#but yes! they export a lot of their fruit & cheese out !

[bronzebtch]

headcanon + valemen and what they eat — the vale's main cuisines are ... cheese. and more cheese. and a bit more cheese. in their defence, their cheese are cultivated from goat, sheep, cow (and for some lucky farmers, even buffalos) alike, and they're very good with experimenting w/ the process of it so they have many types of cheese cuisine. to compare to our world, it would create dishes like tartiflette, croziflette, fondue etc. they also have a healthy crop of potatoes, some wheat, fresh games and produce alike ( mostly meat ), mushroom, and so much fruits of berries! and though they do have a port, more than likely, many of their seafood are still imported from elsewhere. many valesmen do not actually like seafood all that much, rhea herself included.

[shmowder]

I have some more dessert headcanons 🍰 I doubt I can explain but it's just a feeling I have. Daniil would like Turkish Delight. Lara and Artemy both like fruit pies, best is blueberry for Lara and rhubarb (it's a vegetable but whatever) for Artemy (oh god I'm stereotyping based on colors again). Candy corn for Clara. Candy corn is divisive but I actually like it. I think Grief would like candy in general, maybe those little chocolates with liquor inside, and cinnamon flavored things. Big Vlad - mincemeat pie. Rubin - bread. Just bread. Red velvet cake for Katerina, meringues for Eva. For Aspity, those dirt pies made out of oreo crumbs, pudding, and gummy worms lol. I think Grace, Notkin, Sticky, and Murky would like those too :o)

There's probably some obscure dialogue that contradicts something there but oh well~

What do you think of Victor's animal being a tiger? I keep thinking Basset Hound and yes that's almost entirely because they both have a high likelihood of being found sitting on the floor by the clock. He's some kind of scent hound to me - more calm and deliberate than sighthounds, and once they have their mind set on something, focusing on it to the extent that it's nearly impossible to pull them away. But at the same time, I can sort of see the cat thing.

🐿️ anon

Your brain is big and wrinkly all of those fit perfectly omfg. "Rubin = bread" I LOVE IT.

Here's what I think their preference in sweets would be in addition to yours.

Eva

Turkish delight, Honey soaked rose baklava, kanafeh with sweer syrups. The intensely sweet desserts are her favourite, think heavy caramel chocolate cakes. She'd sample a lot of desserts from different cultures but those would be her comfort ones.

Victor Kain

The dishes he eats are an acquired taste that wouldn't appeal to most people. Think blue cheese and something along those lines. think bitter chocolate, coffee, and pistachio flavours. Traditional creme burlee and dark chocolate mousse.

I like to think that Khan abhors these flavours and desserts out of rebellion and only demands the most sprinkle filled bubblegum bonbon cupcakes for his birthday.

Maria, however, goes for flavour-rich desserts that explode in the mouth, something with a heavy taste and an aftermath of wine.

Yulia

Cheesecake, lemon tarts. Subtle sweetness with the spin of something different sate her appetit the most. French Vanilla chiffon cake for special occasions, a blueberry muffin with her morning light cream cappuccino.

Rubin

He's absolutely not a dessert person, so when the craving strikes, he would rather go for a baked good. Almond bread, rosemary-walnut brow butter cookies and biscuits, English muffins too.

Taya

Fairy bread cookies, strawberry shortcake, and orange puddings. Fruit based desserts with cream are her favourite. Peach pie and cherry jello. Sadly, most of these would only be found in the Capital, and exporting them into the town wouldn't come easily. The kin might adjust their recipies to accommodate her sweet tooth and include more fresh fruits.

--

For Victor's animal, I was surprised to learn it's the same one as Rubin! They both have tiger in their descriptions. Especially when Khan's animal is an adorable hedgehog. Oh my god, so cute. But it fits. He really does go hide in that spiky polyhedron whenever life gets too troubling. He also has the Kains and Capella ready to protect him.

It's because of Victor's animal being a tiger that I add the "predatory" lines in the story. The sharp claws hidden in his clapsed hands.

He's a tiger in the aspect of the danger rather than the ferality. His mind is as sharp as a tiger's tooth and his focus and patience when hunting a prey or a goal is unmatched. You never expect him or hear him, how he'll as stealthy as a tiger when it comes to mind games.

For Rubin, however, I do see the symbolism centring on the ferality instead. He's like a caged tiger, one with filed down claws and broken teeth. He used to be so sharp and had so much potential. He's truly a force to be reckon with, but the cruelty of life stole away his prime. He's overcome with grief and appears as a docile, tired predetor because of it, like a circus tiger not caring anymore and just jumping through the fire hoops of whoever orders him to. Which is why he is so quick to join the army, he needs a purpose, a mentor, an end goal, a firey ring to make him feel useful because nothing is more terrifying to an imprisoned animal than absolute freedom.

[ourplaceinthecosmosphff]

Chapter 29. Borrowed Time

‘Harder days are coming. The loan of borrowed time will be due on the horizon. (...)’ - Ingeborg Bachmann

The most northern village in Savoy was Valois-Narcisse, so small that it wasn’t actually reachable by any form of public transportation. Not a lot of people in Savoy even knew Valois-Narcisse by name; Bayona, on the East Coast, was the closest reference point, a beach village considered an under-rated touristic spot. Historically, Valois-Narcisse was populated by sheep and eggplant farmers, not a very sexy niche, and it was still how the village’s only export to local and regional farmer’s markets.

For the following few weeks after Ascot, every time Harry tried to talk about it, his phone corrected the name to ‘value narcissism’, so by the time I drove past the small, rusted iron sign that read its name, I couldn’t help but smile.

One of the reasons Valois-Narcisse was so abandoned was that it was mostly situated up a mountain. Not at the top of the mountain, exactly, although parts of it were. The village just stretched along the mountain, with most of its commerce and eateries, however scarce, down below, and the houses built towards the top, including a couple of small hostels and, lucky for us, one very odd Airbnb.

The houses, bridges and streets were all built of stone and wood, with wildflowers and weeds growing in between, and across the mountain, beyond the village, stood the vast, beautiful Celtic Sea. On days of low tide, locals swore they could see the outline of the Irish coast on the horizon, at least according to the description on Airbnb.

But even if that was an exaggeration, we wouldn’t have cared, because what drew Harry and I to Valois-Narcisse that weekend was how desolate and empty it was. Paparazzi wouldn’t dream of finding us there, so it was there that we scheduled our first getaway. Our first secret rendezvous. Or, as Harry kept reminding me, our first date.

We had been texting non-stop since I left his house after Ascot, about what happened, and also about all things around us, what we were doing or not, and a lot of nothing. It was over text that we made the plans to meet in Vallois-Narcisse for the first time since getting together, it was over text that we discussed the latest of the Adrien saga (he’d been seen out in a club with the singer-girlfriend and their friends), and it was over text that he informed me that since we never got to go on our date the previous year, during our weekend in Vallois-Narcisse, he was going to pull all the stops to ‘take me out’’.

“Are we going out for dinner?” I asked, in our Airbnb, while I got ready in the middle of the afternoon.

“Not really.” He replied, from the small sitting room right outside our suite. “And stop trying to guess, just get ready.”

He had refused to tell me anything about the date, claiming it was supposed to be as real as the real one would have been and in the real one, it would have been a surprise.

“It’s very hard to get ready when I don’t know what we’re doing.” I sighed. “How casual am I supposed to look?”

“Casual.” He replied, unhelpful. “Maybe wear sneakers.”

“Well, that’s one decision off my conscience.” I mumbled to myself, staring at my options laid out in the bed, my small suitcase open on the floor.

I had chosen a preppy, plaid short skirt in shades of white and blue, and I had all the tops I had brought in the bed as possible options. For shoes, I removed the flats from the lineup, and put on my white Nike’s, turning around to look at the tops again.

“Are you ready? It’s time.” Harry called from the other room.

“Just–! Just give me ten minutes!” I shouted back, nervously.

I realized how ridiculous it was. It was just a gesture – a sweet, romantic, gesture – to have a first date when we had already slept together more than once. More than twice. The previous night, for instance. It made no sense, it was just sweet. So there was no reason to be nervous, and I knew that. Rationally, I knew that.

Still, as I looked at the clothes I brought, I hated every single one. I threw the Jurassic Park tee back into the suitcase – too casual –, and looked at the Kimono top, a greenish blue shade, long, loose sleeves, a nice, laidback fit to contrast with the skirt. The other two options, a tight, square neckline, navy blue, crop top, and a loose, green, blouse with spaghetti sleeves, both matched the skirt and were casual enough, but seemed more appropriate for the weather.

“…It’s been ten minutes.” Harry’s voice came back from the other room, patiently cautious.

“Coming!”

In one panicked move, I grabbed the green, strappy blouse and put it on. I rushed to the bathroom and quickly applied some tinted sunblock to my face. I wanted to apply actual makeup, but convinced myself it was silly. He’d seen me without makeup many times already. It wasn’t a real first date, no matter how big the knot on my stomach was, so I just grabbed a pair of earrings, my every-day necklace, and sunglasses, and burst through the door in a hurry, ready to run as if we had an actual reservation, even though I was perfectly aware that no restaurant in this village town worked like that.

“Okay, I’m ready, let’s go!” I said, looking at him, who startled up from the couch and looked me up and down, appreciatively.

“Mary, wow.” He smiled, slowly, approaching me with careful steps. “You look…”

“What are you doing?!” I laughed, blushing. “You saw me five minutes ago. I look the same. I just put on a different, very casual, outfit.”

“Will you just pretend with me? Please?” He sighed, rolling his eyes. “We never got to have our first date, just… let’s just pretend we’re a normal couple today.”

I shook my head, grinning. “…Fine.”

He took another step towards me and, from seemingly thin air, produced a white daisy.

I sighed. I wanted to say ‘really?’, but I bit down my sarcasm, and took my flower.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful!” I said, adding a little more emotion than necessary.

He sighed heavily, making me laugh. “Come on, ma’am, we have a date.”

“Yes, sir.”

Our Airbnb was in a secluded property at the end of a dead-end granite driveway off of the main road. Instead of taking that direction, however, we walked towards the hike trail in the opposite direction. I wanted to ask what was on the huge backpack he’d brought, but I knew he was just waiting for the opportunity to tell me it was a surprise, so I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

He announced we had arrived when we reached a clearing amongst the trees. The grass and weeds were a little high, but nothing that made it impossible for us to sit down and enjoy ourselves. Especially because, as I soon discovered, Harry had a picnic blanket in his backpack. Because Harry had a whole picnic in his backpack.

“A picnic?!” I asked, excited.

“You like picnics?” He smiled, setting the blanket down.

“I love picnics!” I said, excitedly. “Don’t go to many, because… you know, outside, not very safe.”

“Yes, I do know.” He nodded, going through his bag, “Fortunately this place has enough privacy for us.”

“How did you even know to come here?”

“I googled it.” He replied, simply.

From his bag, he took out a bottle of sparkly wine and two ceramic looking plastic plates, which he sat down at opposite ends of the blanket. He then placed two linen napkins, folded, on top, with a set of cutlery over each.

“You thought this through.” I noticed.

“Of course I did.” He shrugged, removing a piece of paper from his pocket and reading it quickly. “I do have visual aids, though.”

In his bag, he also had acrylic Tupperware with a number of cheeses, which he then laid out on a wooden board. In another container, he had brought an assortment of cut veggies with a smaller cup inside, with ranch, which he remembered was my favorite. For our main course, he dramatically revealed large sandwiches from his favorite London restaurant, perfectly packaged and cut, for easier consumption. And for dessert, there were also a number of fruits and two small pots with what looked like cheesecakes.

“This is… incredible.”

He seemed the most flattered I had ever seen him.

“Thank you!” He said, folding his note quickly.

“Can I see that?”

“What? Oh, no, it’s just a little reminder of where things go–Oh–okay.”

I walked over to him and grabbed the paper before he could return it to his pocket; it was a list of instructions on how to set up the picnic, in his own handwriting. It even said ‘transfer cheese to wooden board’ and included a drawing of how to set up the napkins on top of the plates, with the cutlery on top of the napkins.

“This is… so sweet.” I gushed, watching him blush. “Where did you get this from?”

“I googled picnics.” He shrugged. “Well, first I googled first date ideas. Then saw the picnic idea and went on google street view to see if this place would be good for one. Then googled how to do a picnic.” He shrugged, grabbing the paper back and folding it. “Not a big deal.”

It was the way he blushed slightly and still made it sound like it wasn’t a big deal that he put in that much effort into giving us one afternoon where we could pretend we were a normal couple, untouched by tragedy. That’s what made my heart swoon for him.

I didn’t even have time to kiss him, though. He was so adamant to continue as if nothing was the problem that he just held my hand and sat down, pulling me with him.

“So…” He started, smiling. “So good that we are finally able to do this.”

“It is.” I agreed, amused.

“Wine?”

“Yes, please.”

“So, tell me, what is it that you do?” I laughed so loudly he reluctantly joined me.

“I’m sorry, it’s just too weird.”

“Come on!” He complained. “Like a normal first date, just go with it.”

“Okay, okay…” I sighed, still smiling. “What I do for a living… I… I am a lawyer.” He gave me an annoyed look. “What? If I’m talking to someone who doesn’t know what I do for a living, I’m not gonna tell them.”

“Fair. But be honest.”

I sighed. “Alright. I have a law degree from Harvard, which I’m really proud of, and I mostly have experience with copyright law… But I am not practicing right now.”

“Really? How so?”

I gave him an annoyed look this time. “I… I made a career change last year towards working on my… family business.”

He grinned. “How interesting.”

“Thank you. It’s been very rewarding.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t an easy choice to make.”

My smile faltered slightly. “It wasn’t fully my choice… But I’m happy with it, regardless.” I added, to assuage his reaction.

He nodded, silently. After a while, he added, “Are you?”

I shifted the position of my legs under me, using the time it took to think it through.

“Yes. Yes? I think so.” I shrugged. “Honestly, I haven’t really stopped to figure that out… Not exactly a priority.”

“It should be.”

I smiled. Not knowing how to change the subject, I reached out to the platter next to me and grabbed a piece of cheese.

“This is really good.” I added.

He smiled, accepting of the change of subject.

“Alright, time for you to ask something.”

“Oh. Okay… Uhm.” I finished chewing slowly as I thought about it. “Where… are you from? Originally?”

He rolled his eyes, smiling. “I’m from England.”

“Oh, really? Interesting.” I said, overly impressed. “Where in England?”

“London.” He added, grinning. “I was born and raised in Central London.”

“Fancy.” I added, appreciatively, making him chuckle. “Do you like living there?”

He considered this. “…not particularly.”

I stopped chewing. “Really?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know… I mean, I liked it, yes, in that… generic, mandatory way you always feel you must like the place you are from. Like, I will defend it if I must. But… if I had a choice, would I want to spend the rest of my life there? I’m not sure I would.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head. “Well.”

“Go on.” He said, grinning.

“Oh, I just mean… I love New York, it was one of the best experiences of my life living there for a year after law school, even if those memories are tainted with the presence of my ex… But as much as I love New York, and a lot of other places I’ve been to… coming home to Savoy is just…” I shrugged. “I don’t know, I couldn’t imagine staying away forever, you know? It’s home.”

He nodded. “I don’t know, I just don’t have that sense of attachment to England. To my family and friends, sure. But to the place? I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

We were silent for a while, eating cheese and drinking wine, and pondering over the words said. Then he perked up again, cheerily, and said,

“Tell me about your family.”

I gave the sky an eye roll. “…Fine.”

“Wow. So aggressive.” He noted, chuckling.

“Shut up.” I said. “Okay. Well, I’m the oldest of three. My brother was the middle child, but he passed away last year. He was three years younger than me and we got along really well. My sister is about eleven years younger than me, so we are not as close, though we’ve gotten a lot closer recently.”

“That’s nice to hear.” He smiled.

“My mother was born in Northern Savoy, her father is French, her mother is Savoyen. My grandfather has a property management and consultancy business, and my grandmother was always a stay-at-home mother. My mother only has one sister, Aunt Katherine, who’s now taken over my grandfather’s business, though her husband, Merlin, who is a Lord, seems to be making most of the calls. That is the root of most of the disagreements between my mother and Aunt, currently.”

“Tough.” He noted.

“Aunt Katherine has two children, Camille is the eldest, she’s been married to Hamilton Costeau for a few years, he’s a hotshot nightclub owner from the capital, and they’re expecting their first child currently. Her brother, Adam, is a freelance graphic designer, he’s married to a writer named Marcia. They’re probably my most normal relatives except that they’re wild, crazy hippies.”

He laughed. “How so?”

“They had a fully vegan wedding in a bowling alley and they live in a boat.”

He almost spit out his wine laughing. “What?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna need more information.”

“There’s not really that much more to it. To be fair, the vegan menu was actually pretty good and bowling is fun. Haven’t been bowling since, so it’s a good memory. We don’t see them a lot, because of the boat.”

“When you say boat…?”

“Not a yatch or anything like that. It’s one of those small, house boats, like in Amsterdam? Except they actually use it to sail around since they’re both freelance and can work from anywhere.”

“Honestly… that sounds great.”

“They’re cool.” I nodded. “Let’s see… on my father’s side, he has two older sisters. Marilou Bondy is in her sixties, her husband is a Vice Admiral in the navy, and they have two kids in their mid-thirties. Zaccharie, married to Amber, they have two kids who are three and five years-old. Zacc is a business manager in a shipping company, his wife has a graduate degree in Psychology, but now is a stay-at-home mom. Zacc’s sister, Heloise, is CEO of a multinational company, and her husband is a doctor. They’re by far my relatives who’ve got it together the most.”

“Sounds like it, those are some big jobs. They have kids?”

“A two year old, adorable. All my cousin’s children are. We have good genes.” He laughed. “Let me see, what else? My father’s second oldest sister, Stephanie, married a Lord of Luxembourg, uncle Ellis, so they live there. They have three kids, Josephine, Klaus, and Catarina.”

“Klaus! I know Klaus!” He said, happily, “Love Klaus. He’s fun!”

“Yes, he’s… very you.” I noted, amused. “How did you two meet, anyway?”

“Oh, he met a friend of mine during gap year, so my friend introduced us at a festival later on.”

“Of course.” I nodded. “As you know, he works for an investment firm. His youngest sister, Catarina, is twenty-three, she took a few years after school to figure it out, so she’s still finishing her degree. And the oldest, Josephine, is an interior designer, and she’s actually getting married next month, to Marius Allard, who owns a network of gyms in Luxembourg.”

“Royal wedding?” He asked.

“A small one, but yes.”

“You going?”

 “Yes.” I smiled. “Anyway. Then, there’s my father, the middle child, oldest brother, and they also have two youngest brothers. Or, had. Adrien’s father died many years ago of lymphoma, so now Adrien is next in line for the throne after Lourdes. You know him, so no need to go into it.”

“How is he doing in New York, by the way?” He asked, pouring us more wine. “I read he and the singer were seen partying in a boat?”

“For the fourth of July, yes.” I nodded. “My father and the advisors are… how can I say it? Pissed.” He chuckled. “Celebrating an American holiday, half naked, in a boat, with a bunch of celebrities, including his pink-haired girlfriend… they want him to come back.”

“Of course they do.”

“Adrien has a younger sister, Natalie, who’s my favorite.” I said, gushing. “She’s awesome, sweet, positive, always down for a good chat, though not big into parties or crowds–”

“So, the opposite of Adrien?”

“Yes.” I laughed. “Nat is getting her masters in Sorbonne, she studies literature and communications. Their mom, Princess Annette, has been a working royal for many years. Finally, my youngest uncle, Prince Albert, is also a working royal. He divorced his wife about five years ago, which was a huge scandal at the time, but we’ve managed to ride it out, and now everyone gets along fine. His ex-wife is even still a working royal, as well.”

“Woah.” He said, brows raised. “We could learn a thing or two from about how to handle divorce in a healthy way.”

“Agreed.” I said, teasing. “They have three kids. Maryanne is eighteen, currently serving her minimum military course post-graduation. Her brother James is sixteen, he’s in boarding school in Switzerland, and Sarah, who’s ten, attends the same boarding school as Lourdes… and that’s it. Unless you want to hear about my extended family, in which case we might be here a while.”

He nodded. While he digested the info-dump I’d just given him, I took the time to finish my wine and have some veggies and ranch.

“Question.” He said, unwrapping our sandwiches, “Why did you only mention two or three working royals?”

“My father’s oldest sisters lost their title upon marriage, and Aunt Stephanie lives in Luxembourg. Aunt Marilou and her husband do work sometimes, but that’s mostly because of her husband’s Admiral job. So, it’s mostly my father and his brothers who work for the Crown. Since Uncle James died, Adrien and his mom work, too, although he’s in New York now. His sister is still in school, so she’s excused. And that leaves uncle Albert and his ex-wife, and their kids are too young. There’s also some cousins of my father who are working royals, though they also have private careers.”

He nodded. “So that’s why you said you would have to become a working royal eventually.”

“Yep. That’s why a lot of the burden was already mine before, and also why I knew it would eventually be mine again. I just… I had hoped I’d have some time in-between.”

“Well,” he took the cheese platter and moved it to the side, leaning in closer to me. “You have time now.”

“I do, don’t I?” I smiled. “What should I do with it?”

“I have an idea.” He grinned, leaning in the rest of the way to touch his lips to mine.

His hand cupped my jaw as we kissed, my skin warm either from the sun or his touch. I put my glass down, mindlessly, not caring when I felt it fall to the grass. I slid my hand across his hair and laid back down, pulling him on top of me.

It was just one afternoon of borrowed time, but it was ours.

— ---- —

It was a cloudy summey day, not great weather for a royal wedding, but it would have to do because Princess Josephine Anne-Marie Elyse of Luxembourg was ready to become Mrs. Marius Allard.

Normally, we wouldn’t all go to a royal wedding just because we were royals, but we were family this time, so we arrived, my family and I, in Luxembourg two nights before. The rehearsal dinner went without a hitch, and so the following morning we got ready in our hotel and waited with other foreign family members for the shutles that would drive us to the church.

I had changed Harry’s contact on my phone to Hedwig – a name I took from Harry Potter – just in case someone saw me texting him, which was bound to happen as were texting so much more often. This didn’t stop my heart from nearly freezing when I received a photo from him. It was a mirror selfie showcasing him in his ceremony military uniform, black and red, with medals to his chest. The text read: ‘beautiful day for a wedding’.

I sighed; A few weeks prior to this, Harry had excitedly informed me during a late-night facetime call, that his family had assigned him to represent them to Josephine’s wedding.

“Why?!” I asked then, astonished.

“Ouch.” He said, sarcastic. “I’m great at weddings.”

“I’m not saying you’re not.” I said, rolling my eyes. “And of course I want to see you! But… my whole family is going to be there! Isn’t your father supposed to do these things? Or your uncle?”

“My father will be busy, my uncle was going to go, yes, but turns out his son has pneumonia so he’s staying put.” He shrugged. “And since I know Klaus, they figured I would be more familiar to the bride and groom than my brother.”

I was quiet, biting my lower lip nervously.

“What? This is good! I’m excited I get to see you all dolled up so soon!”

But I couldn’t get my excitement to match his – and I tried. It was just too risky, not to mention it felt like the day would be torture. To be near him again and have to pretend I didn’t want to hold his hand? Kiss his lips? Rip the clothes right off his body? It was too much.

Sighing, I went to the bathroom and discreetly took my own mirror selfie showcasing my light pink dress with a darker pink on a slit falling from my hips, and my large disc fascinator, and texted it to him.

‘It is unfair how perfect you look’, he replied. It made me smile, and I tried to hold on to that feeling as we rode to the church.

As family, we were close to the last group to arrive, so when I walked down the red carpeted entrance towards the church behind my parents, all I could think was that Harry must already be inside.

We trotted behind, stopping to salute the military battalion in formation under the country’s flag – a Luxembourg tradition. Military personnel saluted, civilians lowered their heads or curtsied. Since mandatory minimum service was still considered service, I saluted with my father, as mom and Lourdes curtsied.

Inside, we were ushered to the front of the church by a palace aide. Because of the odd number of seats, our parents and I were seated one row in front of Lourdes, who found herself sitting between, of all people, Adrien and Harry.

My parents greeted Adrien, who was there fresh from a plane from New York, and then looked at Harry, who received from then a curt nod before they turned to the front.

"How's...? Uhm?" I started, as my cousin kissed my cheeks.

"Sienna?" He asked, sighing. "Her name is Sienna."

"Right. Sienna."

"She's good. She's recording a new album." He replied.

"How... fortuitous." I nodded, as he took his seat again.

Before I sat down, Harry managed to give me a sneaky wink. I blushed, and turned to the front.

We seemed to be the last frontier between family and important guests, as next to Harry sat other royals and in front of us, were mostly empty seats that filled quickly after we arrived.

Just as the music started, Lourdes, who'd been chatting excitedly between Adrien and Harry, sighed loudly and stage-whispered,

"Ah, damn, I'll barely be able to see Josephine from here." She complained. “Margueritte’s hat is too big.”

As calm as I could, I turned to her, taking the care to make myself sound annoyed. "Do you want to trade seats?"

"Really?" She asked, "Is that allowed?"

I looked at my parents, who were already discreetly looking at us.

"Is it?" I asked.

"I believe so." My father said.

Mom leaned closer to me. "Are you sure you don't mind, chérie?"

I smiled, already getting to my feet. "It's fine. At least this way she'll be quiet."

"I heard that." Lourdes said as she passed me by.

I took her seat and crossed my legs at my ankles, holding my head high facing forward, pretending I didn't see the grin on Harry's face. 

Josephine looked breathtaking; lace bodice, three quarter sleeves, flowy, tulle, ball gown skirt, hair pinned back in a low hairdo, a long veil falling down from her family’s tiara – a Luxembourg tiara –, matching diamond earrings. It was difficult to take my eyes from her, except from one thing.

Harry was touching my hand. His fingers very gently grazed mine, slowly stretching until our middle fingers were enlaced. It was such a simple gesture. Such a light touch. But so many people around who were not meant to know about us. My heart beat faster on my chest and I felt my skin warmer as I remembered all the other ways in which that hand had touched me. I risked a look at him, who stared ahead determinedly.

As the song came to a slow end, I pulled my hand from his, startled, thinking for some reason the silence would make us more visible.

The priest began to speak in a monotone, calm voice up front. By my side, Harry adjusted himself in his seat, leaving his left knee to lightly, but very deliberately, touch mine.

I bit down a grin, sighing. Thinking two could play this game, I reached for the neckline of my dress with my hand, adjusting it slightly as if to fix something, but ‘accidentally’ pulling it down sligthly. As it was V shaped, this enlarged my cleavage only slightly, especially as I crossed my arms over my lap, pulling my breasts together.

I stared ahead, ignoring Harry, but I felt his leg press harder against mine.

“Beautiful wedding, isn’t it?” I whispered to him, pointing my chest in his direction.

“Is this another catholic tradition?” He whispered very lightly leaning closer to me. I smiled, blushing.

I looked down at my lap, fiddling with the program. I had no idea where we were on it, which is why I startled again as suddenly everyone rose from their seats to sing another hymn. I followed, pulling my dress up nervously, but I did leave my arm down hoping Harry would touch my hand again.

It took him what felt like the whole song, but then he finally did. I allowed my own fingers to caress his this time, missing being able to touch him, feeling my palms sweating as the thought.

When we sat down again, and someone else started speaking, he leaned down slowly and asked, whispery:

“Truth or dare?”

I sighed dramatically, and gave him a stern look, hiding my amusement.

“Truth.” I mouthed.

He grinned, and leaned down again. “What were you thinking about during the song?”

What he was asking was, of course, ‘what were you thinking about while our hands touched secretly in the middle of this very full church?’

I leaned to him, but starting ahead, said, “About how good it felt last time you fingered me–”

He sighed, heavily, leaning away from me, adjusting his tie as if it was the most important thing in the world.

He didn’t allow me to ask it back, his eyes stared firmly and frustratingly ahead for the rest of the – very long – service.

When Josephine and Marius walked out as husband and wife, we all waited for their close families to follow and then to the aides to guide us away at the right time. Harry continued to deliberately look away from me at all times. 

We were ushered back into the shuttles with the rest of the family, everyone talking excitedly about their favorite moments of the ceremony. I kept my comments to the dress, the only part I remembered in detail.

The reception was held in the palace; I didn’t see Harry again for a very long time. No one seemed to have noticed anything out of the ordinary, other than Lourdes who asked if I was mad at him because we seemed to have ‘barely spoken’.

As all the guests were in their seats, I finally found Harry in a distant table with other foreign royals who weren’t family. There were speeches, there were dances, there were entrées and champagne, and Harry’s eyes continued to find mine whenever I looked at him. Luckily, I was able to distract myself by my family grilling Adrien about his inappropriate girlfriend.

Conversation was the sound of the night in between courses when I decided to find a bathroom to re-apply my lipstick.

��If you pass by a waiter, would you ask for someone to bring me more water?” Lourdes asked as I left.

“I’m not your maid.”

“Really? It’ll cost nothing–”

“Shut up, of course I’ll do it.”

She rolled her eyes in response.

I was distracted, looking around for a waiter, when my eyes found Harry’s again. This time, too intense to look away. He put his hands in his pocket and pointedly walked out of the hall.

I sighed. It was too idiotic a choice to follow him. Yet, there I was. My feet moving of their own accord.

He walked off down the hallway, calm as can be, stopping only to ask an aide for directions. Down another hallway, he turned to the right, before confidently opening a door, turning back to lock his eyes on mine, and walk inside.

I bit my lower lip and looked around. There was a staff member walking off in the distance, but no one around other than that. I didn’t know if that would last. I walked to the door,  and casually looked around one more time. No one was watching. No one around. I took in a deep breath, and walked inside.

I quickly closed the door behind me, but I had no time to notice anything else. Harry’s lips were on mine, strongly, arms framing me in place against the door. One hand turned the lock, the other traveled up and down my side, his heavy breath on my skin.

“That was not okay.” He said, voice low, anguished, against my neck. “Back there.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I said, innocently. “All I remember is a lovely ceremony.”

He grinned against my neck in between kisses. “Fuck you.”

"It's true.”

“You liked when I fingered you, right?” He asked, lightly biting my earlobe. “Maybe I should do it again, then.”

My whole body trembled at the thought of going back outside, pretending nothing had happened, still pulsating with his touch on me.

“…maybe you should.” I said, weakly, feeling his large hand grasp my breast. “Right here. Right now.”

“…that would be really stupid, now, wouldn’t it?” He asked, reaching down for the hem of my dress, pulling it upwards. “We wouldn’t want to be caught… what would they think?”

“It would be such a scandal.” I agreed, feeling his hands now grip my thighs, pulling me up in one quick move.

He pinned against the wall, legs around his waist, leaving me in the perfect position to feel him thrusting his hardened dick against my crotch.

He touched his forehead to mine, and grinned.

“You’re fucking torture, Your Royal Highness.”

I grinned, happily, wrapping my legs tighter around him.

“You like it.”

He smiled in response, his hands rounded my thighs to reach below in between my legs, finding a path under my wet underwear.

“I do.” He confessed, touching me like it was the very first time. “I like it a lot.”

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[A/N: Well. This was a lot. LOL what do you think??? A lot of...stuff coming so I wanted to take a chapter for happiness only. Also, I promise all that family tree stuff is important. THANK YOU FOR READING AND SORRY I’M LATE! Have a grat week! Next chapter: invictus games! harry’s birthday! MM and Harry get careless... tune in to find out what happens ;) ]