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astroph1les · 9 months

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this love | chapter one [h.c]

summary: your prince suitors have been driving you insane. after a scene you make at a ball, the king and queen have decided to put their foot down and have a knight look after you. knight meets princess. princess has conflicting thoughts about knight.

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: isabel being the sweetest girl, lonely princess who is misunderstood, knight!hazel, charming!hazel, king and queen are not the best and it won’t get better from here ://, hazel is readers gay awakening (real.), no y/n!

word count: 4.7K

a/n: everything will kind of start next chapter with hazel and reader’s beginning dynamic. this is just introducing how shitty the reader is treated and the royals beliefs.

The royal life.

The poor desired what came with royalty. Wealth, status, comfortability, security, love, and even. Whatever that may be. You envied those who weren’t a part of this life.

The corset underneath your, while stunning, uncomfortable gown suffocated you while you danced with yet another new suitor who had traveled across the seas to Rockridge Palace. Prince Jeffery Williams had been the sixth — hopefully final— prince to attend yet another one of these balls that the king and queen insisted they throw for you and your suitor to get to know one another.

Prince Jeffrey would not stop talking about himself as you slow danced and it was driving you up the wall. He was somehow incredibly louder in volume than the live orchestra.

On top of his ability to talk about all of his successes, which you were sure were entirely made up, he had wandering eyes… and hands. You shouldn’t have had to move his hands from below your hip back up to your waist as many times as you did.

After the third time and disgustingly cocky smirk, you had enough. Out of impulse, you raised your foot to slam it down onto his boot-covered one. Jeffrey let out a squeal that made you smile to yourself but quickly put on a feigned expression.

“Oh dear, Prince Jeffrey. I-I must have two left feet.” You place a hand over your heart, gasping as if you didn’t deliberately harm him.

Prince Jeffrey folded over to hold onto his now throbbing foot, face turning a beat red as he forced out a chuckle. Every other maiden and man that surrounded you both had stopped their dancing to stare and gape at the scene.

“I feel faint. I must go lie down.” Prince Jeffrey excused himself, smoothing down the front of his deep navy blue tailcoat. “Until we meet again, Princess.”

“Until then.” You bow with the fakest of smiles before clearing your throat.

Jeffrey scurried away to his guest room in the palace, his own personal guard following right behind. The music resumed, much louder than before as you locked eyes with your mother from across the grand room conversing with Jeffrey's mother.

You could feel her anger radiating through her heavy breathing and sudden excusing herself from the queen of Jeffrey’s kingdom. Other townspeople moved themselves out of the way as your mother swiftly made her way towards you.

There was a slight chance you may have gone a tad far with the aggression.

“Oh, sweet pea,” your mother sing-songs as she approaches you, hands folded elegantly in front of her torso, “Is it time for bed then?”

You knew there was a hint of anger laced in her sickenly sweet words. It wasn’t to fool you, though, but the surrounding guests. There was no fighting her, at least, at that very moment.

“Mother, I do feel quite drowsy. Would it be alright to head to bed?” You plaster on the same faux smile, sucking in a deep breath.

“I would highly suggest it. Now, go on then. I must tell these disappointed guests that the ball must come to an end.” Her smile unknowingly dropped as she ended her sentence.

You nod your heavy head, turning on your heels to make your way out of the grand ballroom to your bedroom. As you keep your head down to avoid the wandering eyes and whispers of: ‘Where’s the princess going?’ and ‘What happened with Prince Jeffrey?’. You hear footsteps trailing behind you, turning your head slightly to see the one person who could stand to be around in this entire palace.

“What did Prince Jeffrey do?” Isabel, your handmaiden and only friend, questions who as she sped up to walk side-by-side with you.

You sigh, retracting the groan that was threatening to escape.

“He was a conceited and handsy idiot just like Walter, Arthur, Abraham, Edmund, and Bennett. I couldn’t stand him, Isabel. They are quite literally all the same.”

Isabel visibly frowns, nodding along to your words. You tilt your head up to glance at the dulled hallways of the palace. Paintings of your family line hung up along the velvet red walls — four-time great-grandparents in order down to you and your elder sister; Moira.

“Well, this has already been the sixth suitor. The King and Queen already said that you had to decide by your twentieth.” Isabel carefully reminded you, fiddling with the string of the front of her simple yet beautifully fitting dress.

“That’s just it. I don’t have any desire to marry. Especially to men like that.” You seethed, approaching your high bedroom doors.

The divine vine and floral gold design decorate the dark wood. You wrapped your fingers around the handle to tug it open, grunting softly at how heavy the door was. Isabel quickly rushed to your aid, pulling the door backward. You thanked her quietly before marching into your room.

“Is there anything I can do?” Isabel kindly asked you, only wanting to make sure you were feeling okay.

“If you could just help me get out of this ridiculous dress.” You let out a groan which caused the green-eyed woman to chuckle.

“Of course, princess.” Her tone was teasing as she approached you from behind to begin undoing the laces that were keeping the corset tight on your aching body.

You huff out a soft laugh at the words as you insisted multiple times that you hated being addressed as Princess by the maidens, knights, guards, and kitchen staff that lived in the palace. Especially Isabel. She was more than just your handmaiden and personal attendant, she was your friend that you cared for.

Once she unraveled the last lace, you breathed correctly for the first time since your mother and the other maidens forced you into the constricting dress. She patted your tense back with a sigh.

“Better?”

Nodding through a soft pant, you say: “Incredibly.”

You both chuckle as you gradually sit on your large mattress.

“Anything else you may need?” Isabel questions as she stands next to you on the bed, torso meeting your temple.

Your eyes soften at her question, calming down as you take in a deep breath. You take her soft hands in yours, shaking your head.

“You’re too kind to me, Bel. I think I should just lie down now. You should rest as well before I have to endure whatever my parents will say tomorrow.” You nod, your voice is equally as gentle to her.

Isabel nodded, not having much more to add to the conversation. It was now entirely too late for either of you. The sun had been set since the ball began, the darkness taking over the once bright blue sky.

“Well, we’ll speak more in the morning.” Isabel nodded curtly, giving your hands a single squeeze.

“First thing.” You nod, releasing her hands.

Sharing one more smile, you watch as she leaves your grand room. A lonely feeling settles in your chest as you begin to undress for the night. You knew in the morning you were going to endure your mother and father’s scolding and lectures about how to not ‘embarrass their lineage’ and how ‘childish’ you were.

If you were silent enough and held your breath, you could hear the voices from the ballroom; disappointed and angry with the event ending early. Maybe you had gone too far this time with Prince Jeffrey.

No, he was not appealing by any means.

Left in your slip dress, you slowly crawl underneath the silky sheets covering your large mattress. Once your head laid down on the sheets, you fell into a familiar exhausted slumber.

You were awoken from an empty dream by the morning horns, the sun's rays beaming in through the tall windows near your bed. You sat up quickly, pushing your frizzy hair out of your face.

Without any sort of warning, you hear your bedroom door swing open. Following in were three of your usual maidens who helped you get ready in the morning. Isabel then trailed in soon after, flashing you a quick smile as you appeared extremely tired.

“Morning, princess.” All three of the maidens speak in unison causing you to quickly put on that fake persona.

“Morning, Mildred,” you nod towards Mildred; tall and blonde. “Vivian,” her baby face and dark skin shine as she bows. “Beth.” Her fiery hair shone in the sunlight as she, too, bowed in respect towards you.

“The king and queen have called you in to share some crucial news in the throne room,” Mildred speaks up, eyes boring into yours.

Your brows furrow immediately at the different choice of words. After incidents like last night, it would be the same from either of the girls: “The king and queen are requesting your presence.”

News? What news could there possibly be?

“Well, I should get dressed then. Can’t have them waiting too long.” You nod slowly, removing your now warm bed sheets from your body.

Isabel rushed to your wardrobe as Beth scurried to your side to help you out of bed.

You were exceptionally privileged and you were aware of it. Especially in these instances where you could easily dress yourself and make up your room but the maidens did it for you. It makes you feel lazy and useless.

“This dress should be perfect. Not too tight around the waist and flattering.” Isabel approached you with said dress in the palms of her hands, grinning kindly.

You trusted her so you thanked her quietly, allowing them to take over.

Within minutes, your tossed sheets were made finely by Mildred and Vivian. Isabel and Beth helped you into the dress, making sure your undergarments were hidden by the other fabrics.

The fit was quite pleasant, you must admit. The front was a bit lower than you had thought but you had rarely been so comfortable in your wardrobe without it just being those undergarments.

Your natural hair flowed down and over your shoulders, a black ribbon tied to keep half of it out of your face. A few flyways escaped but you enjoyed how it frames your face. The girls clamored around you, hands on every part of your dress to smooth out wrinkles.

God forbid the princess appear imperfect in any way.

Once they had finished getting you ready, they left the room, leaving you and Isabel to walk down the beautifully decorated halls to make your way to where your presence was requested.

“Do you have any idea what this news could be?” You mutter softly, eyes locked on Isabel’s side profile.

“I’m not sure if it’s true but apparently in the late of the night, the king and queen discussed assigning a knight to look over you,” Isabel whispered as her eyes darted to the line of knights that were passing by the two of you.

The metal clanked as they walked in an orderly fashion. You assumed it was for training as they tended to take about two hours to train before standing in their assigned places around the castle.

“Look over me?” You asked in disbelief.

You weren’t a toddler that needed to be looked after. You already felt your blood boiling as you were approaching the grand archway of the throne room.

“That was all I heard passing by Linda and Nina in the kitchen this morning.” Isabel quickly whispered.

Linda and Nina were older women in the kitchen who, although talented in the kitchen, gossiped about you constantly. You assumed it was jealousy of either your title or your youth.

Your eyes darted from the high marble archways to the gold-lined thrones that sat both of your parents. Your attitude was already set in place as you walked up just a few feet from them. The stomping of your everyday flats echoed against the floors, revealing how irritated you already were.

“Father—“ You began with annoyance laced in your tone.

“No!” His deep voice echoed, cutting you off as he slammed down his staff.

Out of the corner of your eye, Isabel flinched at the loud sound. Your breathing was heavy as you maintained eye contact with your father. He didn't scare you as he did his overly dramatic actions.

It only increased the amount of hatred you had towards him. Your mother remained silent, glancing at your father before flickering her eyes back to you.

“I am going to talk. You are going to listen and not interrupt me. I have had it with this… humiliating attitude you’ve decided to put on.” Your father seethed, a vein on his neck protruding. “Prince Jeffrey is a guest in our kingdom and you embarrassed him. This temper is childish. You will be twenty by mid-July and you’re behaving this way. Moira had not been so stubborn about her suitors as you have.”

You felt your nostrils flare as of course, he was blaming you for the way Prince Jeffrey had reacted last night. It was never a man's fault, no. Only you and your temper. Throwing you and your elder sister’s differences in your face as well wasn’t unheard of.

“You must formally apologize to both Jeffrey and the Queen effective immediately.” Your mother intervened, her tone rather calm in comparison to your father.

You remained silent, simply nodding to her words. There was no point in arguing as you knew they were going to shut you down. You watched as your parents exchanged a look before shifting in their thrones.

“Now, because of your rather upsetting actions the night prior, your mother and I have chosen a knight to make sure this doesn’t happen again.” Your father sucked in a deep breath before continuing his words. “Dame Callahan will be your knight.”

Your eyes narrowed as you heard ‘dame’ instead of ‘sir’. There were very few knights that were women so you were automatically expecting there to be a man. You knew of Sir Callahan as he was a noble knight that you’ve known since you were a child but not Dame Callahan.

“Sir Callahan has a daughter?” You question, folding your hands in front of you.

This was certainly news to you. You weren’t even aware that he had a wife to begin with, let alone a secret daughter.

“Indeed. Now, she’s only had her knight status for a year but hopefully, you’ll adapt to her professionalism. Learn from her.” Your mother answers, her brows raising at you accusingly. “She should be arriving any minute now.”

As if right on cue, you hear the horns from the guards outside echo faintly. You turn your neck to glance at the hallway that leads to the main entryway doors.

“Well,” your father cleared his throat, “Let’s go and properly greet them, yes?”

Your eyes locked with Isabel who was already peering down the hallway where you all were headed. You approach her with a forced grin, locking your arm with hers as you take your time walking towards the grand entrance. Her eyes soften as she knows you are feeling a range of emotions about this whole arrangement.

“How are you doing?” Isabel hums, trying to keep quiet as the king and queen are just a foot behind you two.

“Other than absolutely infuriated,” you suck in a deep breath, tilting your head at the freckled woman, “Alright.”

Isabel nods, not knowing what to do now. You knew you were being short but you didn't want to say something you didn't mean out of anger towards the kind woman. You simply pressed your head to hers gently to show you were listening.

“I’m sure Dame Callahan won’t be as difficult as your parents are.” Isabel sighs, keeping her volume quiet. “You might even like her. Make a new friend that isn’t me.”

You gape at her words, nudging her with your hip as you both chuckle to yourselves. You cherish these fleeting moments of joy, holding onto them to keep for your worser days.

“What are you insinuating?”

“Nothing.” Isabel shook her head, her laughter fading as the front door guards were now holding the heavy wood open.

You glanced at Isabel once more before releasing her arm to walk past the guards in their uniforms of the castle's flag colors, watching as they bowed as you and your parents passed by. You nod in response before stepping out on the open staircase, the sun’s beams burning into your skin.

Rounding the corner of the gates was a person on a dark brown horse — borderline black. You feel Isabel’s tense presence along with your father’s looming figure and your mother’s petite one.

You fixed your posture, taking in one deep breath as you awaited her arrival.

“Oh, sweet pea, this dress was not the most appropriate choice.” You hear your mother utter as she judgingly ranks her eyes up and down your frame.

“I can’t change now, Mother, so it’ll have to do.” You snarkily replied, eyes locked ahead of you.

You didn't have to be facing your mother to know she did not appreciate your response. Letting it go for now, you, your parents, and Isabel begin to wave at who you assumed to be Dame Callahan. The stranger knight tugs on the maritangle causing the horse to stop in its tracks right in front of the impressive stone steps.

Callahan begins to make her way up the steps, giving you a better look at her.

It had to have just been you, but you took in how perfect her skin appeared as she grew closer. You could feel Isabel’s eyes burning into the side of your head, clearly waiting for some sort of reaction to Dame Callahan.

First, she greeted both of your parents addressing them with their assigned greetings. Her voice was velvety, charming almost. You waited patiently for her to greet you, hands flexing anxiously by your sides. She didn't appear knight-like as all she was wearing were a pair of black boots, a simple commoner-appearing outfit, and a leather belt that held her sword in that same leather material.

“Princess,” she addresses you before kneeling on one knee, gingerly taking her hand in her gloved one. You tense as she leans her head forward to place her lips on the back of your hand.

Her eyes peer up at you, her dark lashes highlighting her alluring blue eyes. You hadn’t uttered a word yet, completely forgetting all the words you’ve ever known. Dame Callahan releases your hand once she notices how eerily still you’ve become.

“Princess, I’ve heard a lot of things about you,” Callahan speaks again, adjusting the belt on her waist to respectfully smile at you.

Has she already let go of your hand? You thought to yourself. You feel a sharp bone drive into your lower back which causes you to inhale, becoming aware of what was going on. You caress the hand that she had kissed before holding your hands in front of your hips.

“I hope they were all good things.” You reply, regaining your proper posture.

“Yes,” Dame Callahan replies, a small chuckle leaving her lips. “Though, they surely forgot to mention your beauty.”

You blink. Did she just compliment you? It could be an out-of-respect situation. Kissing up to you as you were certain that your parents weren’t that kind with informing Dame Callahan about being assigned to you.

“Oh, well,” you nod, feeling out of your own body. “Thank you, Dame Callahan.”

“Of course, Princess.” She, again, responds with such a poised attitude.

You were feeling extremely conflicted about Dame Callahan. A part of you wanted to get to know her; starting with her first name. Another part was admiring her side profile as she spoke to your father and mother. Why were you admiring her in the first place? You weren’t entirely sure.

“Well, Dame Callahan could settle into her new manor as we prepare the welcome lunch.” Your mother spoke up which caught your attention. “Sweet pea?”

You blink and turn to your mother to see her waiting impatiently for you to say something. Dame Callahan’s head was tilted with furrowed brows as you seemed to be zoning in and out of the conversation.

“Oh! Right! I can show you where you’ll be staying.” You send Dame Callahan a short grin, afraid to stare at her for too long.

The new knight nodded, respectfully bowing at both of your parents and Isabel before stepping to the side to allow you to go first. You begin to make your way down the steps as the manor for the knight's living space is a tower away from the main palace. The hot sun beeped down on your skin, a cool spring breeze brushing past your flowing hair.

The whole walk to the manor was eerily quiet. Neither you nor Dame Callahan were making any form of small talk. All you could hear were the horses huffing a few feet away in the stables, the clinking of metal from the other knights in uniform, and the chirping of the birds in the surrounding trees.

Your shoulders brushed for a mere second as she walked alongside you. You could see from your peripheral stealing glances at you like she wanted to say something but not uttering a word. To be fair, you were doing the same thing.

As you approach the large wooden door, you turn to her as you pause right in front of the entryway. She, too, pauses her steps with you, eyes locking on your face.

Why was her stare burning into you more than the sun? It felt so intense.

“This is the knight’s manor. I will see you around the lunch hour then.” You say.

Out of fear of flushing in her presence, you avoid pouring your eyes into her bright ones.

Dame Callahan nods, and a crinkle between her brows forms. “Is everything alright, princess?”

“Yes, of course. I think I’m just hungry.” You nod slowly, a nervous smile forming on your face.

Could she see right through you? It sure seemed like it. Callahan simply nods, knowing better than to press on such a matter, especially with a princess.

“Right, yes. I’ll just…” She trailed off, pointing to the door.

Your eyes followed her finger before a wave of embarrassment washed over you. A nervous laugh left your lips before nodding and waving your hand towards the door.

“Until lunch then.”

Dame Callahan’s lips quipped into a smile that seemed endearing. She placed a hand on the iron ring and tugged the door open. She bowed ever so slightly.

“Until then, princess.”

The door shut with a loud clunk, flinching at the sudden noise. For the rest of the morning, all you could think about was the way she said ‘princess’ towards you.

Lunch-time arrived in the middle of an etiquette lesson with Mrs. DuBois. The bells went off causing you instantly slouch in your seat. Your back was killing you from how aligned you were forcing onto yourself.

“We’ll continue this lesson tomorrow.” Mrs. DuBois sharply tapped at your back to get you to straighten your posture. “Though, I do not understand the point of this. You slouch so much, you are becoming a hunchback, princess.”

You send her a tight-lipped grin as you smooth down your dress. Isabel was waiting patiently for you in the corner of the room so she could walk you out.

“Lunch calls.” You force a laugh out.

Mrs. DuBois, unamused, nods before turning her back towards you and Isabel. You frown at her obvious attitude before motioning with your head towards the door. Isabel got the hint and gave Mrs. DuBois a quick goodbye.

Once they were out into the hallway, you began to chuckle with Isabel at how stuck-up Mrs.DuBois was.

“She said I have a hunchback, Bel. How dramatic is that?” You scoff, shaking your head.

“I swear, she’s never once felt an ounce of joy in her entire life.” Isabel added on, rounding the corner.

You two are giggling when you walk into the enormous dining hall. You could smell the delicious stew the staff had cooked for you all. You caught sight of Dame Callahan already sitting at the elongated table.

Right in front of your seat next to your mother.

“She’s sitting right across from me.” You slow down your feet, growing anxious to approach the table.

Isabel furrowed her brows, following your eyes to see Dame Callahan already conversing with your mother. Unable to comprehend what was wrong about that, she asks: “Is that bad?”

“No. Not necessarily. Just…” You trail off as you approach the table with Isabel.

You couldn’t even think of a valid excuse for how you felt about her place at the table. Why was she doing this to your mind? Maybe it was the thought that from this point forward, she was going to be quite literally around every corner, near you around the clock from dusk to dawn.

Sure, Isabel was already that but she had been around you for years. Dame Callahan was new and a stranger.

“Oh! Sweet pea, we were just discussing what exactly Dame Callahan will be doing whilst being your knight.” Your mother looked over at the intimidating knight, an overly friendly smile on her face.

You glance at your mother before taking your place right next to your father, Isabel sitting on the other side of you. All of the bowls of steaming hot beef stew thankfully distracted you as you patiently waited for your father to signal that it was okay to eat.

By that, you meant ‘the king always eats first.’ Once he took his first sip, you began to dig in shamelessly.

“So, Dame Callahan,” your father started, voice deep and booming.

“Yes, sir?” She perked up, eyes wide with patience.

“Your father never mentioned your name.” He plainly stated.

You, too, were curious about her first name, eyes darting over to her sharp features that were highlighted by the sun peeking in through the large windows. Her eyes flickered to you, strangely enough, before uttering her name.

“Hazel, your majesty.” She nodded, a smile forming on her perfectly pink lips.

Hazel. It suited her, you thought. Its simplicity was beautiful.

“It’s a lovely name.” You confess, sending her the least awkward smile you could muster.

Hazel’s eyes locked with yours. Her smile matched yours; genuine and kind.

“Thank you, princess.”

You break eye contact first, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of her stare. You continue eating, eyes dancing from person to person as they add to the conversation. After everyone listened to how Hazel’s journey was to the kingdom, it was around the same time that everyone was finishing up their bread and stew.

“Well, I believe this is the first time you’ve not spoken during a feast,” your father speaks up, eyes locking on yours.

“I don’t have much to say, father.” You quip.

“You’re not always that way, sadly enough.” His tone was quite obviously degrading and meant to humiliate you.

You prod your tongue into the inside of your cheek, wondering why he was starting this right now. Hazel had just arrived and he was already trying to pick a fight with you.

“Oh, your majesty, it’s alright. I think I’ve talked enough for now,” Hazel quickly buts in.

You glance at her, furrowing your brows at her unexpectedly. She was looking directly at your father for just a moment before sending you a soft look.Your father hadn’t replied back to Hazel’s quick words but you feared he might. You straighten your back and clear your throat as you stand up, smoothing down your dress

“I’m feeling full now. May I leave the dining table?” You stare expectantly at your parents, hoping they would just let you this one time.

Your mother simply nods as you turn to Isabel who had already finished her meal. She took that as a hint to leave as well, nodding respectfully towards your parents and Hazel. Her familiar arms lock with yours as you walk down the hallway to venture to your room.

“She seems nice.” Isabel spoke first, looking at you for confirmation that you felt that same way.

You didn’t know what to feel.

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