Tharja Mamoru Arranged Marriage

[vivalamorte]

"You're getting married."

Mamoru spent most of the next three days processing that one simple phrase. He understood the reason, of course. Six years back with his grandfather. No love life to speak of in that entire time. No other living family... he was concerned about the line. Mamoru knew his grandfather was aging rapidly. Most likely, he wanted to secure the succession for his own peace of mind. He certainly had little reason for confidence that it would happen naturally.

Mamoru didn't protest or complain about the announcement. Still, it was a discomforting thought. There was a reason he hadn't pursued a relationship until now-- several reasons if he were to be honest. He didn't know how he was supposed to overcome those obstacles now just because the motion was being forced.

He went about his daily business as much as possible. The idea slipped from the forefront of his mind under a barrage of more immediately pressing matters. He told no one. Then, before he knew it, he was scheduled to meet her.

Mamoru straightened his tie in the backseat of his ride before giving it a small tug in hopes of loosening it a little; it felt tight about his throat. No doubt the media was going to be all over this once word got out, just as it had been as he debuted onto the political scene in the footsteps of his presumed father, Reiji. Questions of his position on current events and policies, on whether he aimed to go all the way to the Prime Minister's seat as Reiji had.

He was not looking forward to that explosion of public attention. Current events and policies he could at least sound informed about. What was he going to say about his future bride? As yet, Mamoru knew little about the young woman to whom he was affianced. An ambassador's daughter whose appearance recommended her as well as her status was all he'd been told. Mamoru would have preferred knowing something about her interests or personality, but it seemed he'd be flying blind in that regard. He would just have to hope he could keep the conversation more about her. He wasn't particularly keen to divulge much about himself anyway.

Well, it wasn't as though he had no practice putting on a good face to strangers. The sleek black sedan pulled to a stop in front of the Ritz-Carlton in Tokyo Midtown, which housed Azure 45, heralded as one of the best restaurants in the country. A valet opened the door to the car to let him out and escorted him to the private dining room overlooking a gorgeous cityscape.

Truth be told, it was all entirely too fancy for him. The chandelier of metallic bubbles, the menu of items most people wouldn't even be able to pronounce, the three-piece suit and polished shoes that pinched his feet. Given the choice, he would have opted for a quaint café by a park with a walking trail.

Then again, choice wasn't really the name of the game here, was it? Of course two young members of the upper crust would be at a place like this instead. Mamoru was a good twenty minutes early, so he seated himself at the window end of the entirely too large table and skimmed the wine menu while he waited.

Hidden beneath his coat at his beltline, he kept a small case with four slender darts. Mamoru had a new name, a new home, a new family, and a new career, but some habits never changed.

Comments

[yaydanger]

Tharja had been severely tempted to kill her parents in order to get out of this 'business arrangement', but that would mean she might inherit their work, or she could go to prison - either one was a displeasing thought. How annoying. This whole thing was annoying. Though her face remained stoic on the drive over, those who knew her or were paying close attention might notice the twitch her upper lip was developing - as if a trained attack dog was suppressing the urge to rip out its enemy's throat.

Maybe she could kill her supposed fiance... No, what would stop her family from simply finding another poor soul? Gods above, if they wanted her to settle so down, they could at least have given her some choice in the matter. It was a small secret that she had a romantic side - she wanted to find true love, a soul mate, someone she was bound to eternally - but if someone actually found that out, she'd deny it. No need to ruin her reputation, what little she had of it.

When the car came to a stop and the driver announced their arrival, she merely nodded, lost in her own thoughts. Maybe she could poison this person slowly... Just keep them weak enough to stay out of her way and never take her to bed. Or maybe, and this wasn't too far-fetched as far as she was concerned, he'd reject her as soon as he knew her. She knew she wasn't a sociable or even likable person. Sometimes that hurt, sometimes it didn't. You couldn't change a person so easily, and she doubted she ever would.

Two guards escorted her out of the car and into the building, and she couldn't resist rolling her eyes. As if these pathetic goons would stand a chance against a fully trained killer. The fake jewelry she was wearing would do a much better job - the pearls around her wrists, the ruby necklace dangling above her exposed cleavage, the tiny earrings embedded in her earlobes - all of them fake, all of them filled with deadly chemicals. All she had to do was break them open, or even just throw them, and anyone who wished her harm would suffer before death.

Just the idea of that was enough to make her crack a small, temporary smile. She distracted herself with that cathartic imagery as she was led into the table, and finally she was forced to look at him.

... If he'd lift his eyes from the menu.

A proper, polite ambassador's daughter would have demurely said "Excuse me, would you be... Mamoru Takatori...?"

Tharja just snapped. "Hey. You."