The edges of Yvette's smile curled up. "Of course, my prince," she chimed, a bravado that didn't touch on how nervous she actually was. That was the part that her handmaids could have never prepared her for. She couldn't count the hours she'd stared at her mirror, with clothes and bereft of them, scrutinizing every inch of her body. Yvette was attractive; she was often told as much by men that she strung along. However, she'd come to realize over the past year that the prince had very exquisite tastes. What if he looked at her as they lay together only to decide that she wasn't his flavor? The thought was nerve-wracking. Nevertheless, she could not let her outward confidence falter. "After all, what is a marriage without a consummation?"<br/><br/>Any thoughts of sleep that Yvette had held immediately diminished and disappeared at the sounds and sights of the crowds. Yvette was used to attention. Being the daughter of a lord, she had become quite accustomed to prying eyes and crippling, unrelenting judgment. However, that was being the daughter of a lord. She was the wife of the soon-to-be king, now, and people would hold her to an entirely new standard. All she could do was poise and smile, waving elegantly at the peasants that she passed by. Putting on approachable airs was important in her transition. The more the people related to her now, the more likely they would be to forgive her sparse yet inevitable shortcomings as a queen.<br/><br/>When the carriage finally paused, Elijah made an artistic display of stepping out and holding out a hand to help Yvette down to the ground below. She took the proffered hand daintily and stepped down, saying a silent prayer to whatever gods were listening that she didn't fall. And she didn't, much to her satisfaction, and summoned an aura of grace as she continued a sway of her hand to the crowd. After a moment of indulging the masses, Elijah led her away, into her new home. The inside of the castle always took her breath away just a little bit every time she visited. She'd lived in a castle all her life in Redwood, but it couldn't hold a candle to the beauty of the royal homestead.<br/><br/>Yvette delicately traced the banister with her fingertips as they moved up the stairs, undoubtedly to the prince's chambers.<span style="font-style: italic">Their</span>chambers now, she corrected herself. Pearly white teeth dragged along her bottom lip, and she moved to rest both of her hands on Elijah's arm. "Shall we have a drink to celebrate?" she asked, resting her head on his arm as they walked because she wasn't quite tall enough to reach his shoulder.