With Genevieve's maids currently doing other things, Cassie stayed long enough to help her older sister put her bags away and settle upon her bed. “I wish I could stay longer,” The teen spoke while handing the older woman a book. “But we’ve got to get settled into our own chambers.” Despite her words, Cassie took a seat beside Genevieve’s hip. “I hope your foot is well enough for the ball tomorrow night. I know Gerald wants to dance with you at least once.” Genevieve smiled at that. No doubt he wanted to show her just how well his dancing had come along since her last lessons with him.<br/><br/>“I’ll be sure and save one for him.” The young woman settled back into her pillows as Cassie left and opened her book. It was a historical text detailing Gilthlore’s laws, amendments, under different generations. It was a dry read, but Genevieve needed to acquaint herself if she wished to rule effectively.<br/><br/>Of course, her mind wasn’t<span style="font-style: italic">really</span>focused on the text in her hands, and it took starting the same page over four times for Genevieve to finally give it up. But she was desperate for a distraction. Light eyes roamed about her chambers, searching for anything to keep her mind from Motto. And last night.<br/><br/>There was a twinge in Genevieve’s chest as she felt it tighten. How could he? How could<span style="font-style: italic">she?!</span>Genevieve had been so careful. So careful! Only for Motto, with his dark brooding gaze and quiet strength, to pull her in. To trap her. “Gods…” Why couldn’t he have sent her away that first night, instead of stringing her along. A terrible thought came to Genevieve: one that wasn’t true, but she thought nonetheless. What if he had strung her along, agreed to marry her, to boost his own male ego. For bragging rights. Motto, young King of Gilthlore, domesticated the hard to pin down Genevieve.<br/><br/>That…<br/><br/>It was absurd.<br/><br/>Right?<br/><br/>A grimace contorted Genevieve’s features for a moment as she eased weight on her injured foot. After the initial step, the rest weren’t nearly as painful as Genevieve crossed her room for her embroidery basket, thinking it might help. Of course, her gift for Motto -a silken handkerchief embroidered in Gilthlore’s colors- sat on top. A scowl pulled at Genevieve’s lips, but she picked the basket up anyway and settled upon her bed again. Not one to leave projects unfinished, she plucked the handkerchief from the basket.<br/><br/>And that’s what Genevieve was doing when her door opened. She had been leaning forward and over her work, attentively pushing her needle through the cloth when the door opened. She straightened, only for her eyes to grow wide at the sight of Motto. She had<span style="font-style: italic">just</span>gotten him off her mind! Pale eyes took in his straightened appearance, disheveled hair and…tears?? Why would Motto be crying?<span style="font-style: italic">What</span>did he have to cry about?<br/><br/>The jerky movements that brought Motto to the foot of her bed had Genevieve’s brow furrowed. He seemed to be overwhelmed with emotion. Genevieve didn’t know whether to run a soothing hand through his hair at her skirts, or stab him with her needle. Motto’s words had an extreme effect on Genevieve. Her head leaned back as she tried to absorb the tears that pooled at her lower eyelid. How was it she still contemplated forgiving the man, even after she saw him kissing another with her own eyes. Was she truly so weak??<br/><br/>Genevieve slid her foot from Motto’s hold, her hands trembling around her embroidery hoop. “Motto..” It was a whimper, heavy with her own emotion. “I’m…I’m not leaving. And I still plan on marrying you.” Gods, but if he was lying again and had no intentions of wedding her, Genevieve was sure she’d kill the man. “But I will not have you come into my chambers and play me for a fool. I have too much self respect and…” She moved to stand, holding her wince at bay. “I had hoped you’d held at least enough for me as well.” Tears had yet to fall down her cheeks, but they threatened too. Watery eyes gleamed in the waning light.<br/><br/>“I saw you, Motto. You and Setaphina.” The young woman was trembling, although she knew not why. “I saw you kissing her. Her hands on your chest and..” Genevieve’s face fell. “You didn’t follow me.” She whispered, as if that was the worst of it all. “If it takes something as simple as an argument to send you into the arms of another woman, don’t..” A hand gripped a bedpost, knuckles white. “Don’t come in here professing feelings you can’t possibly feel.” There was a crack in Genevieve’s voice that gave away how hurt she was. Her free hand came up to wipe at her cheeks. “You can have her and I will perform my marital duties to provide you with an heir. I just..I only ask for your respect, Motto. Respect to be truthful with me and stop.." Genevieve's jaw clenched. "Stop stringing me along. I deserve at least that."