Io royally hated everything right now, no pun intended. She hated that her life stopped being normal sixteen years ago, she hated that she knew it would never go back to being the way it was before, the way it was when she was a child. They were never leaving, that much was clear. And Io didn't even remember why he and his people came here in the first place. Them. The Imdalians. She supposed it didn't much matter anymore. The humans were crushed in every rebellion attempt, and many people died. Far too many people died, on both sides of the war, though the human losses were exponentially greater. She guessed humans decided that there'd been too much bloodshed and they'd resigned themselves to their fate of always being "lesser".
And then there was the proposed alliance, true peace, blah blah blah. She didn't remember which species had the idea of a marriage, which is where she was brought in. The lucky girl with a heart of gold, stepping up to the plate for the good of humanity when no one else would. Oh please, she didn't have a heart of gold, and anybody who said otherwise was just trying to get something outta her. Or she pretended to, when she wanted something from them. But others wanting something from her... is exactly why she was in this situation to begin with. And she royally hated it. Io hated this Anrinar or whoever the fuck he was, the supposed 'future spouse' that she was supposed to meet, and she hated every damned alien on her planet.
But, like the other humans, she resigned herself to her fate. For now. If there was anything Io could do to achieve true peace, other than obviously killing the monarch themself, because she really doubted a simple political marriage would ever accomplish that, she would do it. In a heartbeat. But for the time being, all she could do was sit in the castle gardens and wait for her stupid betrothed to come meet her.
For the moment Io stayed sitting on the concrete bench that faced the fountain, looking down at herself, rather than looking up when movement appeared in her peripheral. She was in the finest clothing she could afford, which... Really wasn't saying much. It was not all that fine looking at all. And it was entirely black, head to toe, dressed as though she were on her way to a funeral. In her mind, that was exactly what this was. The death of her freedom, the death of her sanity. A funeral for the person Io used to be. Of course, the outfit was without shoes. She was barefoot, Io had a love/hate relationship with shoes that tended to trend towards hate most of the time. She probably should've worn a pair today, to make a decent first impression, but who was she to care about good first impressions? She was only here because nobody else wanted to be. So she volunteered. Better her to suffer than anybody else, eh? At least she could handle herself. And if anybody deserved the torture of this marriage, she supposed it was her.
The reason she took a moment to stay sitting was because she had been unceremoniously pacing back and forth while waiting not long before sitting down, out of pure agitation and anxiety, and she had been walking over sharp stones and twigs. The soles of her feet, while not bleeding, were a little scuffed and sore. Another reason she should've worn shoes. However, despite the fact that Io was well aware it was impolite not to acknowledge someone of the royal family, at least it worked that way with humans and she was sure it worked that way with his kind as well. She didn't particularly care to greet her newly betrothed, though Io knew he was standing right in front of her and had spoken to her. Rather begrudgingly it seemed on his part and she couldn't blame him. But she didn't want to respond. So, she didn't. In fact she pretended he wasn't even here at all.
It was best she collected herself anyways, before she said something she would regret. Rather unfortunately for her, Io didn't exactly have a filter and on the rare occasion she had the wit to think before she spoke, she should really take advantage of that. Which lead to her very pointedly ignoring him and staring anywhere else but in his direction. It certainly helped that the staff left, but she was still forced into his company, quiet and looking bored and a little frustrated. She imagined he had the same look on his face despite the fact that she wasn't looking at it and couldn't tell.
“Do you not speak English?” Anrinar questioned. Should he try another language? Perhaps she did not speak at all? No, judging by the way that she was tensely staring into the fountain, she’d heard him. And was ignoring him. “I hope you know, refusing to speak to me is just going to make this all the more tedious. I can sit out here all day and wait for you to show me respect. If you don’t wish to, so be it, but the longer this takes the longer you’re stuck in my presence. So choose wisely which is more worth it to you.”
Fantastic. They sent him someone stubborn and rude. Would it have been too much to ask of his advisors to choose someone polite? Yes, he had asked for ‘quiet’, but this wasn’t exactly what he’d meant by that. He’d meant soft-spoken, courteous, demure. This woman was not that at all. He supposed at least this meant she wouldn’t be boring.
Io sighed, head flopping backwards in exasperation to stare at the cloudless sky. The weather did not match her mood. It was sunny, bright out, cheerful. Birds chirping, butterflies flitting among the flowers, it was the perfect spring day to anyone else. She was miserable. But she’d chosen this. She had only herself to blame for the predicament she was in, and decided she may as well get this whole thing over with. She stood up and faced her betrothed, dipping into a low sweeping bow, and finally spoke.
“You’re right, your Majesty,” she began, voice dripping with sarcasm. “How dare I not show the utmost deference to my king? After all, I thought you had requested someone who would not speak to you. My mistake.”
“Yes indeed, your mistake. For appearance’s sake, we do have to look like we get along. After all the paparazzi could be lurking around every corner. You don’t want to look disagreeable, now do you? The whole point of this, while not exactly my idea in the first place, is a unity of our people. You’re not doing a very good job at being uniting.”
“I can too be uniting!” she huffed defensively. Who did he think he was, telling her she was doing a bad job for five minutes of refusing to acknowledge his existence? Jackass. “I just didn’t feel like talking.”
“Or answering my question, it seemed. That’s alright. I’m not going to repeat myself. You can find your own way to your rooms, feel free to get lost in the castle all you like. Makes no difference to me either way,” Anrinar shrugged. It seemed it didn’t take much to get under her skin. That could be a problem if she ever had to sit in on meetings, if she couldn’t learn to be less defensive.
“I was planning on it. I don’t need your help anyways,” Io retorted. What was the worst that could happen? She liked to explore, so it wasn’t a big deal if she got lost, and she was pretty certain that her room would be (hopefully) labelled. If it wasn’t, nothing a little process of elimination couldn’t hurt, right? It shouldn’t be that hard to figure out. If it was a room that was obviously in use, it clearly wasn’t hers, and if it was an unused one she could always just claim it whether it was hers or not. As long as it wasn’t on the top floor at least, Io was not the most fond of heights.
“So be it. But if you’re late to dinner with my advisors over it, it will not look good on you. Nor will dinner be saved for you if you’re so egregiously late you miss it entirely. Food is served at six pm sharp, cleared away promptly at half past seven. You have three hours to find your room, clean up, get changed. Don’t show up in your… funeral attire. Best hurry up now.”
With such a clear dismissal, being quite literally waved off and shooed away, Io walked off through the gardens and into the palace to do a whole lot of searching. She did find her rooms... Eventually. How did she know they were hers? A lovely gold plaque on the door that had had her name engraved on it, in an elegant cursive script she wouldn't have been able to read had her name been any longer than the two letters it was. Very fancy stuff. In fact, the whole of the room was incredibly fancy stuff.
Her chambers were large, about the size of a small apartment, and though bare of anything personalized to her, was still full of a clear air of luxury. A bed large enough to comfortably fit three full size adults covered in plush downy quilts and enough pillows to smother herself in, a huge velvet couch, equally large armchairs over by a corner library that extended all the way up to the ceiling. A fireplace was over there, too, though that was woefully useless to her outside of aesthetic purposes. She couldn't feel the heat, never had and never would. Her cryo prevented it.
There was also a very large walk in closet on the opposite wall to the bed, and a bathroom next to that which was just as immensely sized as everything else in the quarters. Stand in shower, walk in tub, bath salts and oils, bubble bath, soap that looked incredibly expensive. It was all just so... much. She wasn't used to it, and didn't think she ever would be. Now that she was finally left alone, she crawled into the bath in the hopes of getting some relaxation, and only pulled herself back out when she started falling asleep in the water- Io didn't particularly want to drown. After that she curled up in bed for about an hour before getting dressed for dinner. She was not looking forward to having to see him again.
Io was not even remotely certain what she was supposed to wear, once she was conscious again. Was this supposed to be a casual dinner, something like a cocktail hour, or was it a full formal event? She didn't want to show up vastly underdressed if it was the latter, but also didn't want to be the only one super fancy if it was more... Low key. After some internal debate she figured it was probably more of a formal affair, considering it was her first day at the palace and it was likely being used as the perfect event to introduce her at. Plus, she was explicitly told not to wear what she’d already been in. She should try to make a better first impression than she'd already made, especially if they'd allowed a couple of media personalities at the event- journalists, newspaper photographers. It wouldn't shock her if they had, nor would it shock her if they hadn't. Truly, Io could see it both ways. So, to choose a dress that made her look like she belonged there.
She perused the collection of gowns in the wardrobe, noting they looked like they were already tailored to fit her at least reasonably well, if not entirely as how would they have gotten her full measurements. But they looked approximately enough to be her size, so estimations must have been made.
She avoided the pink hued gowns entirely, along with the yellow ones, or basically anything else brightly colored. Io preferred deeper jewel tones, she felt they complimented her better, and also just preferred them. Soon enough she found one that looked like it would do just fine. Floor length, navy blue, fitted off the shoulder bodice with a gentle sweetheart neckline, the chiffon skirts flowing while not being excessively poofy (which was another thing she despised). It seemed there was a subtle silver undertone in places, little flecks that seemed to glitter like the night sky when the light hit just right. That seemed all too perfect- if she was marrying a man from the stars, she would look like she came from them herself. She pulled her curls back into a low and loose bun, a few strands framing her face, a little mascara and a burgundy lipstick, and off she went to find her way to the dining hall. Thankfully it wasn't hard to get to, she was able to find her way there easy enough. Bottom floor, right in the middle of the whole palace, centrally located.
The moment that Io walked into the hall through the double doors she was practically accosted by a woman who looked incredibly similar to her new betrothed. Taller than she was, slim and the color of copy paper with very gray undertones, the same long silvery hair of Anrinar. The same slate stone colored eyes.
“So this is your bride!” the mystery woman gushed, reaching out to twirl a lock of Io’s curls in her clawed hand. “She’s absolutely stunning, you must have exaggerated. She doesn’t look scraggly at all.”
“Zey, leave her alone,” Anrinar sighed, noticing the discomfort of the bride and the way she smacked his sister’s hand away. Bold choice, to touch the princess. “And scraggly wasn’t the word that I had used.”
“The word you used doesn’t have a direct English translation,” Zeyurian retorted, paying no mind to the fact that she’d just been swatted away. She took it in stride. “Either way, she’s lovely. I’m Zeyurian, by the way.”
Io looked back and forth between the two, listening to the bickering, and deducing they were very likely siblings. She was an only child herself, but grew up with friends who had brothers or sisters or even both, and understood the dynamic. She had a best friend, Lucinna, who she often regarded as an older sister. And Lucinna, well, she had no idea about the upcoming wedding. That was going to be a fun conversation to have. If anybody hated the Imdalian people, it was her friend.
“I’m just glad that she’s on time and cleaned up nicely,” Anrinar said coolly, giving his future wife a brief glance over. Lovely indeed, for a human at least, though he would’ve preferred a prettier personality over a pretty face. He wasn’t so shallow after all as to desire a beautiful queen above all else, no, he wanted someone who would do one of two things- actually do her job effectively, or stay out of his way.
“Too bad the same couldn’t be said for you,” Io remarked, rolling her eyes and taking a seat where she was indicated to.
“I like her,” Zeyurian grinned, in a conspiratorial fake whisper.
“I don’t,” he said deadpan.
“You don’t like anybody, Rin. Except for me, you love me.”
“Not right now I don’t,” he scoffed and sat, rather unfortunately next to Io. His advisors would be trickling in over the next few minutes as the meal courses were brought out, and he signaled for his sister to behave herself. Despite his tone though, his twin knew she could get away with murder and still be forgiven, because yes he did adore her very much. Even when she was annoying.
Thankfully she listened and sat to his other side, though not without childishly sticking her tongue out at him first. Zey knew how to act like a princess however, and this dinner was important enough for everyone that she didn’t want to mess it up by being a pest. Anrinar may have been reluctant to go for this arrangement, but it was the best plan anybody had. It was the only plan anybody had. She was more hopeful than her brother that it would all work out.
As the advisors took the last few seats at the table, and the first course was brought out, Zeyurian turned to Io with what she hoped was a welcoming smile. “So! How was your journey here? Where did you travel from?”
“Wisconsin,” she said, then quickly corrected herself at the blank faces around the table. “Tolreus. In the Great Lakes region.”
After the war, His Majesty (well, it was probably him at least) redrew all of the borders. Instead of over two hundred individual countries, it was ten regions, all renamed. But as a show of ‘good will’, names of bodies of water stayed the same. Lakes, rivers, seas, oceans. The Amazon River was no longer in South America, it was in So’Aldi. The Great Lakes were in Tolreus. The states no longer existed. There was no Midwest, or Deep South, or New England. Though some very stubborn people, herself included, still kept referring to places as what they were named before.
“Oh my, that was quite a journey, wasn’t it? How are you finding Talonia? Is it too cold for you? A lot of humans, I’ve been told, really dislike the cold. But it’s spring, and much of the snow is gone except for in the north!”
Zeyurian seemed to be a rambler. She was, other than appearance, distinctly unlike her brother, who was a bit of a dick. Granted, Io had met worse people, but he was still rude. And she didn’t like him. His sister on the other hand seemed eager to get to know her, if a bit… intense about it. The nature of an extrovert. Lucinna was the same way, so Io wasn’t exactly overwhelmed, but also not very keen on sharing her whole life’s story to a stranger.
“It’s fine. Where I’m from is pretty damn cold too, especially in the winter. So I’m used to it. It’s really not that bad,” she said, attempting to turn her attention to the appetizer course. It was a bread of sorts, and some kind of earthy smelling broth to dip it in. It wasn’t anything she was familiar with, so it was almost certainly a recipe that did not originate here on earth. But she wasn’t a picky eater by any means, and enjoyed trying new things, so she took a careful and tentative bite of the bread once she’d soaked it a bit. It was very flavorful, strong and herbaceous, a taste profile she had never experienced before. It was good.
“That makes sense. His Highness told me you were without a jacket earlier today, so I worried. Humans are not as hardened to the low temperatures as were are, Earth is much warmer than Imdalia was. It’s why so few of us settled near the equator. We’re… not as fond of the heat.”
Shit. Io knew she had been forgetting something. A coat, for appearances sake. Something to not give away that anything was amiss about her. But when one couldn’t feel the cold anyways, it was easy to just not bother with layers or a jacket, despite the fact that it would be highly out of place to do so. At least her cold skin always had a ready excuse if noticed.
“Oh yeah, these kinds of temperatures are like, shorts and a t shirt weather back home. Once it gets above freezing in the spring consistently enough, a lot of us put our winter coats away. But not everywhere is like that,” she explained.
Everybody around the table seemed to take her answer in stride, though one of the advisors looked less than thrilled with her presence. Io wasn’t sure if it was her specifically he seemed to have something against, or if it was an ‘I hate all humans’ thing. Most likely it was the latter, unless Anrinar spent as much time complaining about her to them as he did with his sister. She decided not to take it personally.
Despite being glared at, the rest of dinner went smoothly. The main course was brought out, which was very savory and meat forward. Even the sides that accompanied the dish were very meaty. Which, the Imdalians were prominent hunters and basically almost entirely carnivorous, so it made sense, but Io enjoyed her fruits and vegetables and the food was sitting pretty heavy in her stomach. It was delicious, but very rich and very filling. Thank god there was no actual dessert being brought out, she wouldn’t have had room for it. She couldn’t even finish what was placed in front of her, which earned a bit of an eye raise from the king but otherwise nothing was said about it.
And, as warned, the plates and anything remaining on the table were cleared at exactly half past seven. Everything was incredibly prompt there, it seemed. Anrinar probably ran a very tight ship. Awesome, she was so looking forward to what was likely to be a type-a personality with controlling behavior. She expected nothing less from a king, though.
He dismissed his advisors with a brief wave of his hand, who cleared out immediately, and despite his sister’s attempts at bargaining, she too swept out of the dining hall with a miffed huff. Anrinar only rolled his eyes at Zey’s antics, he was sure she wanted to stay only to pester the new future Queen (if Io could even be called that). As mildly entertaining as that was sure to be, he didn’t particularly care to deal with it at the present moment. Especially if invasive questions ended up asked and it devolved into an argument.
“Where are you going?” Anrinar asked, when Io stood up and looked about ready to leave with the others.
“Back to my room, duh. Dinner is over.”
“I did not dismiss you, Miss Clybourne. Everybody else, yes. Not you.”
“What, and you think I need your permission to leave the table?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Nah. You’re not my dad. I leave when I want to, not when you tell me to.”
Anrinar looked like some kind of cross between dumbfounded and offended at her attitude. How dare she? “Excuse me? You’re correct about one thing, I am not your father. I am your future husband but above all, I am your King. You do need my permission. I do not expect much from you, as I personally don’t believe you are capable of much, but I do expect obedience.”
The only thing Io did at that statement was laugh and walk away, striding out the double doors as if she owned the place. Anrinar had done much research into Earth history, and their monarchies, when this arrangement had been proposed. Previous kings would have had her head for such behavior, or at minimum some time in a dungeon until she learned her lesson. He liked to think himself a more lenient ruler than that, but Io had to learn respect somehow. He sighed, and gave himself a few minutes before also leaving the room to head back to his chambers. He’d think on it overnight, was he was going to do with her, but for now, sleep.
The only sounds in the palace for the rest of the night, were the quiet changing of guard posts, and any lingering staff moving about. Even Io was asleep rather than causing any trouble.