom of Seatopia.

Seatopia was a realm of sapphire seas and bright harbors and ruled by a king whose dedication to his children was well known.

The elder princess, Athalia, had been promised to Adrian since childhood. She was composed, elegant and disciplined. Scholar’s spoke of her intellect and nobles praised her poise.

The younger princess, Emelia, had been matched to Eric though their affection had begun long before any ceremony could bind them. Emelia’s presence was gentle and luminous. She possessed a calm that drew people to her like moths to soft candlelight.

The two sisters could not have been more different, yet both were admired.

But admiration is seldom equal.

Where Athalia was described as refined, Emelia was called radiant.

Where Athalia was respected, Emelia was cherished.

Even in foreign courts, suitors flocked to Emelia like moths to flame more than for her sister. But Emelia's heart was steadfast and unwavering, belonging only to Prince Eric.

The kingdoms of Arrandelle and Seatopia had known conflict for generations. From small disputes over trade routes, old grudges between noble families to the stubborn pride of rulers who valued tradition above progress. Yet all those tensions began to fade when Prince Eric and Princess Emelia met at the midsummer summit.

Their first meeting had been unplanned. Emelia had escaped her royal escort to see the gardens alone, and Eric got tired of stiff court conversations and had done the same. They crossed paths near the fountain of crystal lilies, startled to find another runaway in such a peaceful corner.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” Eric had said, offering a warm smile.

“You are,” Emelia answered, failing to hide her amusement. “But I suppose I can share the fountain with you.”

That brief exchange became the seed of something unexpected. Each day of the summit, they found reasons, sometimes poorly disguised to return to the gardens. The royal families noticed, then the nobles, and soon diplomacy moved in the same direction as the young couple’s hearts.

Now, after two years of tending both their love and the fragile alliance between their kingdoms, peace no longer seemed like a distant dream. It seemed assured.

The palace of Arrandelle buzzed with excitement as preparations for the twin alliance formal engagement began.

Seamstresses worked from dawn until moonrise on Emelia’s ceremonial gown. Floral designers argued passionately about which colors best represented unity. Musicians practiced endlessly in the echoing halls.

Advisors, ministers, and ambassadors scurried about, trying to keep pace with the tide of celebration.

But in the midst of the chaos, Eric and Emelia sought moments of calm.

One afternoon, they walked through the royal orchard, where spring blossom moved in the wind like pale pink snow. Emelia brushed her fingers along the flowers as she walked beside Eric.

“I wish peace could continue feeling like this,” she said softly. “Like something gentle and almost fragile.”

Eric nodded.

“Fragile things must be protected. And I intend to protect this peace, whatever it takes.”he said

Her smile warmed him. “You always speak as if the world rests on your shoulders.”

“It often feels like it,” he admitted.

“Then allow me to share that burden,” she said. “Peace is not yours alone to guard, Eric. It belongs to both of us now"

Yet even as they walked beneath the blooming trees, both sensed truths unsaid. Peace was never simple especially not for royalty.