3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Drew
Eleven Years Ago
“Come on!” Drew took Bri’s free hand and pulled her with him at a jog toward their treehouse.
“I can’t run this fast in my dress and these stupid shoes.”
Her hand slipped from his, and he turned and watched as she knelt, putting her cup of sweet tea beside her before she unclasped the straps of her short heels. Drew couldn’t help but admire her in the pink dress. She was the prettiest girl he’d seen in his entire life, and he didn’t think that would ever change.
Bri tied the bottom of her dress in a knot to the side before grabbing her shoes in one hand and her cup in the other. When she caught back up to him, there was a giant smile on her face. “That’s better.”
He returned her grin. “I think you should wear your sneakers with your dresses.”
“Tell that to my momma.” She nudged his shoulder with hers.
They walked the remaining few yards to the treehouse Bri’s parents had arranged to have built for them on the palace grounds when they were younger. They’d thought it was the coolest thing they’d ever seen, from the wooden ladder and the arched entryway to the way it was nestled perfectly in a giant tree. Now, at the age of twelve, Drew still thought it was the coolest hangout spot.
“Do you want me to carry your drink up for you?” Drew asked.
Bri shook her head. “I got it.” She dropped her shoes onto the grass and bit down on the plastic cup with her teeth. She climbed up the ladder effortlessly, even in her ball gown. Once she reached the landing, he followed up behind her, carrying his drink between his teeth the same way she had.
When he stepped into the treehouse, Bri had already taken a seat at the small wooden table in the corner and wrapped a knitted blanket around her shoulders. He took the seat across from her and took a long swig of his drink. “I’m so happy they had sweet tea at this ball.”
“And I’m thankful for the servers who don’t report to my parents when we have more than our fair share.” Bri giggled and brought her own cup to her lips.
“Did you see who my parents forced me to talk to tonight?” Drew’s lips curled up in disgust.
“No, my parents were too busy carting me around to talk to all their other friends and their kids.” Bri rolled her eyes. “Whom did you have to talk to?”
“Clarissa.”
Her face pulled into a grimace. “Ooh. Why’d they make you hang around with her ? She’s the worst.”
“I don’t know, but I’m nervous they might try to pair me up with her or someone else one day. Could you imagine anything worse than an arranged marriage?”
“That would be awful.” Bri looked at him for a minute before her face slowly morphed into a smile. “I might have an idea that could help us both.”
“I’m all ears.”
She reached into the box behind her and pulled out a piece of paper and a marker. “Why don’t we make a pact to marry each other?”
His heartbeat picked up speed, and his palms felt clammy. “You want to marry me?”
“I don’t like you like that , silly. But we could make a promise to each other so we don’t get paired off with awful people one day. I would much rather be stuck with you.”
The idea of them stuck together forever had Drew grinning from ear to ear. “Yeah, I would rather be with you too.” He picked up the marker and pulled his lips to the side as he thought. “Maybe we should sign our names and promise that if we’re both still single by a certain age, we will marry each other.”
“Yes!” Bri nodded enthusiastically. “And if our parents try to make us marry someone else we don’t like. At least we like each other.”
“This is all good, but we need to make sure it sounds fancy,” Drew said.
“Maybe we could use a few big words? My daddy’s proclamations always have big words in them.”
“What big words could we put in it?”
“Hmm…” Bri looked around thoughtfully. “I remember part of a speech said they ‘do so solemnly swear.’ Maybe we could use that?”
“I like it.” Drew wrote down what they’d said so far in his best handwriting. His tutor would be proud. He nodded at the paper once he finished. “Now, what age should we say we will marry each other if we’re still single?”
“Thirty should be good. That’s ancient, right?”
“Right,” Drew replied, already writing it down.
“We should also give it an official name. The Marriage Pact.”
“That’s perfect. Now, we need another big word to make it sound extra professional.” Drew tapped his chin with the end of the marker. “Maybe we could use a silly word like forevermore or henceforth.”
“Henceforth it is.” She raised her plastic cup of sweet tea into the air. He mirrored her motion, and they clinked their glasses before downing the refreshment.
Drew wrote the final line and then signed his name at the bottom before passing the marker to Bri. She signed her full name underneath his, and then they read over the agreement together.
We, Andrew Henry Archibald Whitaker and Brielle Margaret Elizabeth Clairmont, do so solemnly swear to marry each other if we are both still single by the age of thirty or if one (or both) of our parents tries to force us into an arranged marriage.
This agreement shall henceforth be referred to as The Marriage Pact.
Signed,
Andrew Henry Archibald Whitaker and Brielle Margaret Elizabeth Clairmont
“It looks very official. You did a good job.” She slung her arm around his shoulder, and his cheeks warmed at the touch.
“Thank you,” he squeaked out. Turning to her, he added, “Should we seal it with a pinky promise?”
Her eyes went wide. “That would make it the most official thing ever . We never break a pinky promise.”
Drew extended his pinky toward her. “Then let’s promise each other right here and now that we’ll marry each other under any of those conditions. Or…if we ever actually fall in love.” He added the last sentence with a shrug, trying to look casual despite the pounding of his heart.
“I pinky promise,” Bri said, wrapping her dainty finger around his.
“I pinky promise.”
Bri stood, smoothing the top of her dress and folding the blanket she’d been using. “I should get back to the ballroom before my parents realize I’m missing.”
Drew let her step down the ladder first as he carefully folded the marriage pact and then tucked it into his pocket. When he landed on the grass, he dropped to his knee and slipped Bri’s shoes back on her feet for her.
She smiled down at him, and he hopped up, offering his arm. He escorted her back to the ballroom, and just before she slipped behind the door, Bri popped her head back around. “Drew?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for being my best friend.”
He stepped forward and pulled her in for a hug. “Thanks for being mine,” he whispered.
Drew had recently started giving bear hugs to those he was close to. Everyone thought it was the way he felt the most loved, but only he knew the truth behind those embraces—he wanted a reason to hold Bri in his arms as often as possible.
Without another word, she disappeared behind the door. Drew walked to a nearby bench, where he rested until his parents found him.
“There you are.” His mother pulled him to his feet and wrapped an arm around him. “Are you ready to head home?”
Drew nodded and followed them outside to the car.
They went to bed when they arrived back home two hours later. When he was sure everyone would be asleep, he tiptoed down the hall and into his father’s office, softly closing the door behind him. Drew hurried over to his father’s desk and set the pact down before opening the top drawer. He located the king’s official seal in the secret compartment in the back of the drawer and took it out. He wanted to make this piece of paper as legally binding as possible.
After lighting a tea light candle, he placed the stick of blue wax over it. While he waited for it to melt, Drew ran his thumb along the metal edge of the seal. It was a replica of his family crest, complete with a white horse on top. The king’s seal was used as a way for other members of the royal court to “sign” a document when the king wasn’t present to make it official, although the method wasn’t used often.
When it was hot enough, Drew carefully dripped a small amount of the wax underneath their signatures and then pressed the seal down on top of it. He let it cool for about a minute before pulling the seal away, leaving a perfect replica of the stamp on the paper.
He blew out the candle and carefully folded The Marriage Pact in thirds. After putting everything back as it had been, he peeked out the door. When he found the hallway clear, Drew sprinted through the palace halls until he reached his bedroom. He set the document on his desk. I’ll find the perfect hiding spot for it tomorrow.
Once he’d brushed his teeth and changed into his pajamas, Drew hopped into bed. As he pulled the covers up to his chin, he couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across his face. It may not have been the prettiest document in existence, but The Marriage Pact he’d made with Bri was as legal as he could possibly make it. And the pinky promise on top of it all sealed the deal. If they took anything seriously, it was their love of sweet tea and the sacredness of their pinky promises.
That night, he fell asleep with only one thought on his mind: One day, I’m going to marry Brielle Margaret Elizabeth Clairmont.