The Prince's Arranged Marriage
Chapter 62: A day in Valtoria

Chapter 62: A day in Valtoria

The morning sun filtered through gauzy curtains as Lucien and Alexander stirred in their shared bedchamber. Their private wing—an entire suite of rooms reserved just for them—had become a haven of tranquility. Last night’s soft music from the chapel still seemed to echo in Lucien’s ears, and Alexander’s gentle warmth at his side made rising feel like a tender promise.

"Good morning," Alexander murmured, brushing a kiss against Lucien’s forehead.

Lucien smiled, stretching luxuriously beneath crisp white linens. "Good morning," he replied, voice still thick with sleep. "What shall we do today, my love?"

Alexander slipped from the bed and retrieved a pair of robes from a carved mahogany armoire. "I thought we’d spend the day here in Valtoria," he said, slipping Lucien’s robe around his shoulders. "No remote palaces, no distant tours—just us, and the city we both know so well."

Lucien sat up, gingerly rubbing his eyes. "A two-week honeymoon in Valtoria itself," he mused, his mind already whirring with anticipation. "That sounds perfect."

Before they could linger further in the warmth of their bed, a discreet knock sounded at the door. A chamberlain entered, bowing respectfully. "Your Highnesses, your morning meal awaits in the sitting room, and your trunks have been moved to your private wing. Your attendants stand ready with anything you might require."

"Thank you," Alexander said, and with a final smile, the chamberlain departed.

---

The sitting room was elegantly appointed: deep burgundy drapes framed arched windows overlooking the palace gardens, and a low tea table sat between two comfortable armchairs. Fresh flowers—white lilies interwoven with golden roses—filled a crystal vase on a side table. Lucien and Alexander settled onto plush seats as a footman laid out their breakfast: warm pastries dusted with sugar, honey from Altheria drizzled over fresh figs, an array of cheeses from Veridia’s rolling hills, and a steaming pot of jasmine and mint tea.

As they ate, Lucien reached across the table to touch Alexander’s hand. "I love that breakfast like this feels like a private moment," he said softly. "No courtly eyes, no polished audiences—just us."

Alexander squeezed his hand. "It’s our honeymoon. It deserves small, perfect joys."

They shared a languid meal, feeding each other pieces of fig, savoring the balance of sweetness and tartness. Their conversation drifted from light teasing—Alexander playfully mocking Lucien’s preference for extra-honeyed pastries—to deeper hopes: plans to restore Veridia’s rural roads, to commission Avalorian scholars to teach at a new joint academy, and to draft a charter for a cross-kingdom cultural exchange. Yet even as they spoke of policies and legacies, each idea was tempered by laughter and gentle touches—a reminder that their partnership was as much about personal affection as political duty.

---

After breakfast, a valet guided them down a quiet corridor to their personal quarters. The door bore an intricately carved crest combining Veridia’s double eagle with Avaloria’s silver griffin. Inside, their belongings awaited: trunks filled with clothing from both kingdoms, artwork commissioned for their suite, and books sent by friends eager to celebrate their union. The room was decorated in soft tones of ivory and gold, with rugs imported from Riverbend and tapestries depicting scenes of Veridia’s mountain passes and Avaloria’s rolling plains.

Lucien ran his hand along the polished wood of a writing desk. "We’ll spend hours here, planning our future."

Alexander nodded, running his fingers over a painting of two entwined trees—an engagement gift from Elara. "And sometimes just resting. For today, though, our city beckons."

With smiles and a final glance around their sanctuary, they closed the door and descended into Valtoria’s morning bustle.

---

Their first stop was the Grand Cinema, a magnificent hall crowned by a rose-tinted glass dome. The façade was a blend of classical stone columns and Art Nouveau flourishes. A banner above the entrance proclaimed, *Special Matinee: "The Scarlet Griffin"*, an epic romance set in Avaloria’s past.

Inside, the lobby’s marble floors gleamed under chandeliers of cut crystal. Movie posters lined the walls, promising adventure and drama. Lucien purchased two tickets and a large tub of popcorn from a gleaming brass dispenser. Alexander added two cups of hot chocolate, its sweet aroma drifting through the air.

They settled into red velvet seats in the center row, the perfect vantage. As the lights dimmed, Lucien leaned against Alexander. "I used to come here as a boy," he admitted. "With my tutor, on winter afternoons."

Alexander smiled in the dim glow. "And now?"

"Yes, here, at my side." Lucien’s voice was tender, and Alexander’s hand found his under the armrest.

The film began with a sweeping overture. Throughout the next two hours, they watched swordfights on moonlit ramparts, clandestine meetings in lush gardens, and declarations of love whispered beneath starry skies. They laughed at witty banter, held their breath during moments of peril, and wiped away tears when the lovers finally united. Each glance between Lucien and Alexander reflected shared understanding—their own romance mirrored in celluloid.

As the credits rolled, they rose to applause with the rest of the audience. Lucien clapped Alexander on the shoulder. "Well worth the price of admission."

Alexander chuckled. "And worth every stolen moment."

---

Step by step, Lucien and Alexander made their way to the bustling Market Square. Stalls selling exotic spices from Crossroads, silks from Solara, and fresh produce from Riverbend lined the open plaza. Musicians played lutes and violins beneath a fountain carved with dancing dolphins. Dancers in swirling skirts invited onlookers to join their circles.

Lucien dropped coins into a passerby’s tin cup. "Their music is enchanting," he said, as Alexander clapped along.

They joined a circle of dancers for a brief reel. Lucien laughed as Alexander led him through simple steps, their bodies brushing together in the swirl of color. The dancers cheered, and Lucien and Alexander took a final bow before moving on, still smiling.

At a nearby stall, a caricaturist sketched them together—two princes entwined, smiling broadly. They paid him and accepted the lithograph. Lucien examined the quick pen strokes and grinned. "A treasure," he said.

Alexander leaned in to kiss his cheek. "One to hang in our study."

---

The riverbank called to them next. They found the Riverside Tavern—a half-timbered inn built upon wooden pilings over the water. Inside, sunlight gleamed through water-spattered windows. They grabbed a table on the balcony, where a gentle breeze kept the air cool.

The menu featured the tavern’s specialties: **smoked Altherian trout in dill cream sauce**, **roasted root vegetables glazed with honey**, and hearty **Avalorian barley stew** served in hollowed bread bowls. They shared a plate of **fig-and-honey pastries** for dessert, drizzled with Veridian cream.

Between bites, they watched swans glide under a stone bridge and fishermen cast lines into the soft current. Occasionally, passersby waved greeting the princes; children shouted, "Long live the princes!" Lucien raised his fork in salute, eliciting cheers.

Alexander reached across the table, brushing Lucien’s hand. "These simple meals taste so much better with you."

Lucien smiled. "Agreed."

At one point, a young mother approached, clutching a baby swaddled in a pale blue blanket. She hesitated, then bowed. "Your Highnesses, I bring you this small gift." She handed Lucien a delicate woven hat for Alexander’s goddaughter. "For the wedding gift registry."

Lucien accepted it graciously, tucking it under his arm. "Thank you, Mother. We will treasure it."

The mother fled back into the crowd, leaving both princes touched by the everyday kindness of their people.

---

Their next stop was the Scholar’s Tearoom, a hidden gem behind the Grand Archives. Stone arches dripped with ivy, and the courtyard was scattered with wrought-iron tables beneath rose-laden pergolas. The hush of scholarly conversation mixed with the whisper of leaves overhead.

They ordered **lavender-infused tea** for Alexander and **roasted chamomile** for Lucien, accompanied by **cucumber finger sandwiches**, **smoked salmon pinwheels**, and **miniature lemon tarts**. As they ate, they spoke of quieter dreams: restoring Veridian libraries, sponsoring Avalorian apprenticeships, and creating a garden in the palace dedicated to both kingdoms’ medicinal herbs.

When a visiting scholar recognized them, she approached with a stack of vellum scrolls. "Your Highnesses, we hope you might review our treatise on cross-cultural education." Alexander accepted the scrolls graciously. "Your work honors both our kingdoms."

Lucien patted her hand. "We are eager to support this. Thank you."

The scholar departed blinking in awe, leaving the princes to sip their tea in reflective silence. Lucien squeezed Alexander’s hand. "We have much to do."

Alexander nodded. "Together."

---

Evening approached as they strolled back along the riverbank. The setting sun painted fiery ribbons across the water. Street lamps flickered on, casting golden pools of light on the cobblestones. Vendors sold spiced nuts and candied fruits; families picnicked under willow trees; young couples held hands on wrought-iron benches.

Lucien paused at the edge of the stone embankment and wrapped his arms around Alexander’s waist. "I could stay here forever."

Alexander turned him gently to face him. "No need for forever. Just this evening."

They shared a soft kiss beneath drifting lanterns. Passersby offered approving smiles, some pausing to murmur blessings. Lucien’s heart soared—this simple, tender moment felt like a lifetime of happiness condensed into a single breath.

---

Night fully settled as they made their way to the Lighthouse Terrace, perched atop a riverside tower. Lanterns hung from wooden beams, their light reflecting off the water below. Tables were set with **avocado-and-crab salad**, **seared pigeon breast**, and **rosewater panna cotta** for dessert—all specialties of the terrace’s famed chef.

They dined with the city lights as their backdrop. The Bridge of Griffins sparkled in the distance, and the moon shone high above. Alexander raised his glass of Veridian burgundy. "To us," he toasted, eyes gleaming.

Lucien clinked his glass. "To us."

They ate slowly, savoring each bite and each glance. At one point, Lucien dipped a spoon of panna cotta into Alexander’s mouth, eliciting a pleased hum. Alexander responded by offering Lucien a spoonful, their laughter mingling with the soft music of a distant mandolin.

---

Full and content, they returned to their wing in a quiet carriage. The palace corridors were still, lit by torchlight. Their personal attendants delivered warm slippers and fresh linens, while Elara arrived to wish them another good night before departing.

Lucien and Alexander stepped into their suite, hands entwined. Lucien paused by a small table where a single white rose lay in a silver dish—Elara’s final gift for the day.

Alexander guided Lucien to the window seat overlooking the gardens. "Thank you for today," Lucien said, resting his head on Alexander’s shoulder. "It was perfect."

Alexander kissed his temple. "Every day with you is perfect."

In that quiet moment, with the moonlight filtering through the lace curtains, Lucien felt a profound peace. The day had been a tapestry of simple pleasures: cinema laughter, market melodies, shared meals, kisses beneath lanterns. Their city of Valtoria had become a honeymoon paradise, a place where duty and delight blended seamlessly.

As they prepared for sleep, Lucien reflected on the day’s joys and the promise of tomorrow. He traced Alexander’s hand with his fingertips, feeling the steady beat of love and loyalty. Alexander pressed Lucien’s hand to his heart, and together, they turned toward their bed—husbands, partners, and friends—ready to dream of the life they would build, one tender moment at a time.