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milky-aeons · 8 months

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[1] — STARGAZER

a/n: i wrote this story years ago! and while i was rereading it out of pure boredom, i decided i wanted to breathe some life back into it again. this shall be multi-chaptered! take your time with it, and please read the warnings before you embark, loves!

warnings: class differences, oppression of women, mentions of illness, mentions of death, depression, violence against women, mentions of abuse, mentions of rape, superstitious natures, spoilers, mdni, w.c 7.4k

౨ৎ . . . chapter ONE of CROWNS OF STARDUST

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚜.

— Grace Willows, To Kiss a King.

𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆. Dotted studs of white fire, splattered over a glassy night sky that sometimes bloomed with purples and indigos of rare supernovas, if you were lucky enough to see them.

You could lie here for hours, like this, gazing at the wonders above. Counting as they winked at you from far away, feeling the evening breeze nip at your cheeks and whisper through the field. And above everything; allow yourself to imagine. To think, secretly, what it would be like if everyone thought like the stars did.

They didn't discriminate, stratify, hate or detest. They simply shined brightly, each of them made of that very same material everyone in the world was also made up of; incandescent, special speckles of stardust.

If only they could see that. If there could be some way to force through the social ladders of your society, to break away from the labels placed upon you. Perhaps the world would be a better place if we thought how the stars did — believed that everyone, no matter how rich or poor, was the very same on that fundamental level.

Intertwined within our souls was the stuff of stars that made us no better or worse than the person next.

Perhaps the world would be just as beautiful as a sky on a peaceful, undisturbed night when every person was allowed to shine just as brightly as the stars above. But this stargazer locked that thought up deep within her heart, just like all others that expected too much from her rank, her social label, and staggered to her feet with a heavy sigh.

The Village of Yo, January, 1831

A chipped, wooden horse came down hard against the worn chess board with a force that rattled all the other pieces. Hand-carven, they were fragile and you should have been a little less vigorous. But caught in the grips of victory, you had little room for such caution.

"Checkmate," You smiled giddily, knocking the King piece off the board. "I win."

Your opponent; a willowy old man with lines streaked across his forehead and an impressive beard grumbled with narrowed eyes. Reaching up, he rubbed a hand down his face. "My, lass. I knew one day you'd catch up to me, but I didn't think it'd be this quick."

Still smiling, you reached down to pick up the King from the floor where it'd landed. You brushed off the delicate carvings on the piece with care, hoping you hadn't damaged it any more. A terrible habit of yours it was; becoming too excited about games and strategy. It was bad enough that one of the castles was missing its parapet because you had become angry at a sneaky strategy your teacher had used. And hurtled the poor piece across the room.

But now, you placed it carefully back, it looks as if said teacher has been bested by the student.

"You should take pride," You assured through a grin. "It means you're a great teacher."

"Teachers don't teach to be bested by their students, lass. Maybe it's my eyes. I didn't even see your counterattack in place, at all."

"Ah, I see. Go on, then. Blame your eyesight." Your lip jutted in a playful frown. "God forbid that a woman beats you at anything. What will the village think? You'd be locked up and subject to a shower of rotten fruit."

"[Name]!" The wood whined as he rapped on it three times. Superstitious to an art form, your Grandfather has always been. Which of course, was why you spoke so loosely to him in the first place. Receiving a rise out of him was one of the ways you loved to keep entertained in this small, handwoven cabin typical to that of common folk.

His cheeks tipped rose when he exclaimed, "You mustn't feed the air with talk of such events!"

You, the victorious Chess Champion, stared your Grandfather in the eye. The pair of you didn't reach the third second before a low chuckle escaped the older man. It was hoarse in a way that spoke of his age, an obvious hallmark of his weakening health you didn't think about so much.

He shook his head. "Aye, my Granddaughter has bested me. Are these lungs of mine finally getting to my head?"

Three consecutive knocks rang through the air. This time, it was you who had copied your Grandfather's superstitious habit and tapped the table. "Now who is feeding the air with bad thinking?" You asked him softly.

"Not bad thinking, lass. Pure truth."

"Grandfather." You frowned even more. Talk of your Grandfather's weakening health sent a thousand small stabs through your heart, opened doors to thoughts of an empty cabin without him there. You couldn't bear to entertain anything but the thought that the new medicine you've received would work. No, it had to.

It must.

The man gave another rattling cough, followed by a scowl. "Rather than wasting money on all that fancy apothecary, why not more food? You're an awful liar, [Name]." His eyes similar to your own — that clear tone which rivalled the smoothest of glass — riveted into you. "You believe you hide your stomach growls, but you doubt the hearing of an old man with poor sight."

On instinct, you placed a hand to your stomach, pressing hard. Through the simple dress tied off at the waist, you could feel the tight skin, the lumps of your protruding ribcage. The hunger spasms had drawn your muscles taut, but the pain was tolerable. Grandfather needed the food more than you, after all. He needed to get better.

"It is nothing," You mumbled. "There has been drought throughout the summer. You know that. Food is sparse. I'm young, I'll live."

The older man studied you with a shaky hand stroking over his beard. It was a long moment before he let out a chuckle. "You've got your Mother's selflessness and your Father's poor deceit. Really, what'll I do with you?"

Images of the young couple that birthed you were gone as quickly as they came. It didn't hurt as much to think about them anymore, as you knew they too, existed in the stars that looked down upon you all. [Name] of the Willows family was strong and always kept her backbone in check, but would be lying if you said you were ready to be completely alone. Not after the sudden passing of your parents.

Even if you had to work in a farm trudging through mud picking up weeds and other unpleasantries, you would keep your Grandfather here on this earth. Your only living relative — one you couldn't bear to let go.

It did not help in the slightest that this drought was financially crippling not only the farming community in the village, but the whole Kingdom of Yo as a nation. They were mainly an agrarian province that got most of its income off of produce. Drought of any kind, especially one lasting this long, was bound to cause chaos in every aspect of the Kingdom. And it had — chaos that was quickly balanced by raising taxes in order to stabilize the economy.

An idea offered by the Royal Family of the Yo Palace.

You ground your teeth every time you thought about the monarchs all were meant to bow down to, to marvel and respect. When they were treated like nothing but cattle to be milked of everything they had? The Miyazawa farm you worked on hardly has any money for themselves in this current climate, not concerning your wages, which had been shaved down as of recently. You had no reason to blame them. No, the people you directed such distaste to were the money-laundering aristocrats that stood on top of it all.

If anyone was responsible for your forced fasting in order to afford basic medicines for your Grandfather's health, it was them.

You were unsure about many things in life; marriage, family, food, but if you could count on one thing; it was that you hated the Royal Family. With everything you could possibly gather within you.

"It's a terrible thing you can't get rid of me," You continued with Grandfather's remark, trying to distract yourself from the depravity of it all. You carefully set up another chess game with the delicate, whittled pieces. Your favourite game. "Who would wake you up in the morning, then?"

"The taxman at the door, that's who." He scoffed.

Whatever water you had in your stomach went sour. "The Royals ought to be ashamed of themselves, taxing us like we have it all to give. Do they not know the people they rule over? How we're struggling?"

A sigh filtered through the air. "Don't be quick to blame the Royals for everything, [Name]. Running a Kingdom is not often black and white. If I had to guess, I believe they don't have a choice."

Suddenly very taken aback by your Grandfather's point of view when his very body was wasting away because of the people he was defending, you shot up. Eyes blazing a bright inferno, neck tight. "How could you defend them?"

"I'm not defending them, lass. But it is wise to think before you project." He rounded his own clear eyes on you. "How would you save a Kingdom if it was falling apart?"

You were about to give into that same habit of reacting when worked up and lash out. They tax us silly, uncaring of how many lives they leave in ruins! But before you barely got a word out, there was a loud commotion outside.

An explosion of high, excited chatter that caught both your attention. Cautiously, you left the chessboard and Grandfather's company to venture to the front door and peer outside. What could it possibly be at this early hour? You wondered with a huff, blinking the sunlight from your narrowed eyes. It was midday; the time of lunch, if one was lucky enough, and perhaps quiet work.

Not an entire gaggle of women hurriedly knocking on doors and running around with their skirts gathered up in their fists.

Wary, you almost scowled at the lady who scurried towards you. The lady was too excited to notice, it would seem.

"Oh, darling!" She gushed, taking you by the hands. "Oh, it's amazing! A miracle!"

"What is?"

The lady shook her clasped hands. "You truly don't know? You have not heard?"

I would have not asked if I did, you wished to remark. Women such as these who were nothing but charm and gossip unnerved you the most. But instead, you remembered basic propriety. "Pray tell? For I have not."

"The Royals, my darling! They've smiled down on us and heard our cries! Recruitment, they have just promised, for all young women under forty and unwedded. With a promised wage! They wish to help those in need in these taxing times! Oh, we've been saved. Saved, my darling!"

Your twitching brows knitted. You were having serious trouble understanding what you had just been told. "Pardon, Miss?"

"The day is wonderful, my Darling!" The lady took her hands away from you and twirled happily on the spot. Her cheeks were stained a delicate rose when she stopped. "I'd place my name down quickly with the Registrar, [Name] Willows! Unwedded and in these troubled times, a servant's job will be a blessing to you!"

Servant's job?

The woman was already scurrying off to the nearest house ready to spill the news when it caught up to you. Your mouth parted to draw a shaky, disbelieved breath. No, this can't be. You turned to look at the other houses along this path. Each and every one of them looked busy, some already ushering their daughters out the door so they could place their names down and help the family income.

Hold on a moment, the Castle is suddenly accepting women to become servants for the Court?

In this financial climate?

Such a handful of women who were desperate for income, like you, were currently taking to the streets with hastily wrapped scarves around their heads. It was a sea of excited commoners, close in age and status to you. Some of which, you were close friends to.

The sight of it all made you suddenly take the severity of what was happening seriously and gather your skirts to turn back into the house.

"Grandfather," It was a hurried whisper on your tongue. "Grandfather, where are you?"

The older man was already standing at the small kitchen you shared, his back turned. Unbothered, he never really was one for dramatics when they arose in the society. "Why do you sound like you've seen a ghost, lass?" He asked while pouring a shaky cup of water. "Don't bring any of that societal malarkey into this home."

"No, Grandfather, this is not—this is," You were having trouble getting coherent words out. Because surely, this couldn't be true. "The Castle—they're—?"

"Use words correctly," A small tap on your forehead that made you blink. You hadn't been flicked as such since your teenage years. But it seemed to do the trick — because your were shaken right out of your startled haze. One tight swallow and you were right back in the room.

"The women," You began quickly. "They've come saying that the Castle is looking for new workers. Servant women, able and unwedded. They promise of a wage, Grandfather." Your expression suddenly grew tight. "Do they mean to mock us? First they take away our taxes, now they take any women who are able for a family?"

Silence followed your obvious open question. It made you frown when he stared into the murky water with quiet contemplation.

"Grandfather?" You pressed, now confused.

It was a few more moments of a now heavy silence before he tipped the water down his throat, followed by a rattled cough. "So, what are you waiting for?" He suddenly piqued, irritated. The cup came down heavily onto the kitchen table. "Where is your scarf, your bags, your birth papers? You'll be a fool to think that they will accept just any woman who doesn't get there first!"

Warmth spread quickly from your chest up to the top of your neck. Like a slap to the cheek, the words from your Grandfather were hard and unexpected in their impact. Your hands clasped into shaking fists at your sides.

"What are you saying? Do you honestly believe I would work as a servant woman in their Castle—?"

"Better a servant girl than pulling weeds up in that Miyataza farm you work on."

"Miyazawa farm, Grandfather. It is the Miyazawa family."

"Does it matter, lass? I could bet a Castle job would pay you far more generously than weeding. Servants are treated well. They are fed and warm when they sleep."

The heat was creeping into your cheeks now. How dare he try to send you away? How dare he even think you would consider being sent away?

"I'm not leaving you." Was the hard-line, final statement. You stood straight and taut, daring your Grandfather to wish you away.

Truthfully — due to the mechanisms of this time and the harsh needs of society; you really couldn't stand in the way if Grandfather truly wished to send you to the Castle. Because you were a woman, and he led the house as a man. Misogyny was the only thing a tomboy, unwedded woman like you could not break down with nothing but her soul and stubbornness.

But you could damn well try. Every day, you could try.

"Grandfather," You put every emotion into the soft plea. Begging him to understand that this would rip a hole in your heart. That you would better uproot weeds from a farm with your skirts bunched than polish a lavish Palace hall. Would rather feel the pang in your stomach from days of foodless meals than not see him every morning and night. "Please, don't send me away."

The answer which greeted you was icy and so unlike the man who cared for you. "That's enough, lass. You're going. It's an opportunity not to be missed."

"I don't want to leave you!"

At that, Grandfather glared at you. But it was softer around the edges — the glass of his eyes now a gentle powdery colour. For a spared moment, you were hopeful that guilt had finally swayed him. Even more so when he reached up to pet your hair; an affectionate gesture of his own. You dropped your eyes and leaned into the pat, knowing that the hope would crackle and burn around you. Like everything else in your miserable life you continued to struggle against.

"Servants of the Castle are permitted to return once a month. You won't miss this ol' shack that much, lass. Tending to me and my rotten coughing. Your parents would have wanted it for you," He spoke softly. The gravel of his lung condition made the words a raspy wheeze. "A servant woman of the Palace. You couldn't ask for anything better when we're all drownin' in poverty."

A choked sob was steadily rising in your throat, but you pushed it down and averted your eyes. In a shaky whisper, you attempted one last time, "The Royals are the last people I would ever serve, Grandfather. Even if they promise of a wage."

You could hear it in his chuckle — the knowing grin he always wore. Oftentimes, it reminded you vaguely of your Father.

"Remember, [Name]. If your Kingdom was in ruins, how would you save it?"

The village of the Yo Kingdom was still buzzing with excitement hours after the news was relayed to every single door. Mothers and Grandmothers alike who did not meet the criteria for work waved their younger daughters off, some with cloths up to their mouths to hide the tears. Of elation or despair, you didn't know.

It was with a heavy heart that you packed your things in the small area you and Grandfather shared for sleep; him on the bed while you took to the floor most nights. Not that it ever bothered you. Something about the musty scent of oakwood and the tuft of hay you treated as a pillow stayed with you as you wrapped the scarf around your head. Home, you thought with lines bracketing your frown, this was your home and you were only permitted to return once a month.

Could you truly serve the family you hated so much?

You didn't let the hope in your heart dwindle. Having spent a generous deal of time arguing with Grandfather while getting ready — perhaps the Registrar was no longer there. Maybe a good number of women had beat you to it first and you were too late. With a deep breath did you continue your walk across the small village street — following some stray women as they hurried along the same route. Constantly, you turned around to look at your Grandfather once more. But you had ventured far into the city now — your home was around the bend and well out of eye's view.

If the Gods smile down on you, then perhaps you wouldn't have to leave for too long. The Registrar will be full, and you could return right back to where you wanted to be.

Perking a little, you entertained how you would laugh right in his face when you returned home. Ha! Would you look at that, you senile old man. It just wasn't meant to be! A servant woman is not where the Heavens want me to go! A small giggle rushed through you, lifting your spirits ever so. It seemed more probable now the more you walked; there was a high chance the Palace would not accept any more applicants after the previous sea of women bombarded them.

Yes, you told yourself, that's right. And then I can think of what to make Grandfather for dinner tonight. No more will I have to entertain the thought of aiding that horrid, despicable family—

You rounded the sharp bend, only to feel your stomach plummet to the floor.

Sitting in the middle of the cobblestone pave-way was the table you were desperately hoping would not be. Women flocked around it; an ocean of scarfed heads and chattering voices. If it wasn't for another lady brushing passed you would have stayed there frozen and allowed the small sack to fall through your fingers. The Registrar, you quickly realised with dread, he's still here.

You hadn't been too late, after all.

The Gods continued to hold their frown on you.

"Oi, you!"

You snapped to attention when someone singled you out. A burly man, dressed in robes of blue and pure white with a sword at his hilt. The Palace colours. Everything about his demeanour told you swiftly that he was a Royal Knight.

And this Royal Knight was glaring at you intensely.

"I asked you to move into line!" He thrust a gloved hand to the suddenly startled row of women, whose eyes darted frantically. "You block any woman attempting to come through standing there!"

Survival instincts instructed your body to move on command, knowing full well a Royal Knight was not a man to be trifled with. Especially one twice your size and brandishing a terrifying sword. But because you had a stubbornness that could border dangerous in the wrong situations, you projected a tempered glare his way.

"Forgive me, my Lord." You said through tight teeth.

The Knight bared his own teeth and opened his mouth — obviously, he was unused to common village girls who didn't bend underneath his command. Damned Knights, it was a bitter thought quick in your mind as the Knight brought his hand up, everyone attached to those Royals believed they were above everyone else!

Bracing for a crack to your cheek — like so many others you had witnessed, especially when commoners were loose-lipped with those in high command — your eyes snapped shut. Women shrieked and moved away from the scuffle. Your whole body tensed in expectation.

"Sir Francis!"

It was a strong, steely voice that sliced through the air. Because it was taking too long for the pompous Knight to impact, you risked opening one eye. Then the other when your possible assailant wasn't looking your way any more. What in the world...?

The Knight was staring over to where the table was when you trained your eyes there, following every other woman's gawks, also. Seated at the table and the obvious owner of the words was the man that took the names down of possible servant candidates.

The Registrar.

His grey eyes gleamed impatiently underneath the square glasses he donned, mouth stitched.

"—disrespectful, my Lord." You caught the tail-end of what the Knight was saying. "I was teaching her a lesson."

"A lesson, huh?" The Registrar wondered. If you could believe, it looked like he was displeased with the Knight's actions. Surely not, you shook your head minutely amidst the surprise, it was common knowledge that most Knights mistreated commoners. Slapping women was not the worst they could do.

The Knight nodded stoically.

"Bring her here." The Registrar asked with a quick flick of his wrist. "Quickly. Hindrances will only delay the schedule."

"M-My Lord?"

"Are you wasting my time, Sir Francis?"

"A-Absolutely not!" The Knight exclaimed. Then before you could react, he wrapped a strong hand around your frail arm and roughly hauled you forward. Your habit kicked up again on reflex, hurling every disrespectful word you could at the Knight — even attempting to kick him in the shin. But he was Palace trained and you hadn't eaten in days. Any attack you attempted would have been laughably akin to a toddler's in your state.

An unhinged, furious wreck; you were thrown before the Registrar's small table. Your hands flew out to brace yourself against the wood so you wouldn't sink to your knees. No man would make you result to your knees; Royal Guard or the King himself.

But your fumble did result in an ink bottle tipping over and spreading a river of black all over the parchment of names.

"Ahh! T-The names!" One voice wailed. Another Royal Guard. His tone quickly became seething when directed your way. "You useless cur! You'll atone for this with a whipping—!"

"There will be no whipping."

Blinking, you shot up to see the face of the Registrar staring you down. Tall and faintly handsome; he had smooth skin of porcelain that threw his grey eyes into sharp focus. A mane of golden hair was kept neatly in a tail at the back of his head — not a piece out of place. You hated how his heavy stare made you gulp. Especially when there was an irritated tick to his jaw.

But then, he sighed. "Fetch me another bottle of ink," He spoke to the Knight over his shoulder. "There should be a Craftsman nearby. You have two minutes."

"My Lord, this behaviour is uncanny. You should not allow her to—!"

"Whipping is a sore waste of time when we have so much women to get through." The Registrar hissed in a tempered whisper that could very well be a chilly breeze. He tossed his eyes back to the Knight, and you noticed the bob of his throat. "Are you attempting to tell me what to do?"

It wasn't a question. It was a careful, dangerous threat.

And the Royal Knight answered him correctly. "N-Never, My Lord!" And with that, he was spun around and off he scurried to find the ink bottle. You noticed the barest droop in the Registrar's tense shoulders, and couldn't help it when the words came tumbling forth;

"You saved me from a beating."

The Registrar slid his eyes to you. You knew you shouldn't have said it — not because it was improper and lacked propriety, because it did. You had no care for that. It was because he was looking at you now as a human would stare at an insect, and you were reminded of why Royal Court Members were people you'd never show gratitude to.

Straightening, you steeled your spine and hardened your glare. "I don't know what I can offer you." You hissed.

The Registrar may appear as if he is looking at a bug, but now his eyebrow raised. An interesting bug, perhaps. "I do hope you don't believe you can become a servant with no etiquette."

"Oh, I don't want to be a servant." You said proudly. "It was my Grandfather who sent me."

"Surely, he does not place the hopes of income on you?" The faintest ribbon of amusement in his tone. You caught it, and grinned.

"Better on me than a useless airhead woman who has no backbone when expected to serve in a Castle of Thieves."

Were you purposely attempting to jeopardise your chances? Perhaps. Your sharp tongue was more to do with the gleam of jest in the Registrar's cool grey eyes. It rubbed your nerves wrongly, how the Royal Workers thought the people they ruled were amusing little rodents; only to give money and anything else material.

"The Castle of Thieves?" He ventured, albeit lowly. It would surely be odd if the Registrar repeated such accusations of his place of work. You couldn't help but be taken aback by his curious manner, but hid it well.

The Registrar leaned back. No longer an insect, you thought as he regarded you with indifference. You had upgraded to a comical animal. The barest smile on his lips gave it away.

"You speak boldly." Was all he offered.

"Someone in this village has to." You countered.

"Speaking boldly in the Palace will result with your skin being littered with scars. Court Members are everything but lenient."

"Well, then that's that settled! I'm just too improper to be a servant woman. Truly, a shame." Secretly elated, you were preparing to turn right around. "I thank you for listening to me, My—"

"Wait."

Your bones and muscles snapped, froze. With an uneasy feeling in your gut that your habit had just upset the Registrar, who commanded the Knights around him, did you hesitantly look over your shoulder. When he said nothing but stared did you hold back a sigh and turn right around.

"Yes, My Lord?" You got out. A beating? Or perhaps you will be forcefully robbed of your innocence? It was unwise to question the extent of punishment a high-standing Official could mete out. But were you sorry? You grit your teeth, never in an aeon of existence.

The Registrar was quiet for a second, only studying you with everything but a livid expression. It not only made you perplexed, it also made you more nervous than what a glare would do. "Do you have your birth papers?"

You blinked. "Pardon?"

"Your birth papers. I expect you have them on you?"

Indeed, but you weren't about to give them up to this man. Although two Royal Knights had suddenly flanked either side of you — attracted by the commotion and why you were taking so long. So, with a jaw locked and eyes daggering into the man before you, did you reach into your sack and produce the heavy parchment.

He took it in his long, nimble fingers. Studied it with eyes downcast under his peculiar frames.

"[Name] Willows. Of childbearing age," He glanced up. "I assume you are unwedded?"

He assumes. You forced the annoyance down into your gut. Right where the other hatred for the Royals and their henchmen resided. "No." The Royal Knights and their weapons made you spit, "My Lord."

You and the grey-eyed Registrar didn't break the stare-off, not even when the Knight came stumbling back with the fresh ink-bottle in hand.

"My Lord!" He yelled breathlessly. "My Lord, I have fetched the ink. Some new parchment too. Courtesy of the Craftsmen Charlisle."

"He has my thanks," The Registrar opened his palm behind so the bottle could be placed there. When it was, did he spread the new parchment out and dip a fine quill in. "[Name] Willows," He said the name like a condemning sentence. The very end to all of your happiness. Your wide eyes tracked each swirl of the quill, every dot and dab. No way —

The Registrar sat up and smiled at you. It was that unnerving half smile. One that set all your nerves alight and spread fire coursing throughout your bloodstream. "Congratulations. Starting today, you shall be a training servant woman. May you enjoy your stay in the Castle of Thieves."

You let every bit of your pride go in the moment of shock. Mouth gaping, eyes widened. Surely there had been a mistake. There was no way the Castle accepted women who didn't keep their thoughts, voices and tongues to themselves. It was a matter of propriety, and in the Castle — propriety was held at the highest value. The Registrar was still studying you when the red cleared from your vision.

"Miss [Name]," He questioned. "Did you hear me correctly? There are others we must see to."

This damn Registrar, your fists clasped at your sides, practically vibrating with rage, this man was messing with you! He had to be!

"You can't be serious." You whispered. "The Castle would never allow it."

"I'm the Registrar. My duty is to choose what women I believe will make the most able servants. And perhaps, dare I say, you've enlightened me. It's true. Women who, as you say, 'have no backbone' will never survive serving under the Prince and King of the Yo Court."

The sentence was sealed in stone. Due to your habit, your humanly need to not be treated as scum by the higher-ups in society had just landed you in your worst nightmare. A job at the Caste, serving under the monarchs you hated the most. Being given a wage made from the taxes these villagers were being squeezed of. And there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

Already plunged into hell, you figured you may as well go out with a bang while you descended.

"What is your name?" You whispered to him.

His golden brow cocked. "I'm the Registrar."

"You mean to tell me your Mother gifted you with that name?"

A beats silence. The Registrar stayed still, contemplating long enough to deceive you into thinking he would not answer. Of course he wouldn't, pompous Court Official that he was. But after the silence was up, he leaned over the table. This wicked grey-eyed man who had just sealed your fate under lock and key.

"Kunikida Doppo," He said to you. "Secretary to The Throne. I will also be controlling your wages, Miss [Name]. I do hope your time-wasting habit does not carry over to your work."

You met him with a challenging smirk. "My Lord, Kunikida Doppo. How grateful I am to be granted this chance. Of course, I won't waste my time." Then, your voice dipped into a deadly whisper. One that was uncanny to any woman of society. Or any woman who wished to keep alive, period. Yet you, in that moment, couldn't find it in yourself to give a damn. "But I can promise you that I'll do everything to waste yours."

Outside the Throne Room, the Royal Palace of Yo

Court Officials; dressed in their beautiful garments of fine silks and studded gems, waited cautiously outside the Throne Room. The women with fans open in front of their faces to hide their frowns. Frowns, after all, stressed the skin to a point of wrinkles. No woman of the Court should be caught doing such a thing. The men had their hands of the hilt of their swords, swearing under their breaths and chattering in low voices.

"What do they think the Prince will do? If none of us could crack 'em, why do they think a pampered Royal can?"

He was met with violent shushing of another man. This one was a lot older and therefore, not as arrogant. Arrogance in the Palace of Yo got any man killed.

"Idiot!" He hushed. "Don't speak so easily of the Prince! Have you not heard his name in the halls?"

"His name?" The other man wasn't impressed. "'Course I have. It's common knowledge to know our Prince's—"

"No, his nickname. 'Demon Prince' is what the walls call him! You would be wise not to doubt his abilities of cruelty. Especially during interrogation."

The nickname of the Prince, the only Prince of Yo and heir to The Throne, sent violent shivers down each spine in the room. Women recoiled further behind their embellished fans, men cast their faces to the shadows with thin lips. It was all except for the gaudy original man, who had recently only joined the Court and was foolish in his thinking.

"Pwah!" He scoffed. The soft whisper of metal as he took out his sword. "I don't believe for a second that a spoiled Prince could do what actual Guards couldn't do! He was a lapdog his whole life — an only child!" There was an arrogant smile on his face. Perhaps the reason why he didn't notice the heavy sounds of doors opening behind him, or the desperate quiet pleas of the Court Members, was because he was so caught up in his bragging.

Whoosh, his sword sliced lazily through the air and he declared loudly, "I wager I could knock the brat on his behind with just one match!"

"Truly?"

It was a new voice that filtered through the air, stiffening everyone's bones in the hallway. Soft and mellifluous, the tone of the Yo Prince was rumoured to send men to their knees, women shaking with uncontrollable sobs, and government officials to tighten their jaws.

Today, his voice was echoed by the hiccups and tears from inside the Throne Room. The man that every Guard was interrogating without success was resulted to a blubbering, pathetic mess with just ten minutes alone with the First Prince.

The man brandishing the sword swivelled right around.

It wasn't only his voice that could break even the most hardened souls with wicked words. Rumours circled that it was his eyes — the shade of mahogany, of whiskey mixed with deep coffee. They bore into your spirit. Scanned deeply until you were stripped bare of everything you attempted to hide.

There was a sudden clang of metal on the tiles. The Prince didn't even flinch. He continued to stare at the now defenceless man, who was shaking in his boots.

The Prince cocked his head. "Would you be so kind to repeat yourself? I don't think I heard correctly."

Perspiration broke out everywhere along the man's skin. He was shaking so much now that he was sure of collapse. No one in the hallway was surprised, and braced themselves for the fate of the arrogant Court Official. He barely had lasted a week, and proceeded to insult the Prince to his face. Death, or something far worse, was imminent.

"N-N-Nothing—Nothing, My Liege." The shaking man regurgitated the words. Unashamedly, there was a growing patch of wet taking form in his tights. "I-I-I assure you."

The Demon Prince let absolutely nothing change in his expression. Silence befell over them, heavy and thick, coating everyone in a layer of sticky oil. No one dared breathe, blink or even move. Not when an execution was about to be sentenced.

But the Prince did something more than that, and objectively a lot more terrifying.

He smiled.

"Ah, is that so? Forgive me, Guard-san. It appears the interrogation has left me tired~" His eyes blinked once, twice, and the dark coffee was now a bright whiskey. That was the other rumoured thing about the Demon Prince; his usual persona was calm and silly, yet underneath there housed a terrible monster no one should get in the way of.

He turned to another Guard. "Officer-san?"

"Y-Yes!" The older man stood to stoic solute.

"He's a spy of the Ko Kingdom," The Prince said easily, gesturing to the man who was crying on the floor in the Throne Room. No doubt his soul had ben fractured into thousand irreparable pieces. "Was sent to gather information on our economy. Word is spreading quickly that our drought is near crippling. He was due to report back to the Kingdom yesterday," He let out a light, almost playful sigh. "But you see, the man got greedy and enjoyed himself too much in a brothel house last night~! Spilled his entire guts to a lovely whore he was accompanying. What do you say to that, Officer-san?"

The man almost turned green with pressure. "I—I have nothing to offer, only that it was a life threatening mistake on his part, My Liege."

"Ehhh, you think brothels are 'life threatening', Officer-san?"

"T-That is not at all what I was—"

A peal of perfect laughter rang out when the Prince threw his head back. His mass of brown curls fell perfectly over his eyes when he straightened, those eyes decorated with long dark lashed were shut in happy moons. Deceitful, that was the First Prince of Yo, and God love anyone who fell for his blindingly attractive charm.

"My, my, Officer-san. You're like an innocent school-girl! How about we go to a brothel and find a lovely lady to not tell your wife about~?"

"M-My Liege!"

"Come now, don't be nervous. Life if all about new experiences."

"I can assure you that I have—I have—!"

The atmosphere around the hallway was gently eased until the air was at least breathable again. Some brazen women snapped their fans shut now that their lips were upturned into a smile. Many of the men engaged in the Prince's easy banter. It was no small secret that, when he was in the correct mood, that the Prince had his way with people. Those who never touched or saw the other side to him naturally flocked to his presence.

The only remnants of his commanding, terrifying side was the sounds of wails in the Throne Room; a spy who stood no chance against the Prince's careful questions that everyone decided to stay ignorant to.

That and the shaken man who had been on the receiving end of the Prince's stare. The man who stared death right in the face through eyes of the darkest brown, and escaped, but was now resulted to a soiled, sword-less mess. Frozen to the spot, staring at the open Throne Room and unable to escape from the nightmare the Prince has traumatised him into.

"Were you successful?"

The Prince of Yo, nicknamed the 'Demon Prince' by many of those who were unfortunate enough to encounter that side, strolled into the Quarters he was summoned to. This room was laved in gold and expensive jewels, silk bedsheets and grand oil paintings. In those paintings was the man who ruled over the entire Kingdom of Yo. And, the owner of the voice that called to his visitor.

The King of Yo; King Dietrich. He rarely uses his family name, although the house they lived in was brandished with the surname Dazai.

With a sigh, the Prince waved his hand. "The man was like an open book. Too easy to read, I got him to talk within a minute."

The King turned from the window to gaze at his son. His only son, and yet, there was a rift between them that was too cold to be one of family. They were simply King and Prince, and their fondness never extended past those titles.

He raised a brow. "Officer Hijikata told me you were in there for ten minutes."

At that, the Prince smiled. It was a bone-chilling smile, one that sucked the light from his eyes. "There are other things to do to a man's mind when you take away all his secrets."

The King regarded his son for a long moment, through the brown eyes so similar to his. Then, let out the most regal of sighs. "Such an unsightly habit you have, Dazai. You'd be careful not to terrorise the new servants being trained. It's taxing enough that your branded with a nickname."

"Nicknames are commoner games. Do you think they use them to feel power? That brandishing another with labels is how they humanise?"

"There you go again, speaking so unsightly. These manners will slip out to the public."

Dazai Osamu, the Prince of Yo and Heir to the Throne, waltzed lazily over to his Father's desk and picked up a tumbler. It was gorgeously carved out of magnificent glass, intended truly to be a gift for the King.

He poured himself a healthy serving of whiskey and downed it in one go. Alcohol never did much to fill the indescribably gaping hole in his existence, but it made him feel something.

"Then let them. It'll only produce more labels. More ways of pointless humanising," He brought the empty glass to his lips and stared distantly. Through those eyes that broke men down, that instilled fear into those older than him, that yearned for amusement to distract himself from his outlook on life. "It matters not. I don't deserve the title of human, any way."

ྀི. Chapter Notes:

↣ "The Registrar" is a title I gave to Kunikida as he was taking names from the women who were registering to become a servant of the Castle. It's not his official title, however. His official title is The Secretary of the Palace. ↣ A "Secretary" to a Throne is someone who supports many aspects of a monarch's private affairs; such as finances, schedules and correspondence. The main duty of The Secretary is to communicate the monarchs wishes to different areas of Government. Sometimes, a Court Secretary can also be The Secretary of State. ↣ Prince Dazai's nickname; "The Demon Prince of Yo" is a direct play on his nickname "Demon Executive" of the Port Mafia during the Dark Era arc of the anime. And the Fifteen Light Novel arc, I think? I tend to mention these plays throughout the book as I don't want to discredit Asagiri and make it clear what are my ideas an what is parody. ヾ(≧▽≦*)o ↣ Dazai's closing dialogue of; "I don't deserve the title of human, any way" is drawn from both Osamu Dazai's book No Longer Human and his ability in the anime, No Longer Human.

ʚɞ . . . 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

ʚɞ . . . 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄

#bungou stray dogs fanfiction #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #kunikida doppo #crowns of stardust #headers by astralnymphh #dividers by saradika!#port mafia #armed detective agency #🪄— milky writes

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littlelostmabari · 3 months

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A note found on Gale's pillow the day after the visit to the Stormshore Tabernacle.

Spoilers for Act 3. (Divider by cafekitsune)

Sweetness of Mortal Love

Do you remember when the shadow of Never Again loomed like a grinning maw above Moonrise?

When I begged you to reach for me and you said her name in my place because she used to be your everything?

When I cried and pried my name out of your mouth. I pulled it from your lungs between your teeth and forced your tongue to twist in new reverence.

You stayed, and told Never Again that it was wrong. You stayed, and said Always. Now you speak anew, that with me you

Forget your goddess.

You say I taught you to forget, but I'm not sure what took her place.

How am I to compete with iron and stones and power and Folly and immortality and the Outer Planes and

What if you've forgotten more than your goddess?

#i have so many thoughts about how i would respond to Gale and the crown #and the lines available to Tav just don't do it justice #i need him to understand that ascending means losing himself #and losing himself means losing Tav #i dont normally write poetry but this one came to me and i had to release it into the wild #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 gale #gale angst #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #dividers by @cafekitsune

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kodaswrld · 11 days

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Can I have some black and red kinda Royal looking dividors, please? If you do do them, thank you so much!!!!! :3 <3

hii ~ yes you can sweetie!

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cutewebgraphics · 2 years

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#Old web #web graphics #webcore #kawaii #dividers #love #hearts #jewels #bows #ribbons #lace #crown

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wonder-worker · 1 month

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The division between the two families [the Woodvilles and the Nevilles] and their allies can be seen in the royal charters that they witnessed. Warwick, Rivers and Archbishop Neville of York, while serving as chancellor and afterwards, were fairly constant witnesses to royal charters and consequently often appeared together. This was not, however, the case for other family members and friends. From 1466 to 1469, if Scales or Woodville associates like Sir John Fogge, John Lord Audley or Humphrey Lord Stafford of Southwick witnessed royal charters, then members of the Neville group, such as John Neville, earl of Northumberland, or John Lord Wenlock would not, and vice versa. Discounting the ubiquitous Warwick, Rivers and Archbishop Neville, of the twenty-four charters issued between February 1466 and June 1469, twelve were witnessed by men associated with the Woodvilles, eight by men associated with the Nevilles and two were witnessed by no member of either group beyond the two earls at their heads and the archbishop; only two charters, both from 1466, featured associates of both families.

Such striking segregation of witnesses suggests that something more than simple convenience or availability was at play. [...] The evidence of these witness lists does show the extent of the split between the two groups from early in Edward's [first] reign and of the need for political society to work with that cleavage in the heart of the Yorkist regime."

-Theron Westervelt, "Royal charter witness lists and the politics of the reign of Edward IV"

*This is specifically applicable for Edward IV's first reign; in contrast, the charters in his second reign displayed a great deal of aristocratic and domestic unity and cohesion.

#the woodvilles #edward iv #wars of the roses #richard neville 16th earl of warwick #my post #elizabeth woodville #Obviously I hate the idea of Elizabeth and her family being seen as a social-climbing invasive species who banished the old nobility and #drove Warwick/Richard into rebellion and dominated the government and controlled the king and were responsible for Everything Wrong Ever #but I also dislike the 'revisionist' idea that they were ACTUALLY just passive and powerless bystanders or pawns who kept to their #social “place” (whatever the fuck that means). Frankly speaking this is more of a diminishment than a realistic defense.#the 'Queen's kin' (as they were known at the time) were very visible at court and demonstrably influential and prominent in politics #and as this shows there DOES seem to have been a genuine division/conflict between them and the Nevilles during Edward's first reign #(which DID directly lead to the decline of Neville dominance in England though the maintained honored positions and influence of their own)#Especially since Edward's second reign was entirely void of any such divisions - instead the nobility were united and focused on the King #even Clarence and Gloucester's long and disruptive quarrel over the Warwick inheritance never visibly left its mark on charters #so the Woodville/Neville divide from the 1460s must have been very sharp and divisive indeed #And yes it's safe to say that Elizabeth Woodville was probably involved: whether in her own right or via support of her family - or both -#it's illogical to argue that she was uninvolved (even the supportive Croyland Chronicle writes that Edward was “too greatly influenced”#by her; she and her family worked together across the 1470s; she was the de-facto head in 1483; etc)#Enhanced by the fact that Elizabeth was the first Englishwoman to be crowned queen - meaning that the involvement of her #homeborn family marked the beginning of “a new and largely unprecedented factor in the English power structure” (Laynesmith)#This should be kept in mind when it comes to analyzing contemporary views of them and of Elizabeth's own anomalous position #HOWEVER understanding the complexity of the situation at hand doesn't mean accepting the traditionally vilified depiction of the Woodvilles #Warwick and the Nevilles remained empowered and (at least outwardly) respected by the regime #Whether he was driven by disagreements over foreign policy or jealousy or ambition - the decision to rebel was very much his own #Claiming that the Woodvilles were primarily responsible is ridiculous (and most of the nobility continued to support Edward regardless)#There's also the fact that Warwick took what was probably a basic factional divide and turned it into a misogynistic and classist narrative #of a transgressive “bad” woman who became queen through witchcraft and aggrandized a family of social-climbing “lessers” who replaced #the inherently more deserving old nobility and corrupted the realm - later revived and intensified by Richard III a decade later #ie: We can recognize their genuine division AND question the (false/unfair) problematic narrative around the Woodvilles. Nuance is the key.

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sooinbloom · 5 months

Text

The Kingdom of Us

Chapter 10

pairing: kyungsoo x OFC genre: Royal!AU, nonidol!soo, crownprince!kyungsoo, romance, drama theme: arranged marriage, modern royalty, enemies to lovers, war, betrayal word count: 6,947 description: Kyungsoo and Alina get surprising news, King Daniel returns to Alina’s life and Kyungsoo goes toe to toe with the very man who hurt his princess. warnings: mentions of abuse, violence, physical assault, fighting using weapons. MINORS DNI

author’s notes: hello dear reader! I apologize for not updating timely but I decided to share this with you today to celebrate Kyungsoo’s song Popcorn reaching over a million streams on Spotify and over a million views on YouTube! We are so close to Blossom, I am so excited. Please enjoy this chapter, it’s only going to get more intense from here. Photos are not mine, dividers by @saradika-graphics . Enjoy!

ALINA

I didn’t remember falling asleep in the library, or how I got into bed. With a stretch, I realize that I’m draped in Kyungsoo’s shirt he was wearing yesterday. I snuggle into it and smile to myself. Despite the war, he manages to give me the beauty I’ve missed since the attacks started. We are required to be strong as leaders, but behind closed doors it’s weighing heavy on me. The images of people suffering and everything around them being destroyed eats at me, and the fact that we’ve entered into a world war against a crooked King and delusional allies.

Spending time with Kyungsoo made me see that what we have is real and not a fantasy, he proved to be my best source of comfort in these uncertain times. The war caused us to be separated and busy with relief work and a lot of military strategy, but we knew this was just the reality of our positions as Crown Prince and Princess. I’ve heard whispers about my father-in-law not wanting to perform his duties as King. It’s uncharacteristic of him to shrink back, I have an undeniable suspicion that he may hand the Crown over to Kyungsoo as to keep his name out of this war. Kyungsoo hasn’t spoken about it, but I know it must be weighing heavy on his mind. He does most duties of a king without the title anyway, and our allies are becoming confident that we can win this war with him leading the fight.

“Darling, you’re awake.” Kyungsoo walks into our room and leans down to kiss me. He’s in his military fatigues and that sharpens my attention. I sit up and his shirt slides up my thighs, his curious eyes follow the fabric as it slips and pools at my hips.

“Why are you in your fatigues, amorcito?” I ask curiously.

“Things are changing rapidly, princess. It’s looking as though that I have to fight in this war, our alliances are urging every man to fight and I can’t sit idly by because of my title as Crown Prince,” Kyungsoo sighs, he can see the anxiety in my eyes, “Hey… Don’t be anxious. I’ll be fine, love.”

“It doesn’t stop my worrying.” I grumble. Kyungsoo sits on the bed and brings me to his side, his fingers trace my hip gently.

“Look at me, listen to me. This war may separate us temporarily, but I’ll fight my way back to you. I’ll keep you safe even if I’m not at your side. To prove it, there’s two people I want you to meet today.” Kyungsoo smiles.

“Two people? Who?” I curiously raise a brow.

“Trust me, darling. Go get dressed. And… make sure you cover these up.” Kyungsoo cheekily grins, caressing the purple marks he left on my neck and chest. I blush at the realization that there’s something to cover up in the first place.

“Yes, Your Highness.” I wink, walking toward my wardrobe. I pick out a more formal outfit, a skirt that falls past my knees, a chunky sweater and flats. Though it’s springtime, it’s still on the colder side so the sweater works in my benefit to cover the marks on my chest. I pluck my makeup from its place near my accessories and take a quick shower. While getting dressed, I wonder who it is that I’ll be meeting today. I put my makeup on and make sure to cover the love marks on my neck, my body tingles at the thought of how they got there. Kyungsoo is… Quite the lover. I feel so wanted by him, so loved… It’s a stark contrast from where we were when we first met. I sigh and fix my hair in two braids, a more traditional style than what I have been wearing lately. I meet Kyungsoo in the common room and his smile radiates on his face.

“You’re so beautiful, darling.” Kyungsoo smiles as he takes my hand in his. We walk to the War Room, a place I’ve only been in a handful of times. Two men stand talking with Commander Jongin and Commander Minseok, one of them has a boisterous laugh that feels familiar. Once Commander Minseok sees us coming, he immediately turns and salutes us, the three other men doing the same.

“At ease, gentleman.” Kyungsoo calls, keeping his hand in mine, “Good morning, Commanders and Lieutenants. Thank you for being on time today on short notice. Crown Princess Alina needs additional security during these troubling times, and I only want the best for my wife. That is why I requested you, Lieutenants, to keep a close eye on her. Crown Princess, I would like for you to meet Lieutenants Kim Jongdae and Oh Sehun. They are my best assassins, some of my most trusted men.”

Both Lieutenants bow to me, and my eyes settle on Lieutenant Jongdae. My eyes water as he smiles at me, and it’s then that I realize exactly why this emotion overwhelmed me.

“Lieutenant Jongdae, please forgive me, but you remind me so much of my brother, Ignacio.” I smile, holding back my tears.

“Crown Princess, thank you for such an honored comparison. I fought alongside His Royal Highness on my last tour. He spoke very highly of you, Your Highness.” Lieutenant Jongdae nods politely. Kyungsoo squeezes my hand and offers a soft smile. He knows how much I’ve been missing my brothers and following the news of the battles happening in Azteco.

“Please, call me Alina, as we will more than likely be spending a lot of time together.” I insist with a soft smile.

“It’s against protocol to call you anything other than your titles, Crown Princess.” Lieutenant Sehun lowers his head.

“Lieutenant, I will tell you this about my wife. If Crown Princess Alina wants something, she gets it and there’s no arguing. So, if she feels more comfortable with you calling her by her name, then that’s what she gets. However, proceed with caution when around the royal family.” Kyungsoo explains with a soft laugh. Something is off, why would Kyungsoo out of nowhere want to have new military personnel watch over me? Especially Seoul’s highest regarded assassins? I just graciously nod and smile and try to put the pieces together.

“I will take that in regard, Crown Prince.” Lieutenant Sehun nods.

“Excuse me? Crown Princess? I am here to collect you for revisions for the relief aid plan?” Lisette enters the room with a deep bow. I turn and nod, then focus back on the commanders and lieutenants in the room.

“It’s a pleasure seeing and meeting all of you. I hope you work hard today.” I bow to them, and they lower their heads. I look at Kyungsoo and bow to him, his hand brushes mine quickly. I turn to Lisette and following her out of the room. “What revisions need to be made?”

“Somehow, at the border of Valencia, Azteco is stopping the caravans and seizing the relief supplies we have sent in the last three weeks.” Lisette explains. I have relied heavily on Lisette and her organization skills to help me with all of these efforts. We enter the palace again and we sit at Lisette’s desk, discussing the plans of how to get a workaround for all of the aid. Once we’re done with that, she gushes to me about the secret dates she’s been having with Duke Chanyeol. It doesn’t surprise me that they started seeing each other secretly.

“Amiga, he is such a good kisser.” She gushes.

“Is he?” I laugh, “I’m just worried that someone will find out and blow your cover.”

“I know… We’re trying to figure out what to do, it’s been six months or so now and we both want more. He just can’t marry me because of Seoul Law. He doesn’t have a betrothal but is expected to marry someone of noble birth.” Lisette sighs.

“Perhaps, your title can change, as you and your mother did assist the Queen and Princess of Mariposa for a long time. Perhaps you can become a viscountess at my command…” I muse, Lisette’s eyes widen.

“How?! Tell me! What do I need to do?”

“Leave it to me, Amiga. Just because things are uncertain right now, your love doesn’t have to be. I’ll talk to Kyungsoo and see what I can possibly do about it.” I nod, feeling the onset of a headache gnawing at my temples. “I’m sorry, Lissy. I’m getting a headache. I’m going to lie down for a bit. Send me any updates about the relief aid, and your lover.”

“Oh, please don’t get stressed, okay? We’ll talk later!” Lisette smiles. I nod and make my way back to our chambers, sending a quick message to Kyungsoo.

alina amorcito, I’m getting a headache, Going to rest. I’m okay Love you <3

amorcito Oh… my poor darling. Please rest my love. I’ll come to check on you. Love u more <3

I wake up from my nap to the sound of commotion outside. I orient myself to my surroundings and get up to see what’s going on. I gaze out of the window and see a crowd of people entering the palace. People come and go quite frequently, but this is much different. I recognize the man and woman in the middle of the guards almost instantaneously. Pressure builds in my chest and the unease grasps at my throat, its claws sinking into me until the sound, color and shapes around me distort. Kyungsoo comes into view in my peripheral vision, curious eyes fill with concern as he looks at me.

“Princess?” He manages to say.

“What are they doing here?” I ask, demanding an answer. The only problem is my words are barely audible, my hands shaking in front of me.

“King Daniel, Queen Maria and their military generals are here for peace talks. Azteco’s military is on the outskirts of the border and threatening an invasion. My father invited them in hopes of ending tensions.” Kyungsoo says carefully.

“Why didn’t… You tell me?”

“I was informed last minute, Alina. Forgive me, but I wanted you to have a good night’s sleep for once. You finally got comfortable and I didn’t want your to needlessly worry. He can’t hurt you. I won’t let him even get the chance.” Kyungsoo moves toward me, and I can’t exactly stay mad at him for this. It’s hard to stay mad at him. I allow him to hold me and I regulate my breath to match his. I have to get through this somehow, at least Kyungsoo is by my side now.

“What do I have to do?”

“Eat a meal with him and your sister. That’s it. I’m sorry.” Kyungsoo looks down but I push his chin up to look me in the eye.

“I have to do this. The only difference between now and then is that I have you here with me. I know you won’t let any thing happen to me.” I reassure Kyungsoo, while simultaneously assuring myself. “I can’t run from him for the rest of my life.”

“What a warm welcome, King Bonhwa!” King Daniel bellows. Maria is silent beside him, smiling occasionally. I shake at the sound of his voice, my hands trembling behind my back. Kyungsoo grabs for one and holds it in his, caressing the skin on the web of my hand.

“Please be seated, everyone.” King Bonhwa cheerfully calls. “Isn’t this lovely! A family reunion for the Crown Princess!”

I politely nod and sit up straight, looking straight at my sister. Maria deviates eye contact and Kyungsoo squeezes my hand.

“It’s okay, I’m right here.” He whispers. “I won’t let him do anything to you.”

“I am delighted to see my sister again. It’s lovely to see you as well, King Daniel.” I politely reply. Ever the perfect princess you are, Alina. It drives me crazy that Daniel’s stupid phrases echo in my head.

“Ever so lovely to see you, beautiful princess.” King Daniel smirks, there it is. Maria sighs and puts on her best smile. I toy with my food and Kyungsoo keeps his eyes focused on the boisterous king, watching all of his moves intently as he booms with laughter and obvious candor. “Crown Prince! I hear you are quite the master of the sword. How did that come about? Tutors? Your servants fearing you? Your military letting you win?”

Kyungsoo stares hauntingly at Daniel, a gaze I’d never seen until tonight. If looks could kill, King Daniel would be as good as dead. Perhaps that isn’t that bad of an outcome… But I know something like that is impossible. Kyungsoo takes a bite of his fish and leans back in his chair, smirking. “Have you heard of the Seoul proverb about the man and the sword?”

“Humor me, Crown Prince.” I tense at the sound of Daniel’s tone changing, my hands are pressed together under the table with my nails digging into the flesh of my palm. Queen Hyunae and King Bonhwa look in between the two men exchanging tense glares. Maria scowls at my husband, obviously angered that a mere prince would insult a king in such a way. Maria had a complex and it was very apparent she had a need to protect her husband. Her eyes move to me and we make eye contact, but it falters.

“The wielder of the sword is not a gifted man, but one of great skill and self-control. The fool stabs himself many times attempting to bargain with the fate of the sword.” Kyungsoo responds in Aztecan, smiling.

“My son showed great skill on his own, King Daniel.” King Bonhwa responds, praising his son in rare form. It wasn’t often Bonhwa would offer compliments to Kyungsoo, but when it came to the honor of the Crown he would practically bow at the feet of his son. People weren’t difficult to read, you just had to look at the obvious. “Just like his ancestors, our dynasty was established by the valiant efforts of Doh Swordsman. The legacy of our Kings is in the merit of a sword.”

“Is that so? Why, I challenge you to a friendly duel, Crown Prince Kyungsoo. The Azteco People are descendants of Great Warriors. Perhaps your pretty princess can come see what true swordsmanship is.” Daniel challenges.

“I accept your challenge, Your Highness.” Kyungsoo grins deviously.

“Wouldn’t you enjoy that, Crown Princess Alina?” King Daniel coos the last few words to me. Kyungsoo reaches for my hand and draws circles around my knuckles, bringing me back down to earth. I nod gracefully and Kyungsoo leans onto the table.

“Queen Maria, would it be rude to request that you control your husband? He will not listen to a mere Crown Prince it seems. My wife is not a woman to be spoken to in such a manner.” Kyungsoo warns lowly, not caring about the scowls on his parent's face. This is the first time I’ve seen my husband like this, but I don’t mind it; it’s a welcomed change. He doesn’t give a damn about the titles people possess; he demands respect that is rightfully his. My anxiety rises and I turn to Kyungsoo.

“Crown Prince.” I gaze at my husband with concerned eyes, gently squeezing his bicep. Kyungsoo covers my hand with his, apologizing with his gaze.

“Of course, Crown Prince. However, he may not even listen to his own wife, it’s not something an Azteco King would do.” Maria pettily replies, attempting to touch King Daniel in the same way I touched Kyungsoo. King Daniel slides Maria’s hands away as servants take away our plates. Now I can tell the difference between fake affection and real affection. There really is no love between Daniel and Maria, never has been and never will be.

“Please, Your Highness. It was… Lovely dining with you, however, King Bonhwa and I have matters to discuss with yourself and the His Highness, King Daniel. Please, meet us in our study chambers.”

It’s odd that an absent King and trophy queen are the ones handling peace talks. Kyungsoo’s hand grips mine a little tighter, I know he’s upset. I know better than to intervene, so I softly squeeze his hand instead. Maria smirks and I look to Kyungsoo, a feral fixation on King Daniel takes his gaze. Maria glares at me, a hint of jealousy forming in her eyes as Kyungsoo makes it a point to wrap his arm around my waist, his thumb caressing my side softly. She watches as he turns to me, whispering softly in my ear. “Don’t let them sense your fear. You are strong, Princess. I’m so proud of you for making it through this dinner.”

I nod and show a quick smile before returning to listening to the conversation about swordsmanship.

I knew that Maria felt it wasn’t fair that I got betrothed to Kyungsoo. It was supposed to be her, but she wasn’t chosen by the Doh Dynasty. It wasn’t my fault, but she always made me feel like it was. Maria wouldn’t tell a soul that her marriage was arranged to make King Daniel look better. We all knew it but went along with the carefully curated story that it was a love match. Maria pressured our parents into it thinking she knew better about politics than a seasoned King and Queen.

When she got what she wanted, Maria lamented the day she married King Daniel. He was demanding, harsh and cruel.

Jealousy started to take root as I got older. Maria started saying she felt wronged by me and the Seoul Kingdom. She believed that I could have had anyone else I wanted. Though I would have preferred to have a love match, I’m happy with how things turned out. Maria rose and walked toward me, taking my hands.

“If you excuse us, your Highnesses, Crown Princess Alina and I have business to attend to. Send my apologies to King Bonhwa and Queen Hyunae for my tardiness, this is important.” Maria announces as she pulls me up and away to the guest chambers.

“Maria, what are you doing?” I ask, holding my sister’s hands. Maria breaks down into sobs, her knees folding underneath her. “Maria!”

“You, little sister, have made my life a living hell.” Maria grunts angrily. My eyes widen, I step forward and put a hand on Maria’s shoulder, but I get shaken off.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, like you don’t know! What did you do to Daniel?”

“Nothing! Are you accusing me the same way the tabloids have accused me of being an adulteress?”

Maria wipes her eyes and grabs my arms, squeezing as tight as she can. “No, but you couldn’t have just let him do what he needed to do? You couldn’t have said no to Crown Prince Kyungsoo? Believe it or not, you had the option to retract but you still chose to come here! Daniel has been collecting concubines instead of loving his wife. He’s obsessed with the thought of you, and it makes me sick! He told me how you’d allow him to visit you in the night. Why did you stop him? Why did you refuse him after a while? Now, he’s always upset and refuses me even more!”

“Maria!” I yell. “I never consented to those visits! I never wanted them! I am in love with Kyungsoo and now he can never have what King Daniel took! You wanted me to keep enduring the pain I felt every single night? How I would be disabled for days? Did he tell you about that part of the story? You wanted me to endure abuse for your benefit? What is wrong with you? What happened to you? I was a child!”

Silence forces its way between us, anger brooding in my soul. Maria’s breath staggers and her hands shake as I push her off of me. “It was you who chose to marry King Daniel knowing his accusations from around the world. He threatened me with my life if I ever told anyone what he did. You know the protocols! I had my voice taken from me and I will no longer be silent for your benefit or anyone else’s. It is obvious that he changed you. I am disgusted with you. I am ordering that you leave immediately. As soon as this visit is over, I never want to hear of your name or see you again.”

“Alina…”

“No! There’s no explanation! You’re sick in the head! You took sides with a monster. You reap the consequences. You are no longer my sister, but my enemy.” Haunted, I leave the guest chambers and hurry back to Kyungsoo but he’s nowhere to be found. He must be in the peace talks meeting, so I just take my leave and lock the doors to our chambers, feeling confident that the Lieutenants were probably close by.

I can’t sleep when I’m alone.

Kyungsoo and the military were pulled into an emergency strategy meeting, and I waited for him to come back for hours. A couple of hours ago, the Royal Guards were called away by Hyunae again, this is nothing new. Uneasiness and restlessness fills my chest as I get up and make the trek to the library to clear my head. As I enter the library, large hands grab my hips and shove me onto a wall. I yelp and look up to see Daniel, a dark gleam in his eye and a twisted grin forms on his face. I try to run away but he shoves me back onto the wall.

"My pretty, pretty Princess." He sneers, his grip tighter on my body.

"L-Let me go, Daniel." I shakily warn.

"Oh, come on. Don't be like that, Alina. I saw your reaction to me as I spoke to you tonight at dinner. You can’t keep me off of your mind despite being married to another man, can you?" Daniel reaches for my face and I turn away. Daniel holds on to my waist tighter, his nails digging into my skin.

"Stop! Let me go, please!” Daniel grabs my face and squeezes it tightly in his grasp.

"Have you no sense, Alina? Can't you see that I am deeply attracted to you? You feel much better than Maria does. Your sweet essence still lingers on my lips." Daniel leans his body onto mine and I squirm to be free of him. I can feel his breath on my neck, it is nausea inducing. The flashes of him coming into my room unwarranted and how terrifying it was every time he got into my bed haunted me. I felt used, disgusting.

"Daniel, no. I never wanted you. I-I love Crown Prince Kyungsoo. He is my husband. You are nothing but a disgusting-"

Daniel strikes me to the ground and hastily picks me up by my arm, dragging me to the other side of the library and throws me to the floor. He rips the shirt I’m wearing and all of Kyungsoo’s love marks are on display. Anger and jealousy flashes in his eyes as he hovers over me. "Ah, what’s this? Hm? You let that other man mark what’s mine? I'll show you not to be disrespectful to me. When I’m finished with you, pretty girl, he’ll never want to touch you again. You’re the People’s Princess, won’t you obey a king when he asks you to complete a task?"

“Alina? Darling?” I hear my name being called. Kyungsoo! "Princess, are you here?"

“Kyungsoo!” I yell. Daniel slaps me and his ring gets caught in my flesh and his nails puncture my skin. He snatches his hand away and I scream from the pain of his ring being ripped from my cheek. The door opens and Daniel panics, dodging my husband through the back door as I lay frozen on the floor, sobbing.

“Oh my God, Alina!” Kyungsoo rushes to my side and brings me into his arms. I hold onto him tightly, shaking more than I ever have before. “Darling, I’m right here, you’re safe.”

“K-Kyung… Soo… I’m sorry…” I sob. Kyungsoo gently takes his fingers under my chin and guides my tear-filled eyes to look at him. His eyes water at the sight of the gash on my face and what I’m assuming is bruising on my skin. “I shouldn’t have… I was… I…”

"Did that bastard do this to you?" Kyungsoo grits through his teeth angrily. I whimper and Kyungsoo takes a deep breath, blowing it out before returning his gaze to me. I show him my face and he touches the marks gently. I shake and nod quietly. Kyungsoo carries me back to our chambers and brings me to the bathroom, fishing for a first aid kit under the sink. I sit in silence as Kyungsoo cleans my cut, I didn’t even wince at the pain. “Darling, tell me what happened.”

“I… I couldn’t sleep. I was afraid to be in our room alone, I know the lieutenants were in the meeting with you. The Royal guards were called away by Hyunae… As usual. I thought that I would have been safe going to our library for a moment. I know I shouldn’t have left our chambers. I just couldn’t sleep and thought I would be safe in the library. Earlier tonight when Maria took me to speak privately, she confirmed that she is being treated terribly in that marriage, and she blames me for it. She… Said I should’ve allowed King Daniel to continue what he was doing… She knew about it and just allowed it to happen. I was walking and King Daniel grabbed me. He said he was attracted to me… That I was an obedient… Little girl… His nails cut my skin and his ring got caught in my cheek. He hit me to the ground. If you didn’t come when you did… He would’ve….” I sob and cuddle myself into Kyungsoo, he picks me up off of the edge of the bathtub and takes me to our bed. Kyungsoo sets me down and pulls the covers up. He turns to stand at the edge of the bed but I frantically pull him back.

“Princess, I should’ve protected you better. From now on the Lieutenants will be with you at all times. It was my error to have them with me when they would’ve been better off with you. I’m so sorry…” Kyungsoo huffs, guilt written all over his face as his finger moves over my wound on my face.

“Don’t be sorry. Please. I should’ve stayed here.”

“You should be able to go wherever you please without anxiety. It’s taking everything inside me not to find him and strangle his pathetic life out of his body. But… I know you need me, that’s more important. The duel is tomorrow. I’ll be sure to show him he can never mess with my princess, my wife, my love… ever again.” Kyungsoo’s gentle lips meet mine, relief cascades over me as he holds me tight to his body.

I don’t want him to fight my battles for me anymore. After the duel tomorrow, I have to take things into my own hands.

KYUNGSOO

I didn't sleep at wink last night. I didn't mind, it was worth it. I relied on adrenaline as I readied myself for King Daniel and our “friendly" duel. I knew I couldn’t kill him, that would be too easy, and too obvious. Certain rage filled me as Alina told me what this bastard had done to her for so many years. Guilt filled me, knowing that she was harmed and I treated her unfairly in the process.

“Son, before you go out there, may I have a moment?” Father walks into the Armory, hands clasped behind his back.

“If you came to talk me out of this, I’m standing firm.” I warn.

“No, Son. This… Is fairly important. I know you will make a statement today to King Daniel. You have been leading our Kingdom in my… absence.”

“I wasn’t aware that absence had a double meaning of cowardice.” I shoot back, I don’t want to hear what he has to say. Not today.

“There are things you still have yet to understand, Crown Prince. One of them being that I can no longer serve as king. I was waiting patiently for you to marry Crown Princess Alina and at least have an heir on the way to say this, but it’s time that you ascend the throne.” Father boldly proclaims, hints of anxiety seep through his words. I stop sharpening my sword and look up at him. He is an older man now. A man that I hardly respected, but nevertheless was my father, my king. Father is now the age Grandfather was when he stepped away from the Kingship. The details become glaringly clear, now I’ll have the title for my endless work.

“What does this mean, Father? Are you ill?” I pry, my thoughts immediately going to Alina. “What does this mean for Alina?”

“Son, I am a miserable man. I only kept this all going for your sake. I will not bring shame to the Crown, but your mother and I have decided to live our days as separate people, away from rulership. As much as she may not personally approve of the Crown Princess, she admittedly agrees that Alina is a strong woman, who would make a strong Queen. This may come as a surprise, I am aware. But we have things we need to fix in ourselves that need to be done privately, away from this war that our entire world is drowning in.” Father explains. My head spins.

“You’re choosing to focus on yourself when your people need you? You pick right now to inform me that you’re handing the Crown to me? You should have done this months ago. You were always a damn coward. You’ll never be anything else.” I hiss, bowing my head. I mock my own politeness, gazing in irritation at Father. “It is of the highest honor to be a better king that history will remember for all the right reasons.”

“Kyungsoo, Son…”

“Leave. Grandfather must be rolling in his grave with how selfish you are. I’ll figure out a coronation as soon as possible, that will be none of your concern.” I finish, returning to sharpening my sword. My anger fuels me even more to assert my position with Daniel. I wasn’t expecting to be King this early into my marriage. I also wasn’t expecting Mother to be so okay with forfeiting her crown. There must be another man, there has to be. I don’t care anymore. They can revel in their own stupidity. My only focus right now is making a statement: no one can touch my darling Alina and get away with it.

I walk to the center of the Training Grounds. I search for her in the stands. When I see her, the world around me gets its color. Every single sign of bruising or cuts were covered with makeup. It killed me to see it, but it had to be done. Lisette is next to her, Lieutenant Jongdae and Lieutenant Sehun are on either side of them. I’d ordered them to not leave her side while this duel happens. In front of them are Baekhyun, Yixing and Chanyeol, my princess is perfectly safe. Her gorgeous eyes dart between me and my idiotic opponent on the other end of the Grounds. Her hands are folded, she shivers in the cold spring morning air. I pace over to her, taking my scarf from my neck. I won’t be needing it anyway.

“You’re shivering, Princess.” I kneel in front of her and wrap the scarf around her neck, making sure to cover her as best as I can. Baekhyun scoffs at me, I stare at him in confusion.

“Oh, you can take his scarf but not mine, Princess?” He crosses his arms in mock hurt.

“I didn’t want your scarf, Duke Baekhyun.” Alina replies. “I have my husband to keep me warm.”

“Ahhh, so cute. So nauseating.” Lisette jokingly rolls her eyes. “Is it true that the King challenged Kyungsoo over dinner?”

“It’s true.” Alina nods. Chanyeol leans back, chuckling to himself.

“Oh, if he only knew what he did when he challenged our Crown Prince Kyungsoo.” Yixing adds with a confident smile. Alina unfortunately had only heard the borderline propaganda stories of my accolades and fighting style, it almost felt like it was part of the whole betrothal package. I shake my head at her and stand, leaving a kiss on her hand before I walk back to the center of the Grounds. I pace and center my thoughts on just beating this man to a pulp because killing him is not an option. I watch the pathetic King from a distance, studying him. He’s surrounded by guards, and this humors me.

“What an honor it is to play knight with the alleged Dark Horse of Seoul.” King Daniel taunts. I roll my eyes and watch Daniel as he approaches me confidently. The King smirks and points the swords edge at me. "You, my brother-in-law, will soon understand the valiant nature of the Azteco people today, no matter how much skill you may think you have."

I clash my sword with Daniel's to get it out of his face, annoyed. I refuse to start this respectfully, I don’t bow to him, and he doesn’t bow to me. That’s fine. I don’t need his respect. "It is my honor to prove otherwise, King Daniel."

We begin to circle each other; I grip the sword's handle and twirl it at my side. This is exactly what I wanted, it's what I need to do to get my point across. Anger boils in my chest and I spit on the ground near King Daniel’s feet. The Royal Guards disperse. I narrow my eyes at the King, mentally confirming my alibi if I decide to stab him in the heart.

"You won the Valencian jackpot, didn't you? With that pretty little thing as your wife." Daniel smirks, speaking quickly in Aztecan. "You know, Crown Prince Kyungsoo, Little Crown Princess Alina had a crush on me for the longest time? It was cute, really. She'd dress up just for me and wear naughty things only my eyes would see-"

"Keep the Crown Princess’ name out of your disgusting mouth." I heatedly growl. "I know what you did, you disgusting piece of shit."

King Daniel chuckles and we begin to clash our swords, Daniel initiates the aggression. My defense allowed no room for error, each step I took had a purpose. "I haven't a clue what you speak of, Crown Prince. I can't understand you… Your Aztecan is embarrassingly terrible. She'd beg me for attention, what a needy, naughty girl."

That’s it.

I charge forward and launch an all-out assault against Daniel. The so-called man, a King of a Warrior Nation can barely wield a sword. Daniel swings his sword and I duck, kicking his ankle to knock him off balance. I growl angrily and hit my sword against Daniel's, struggling for dominance. My anger boils as I stare in the eyes of Alina’s abuser. I hear the whispers of how feral I look, unwilling to let Daniel get up. The murmurs of my eyes and how they turn black, how someone of my stature and status battles like a true soldier and not a baby-faced Crown Prince roll off of my shoulders. I don’t care. All that matters is my opponent begs for mercy and I won't stop until Daniel is either dead or heeds my warnings.

"You naive boy, so naive. She probably hasn't spread those pretty legs for you the same way she did with me, huh?"

I slice Daniel's arm in a fit of blind rage and jab Daniel's chest with the handle of my sword. I enjoy the sound of his screams, its payback. My fist collides with his temple and face without let up until the King is on the ground, covered in blood. Daniel screams in pain and I flip the sword to point the edge to his pitiful throat. "Listen, King Daniel. Never will you go near my Alina again. If you dare to disobey me, you will wish you never crossed my path or laid a finger on my Princess. I will kill you with my bare hands and have absolutely no regrets. Understood?"

"Wh-What-What are you talking about?" Daniel nervously chuckles.

"I said is that understood you bastard?!" I glare into Daniel's eyes, all logic leaving my head. The thought enters my mind to end him now. The dukes whisper to each other as to what possessed me to react this way. If only they knew. Now, my reputation proceeds me and Daniel knows it. I press the blade onto Daniel's neck and the injured king shouts out, tears in his eyes.

"U-U-Uh-Understood."

"I'm sorry. I couldn't understand you." I hiss mockingly and presses the blade further, just enough to dent the skin.

"I said I understood!" King Daniel screams.

I pause and put my sword in its sheath and offer my hand to the King on the ground. "Good. I'm glad we understand each other."

Daniel uneasily takes my hand and I squeeze it, helping the beaten king to stand. "I meant what I said, not a word about Alina. You are not allowed near her or to even speak of her. Get it through your thick skull, if you don't it will be me holding your pathetic life in my hands and your nation's crown."

“Is that a threat?” Daniel musters.

“It is a promise.” I hiss.

“We’ll see who comes out of this a victor, Crown Prince. Not only were your pathetic father’s peace talks a sham, so are your empty promises. I’m not stopping until I get what I want.”

“We’ll see about that.” I laugh, rolling my eyes. I walk off of the Training Grounds and into my private changing room and ignore the calls to come back.

All except for one.

“Kyungsoo!” Alina’s eager voice caresses my ears and I turn, catching my princess in my arms. Her legs wrap around my waist and her smile weakens me. She takes my face in her hands and kisses me. She rests her forehead against mine, not caring how sweaty or dirty I was. “You truly are amazing, love. You are.”

I set Alina down and kiss her hand. “It was my honor, darling.”

“I couldn’t possibly begin to find a way to repay you, Amorcito…”

Alina looks deeply into my eyes and my, my… She can make my world stop with her gorgeous, earth toned eyes. She nods softly with happy tears falling down her cheeks. I kiss each one, gently spreading kisses across her face until our lips lock. I lean her onto the wall and hold her body close to mine, enjoying each second of our connection.

“Princess… You are everything to me. Everything. There is no need to repay me. I did this because I love you, and you deserve justice. I don’t care what that pathetic excuse of a man does from here on out, I will find a way to defeat him. You are my motivation. You are my reason, my love.” I helplessly confess in between soft kisses.

“Kyungsoo…” Alina wavers with unease. “So, the rumors are true. I heard your father in the stands discussing it with your mother. You’re becoming King.”

“News spreads quickly…” I mutter.

“What does… That mean for me? Considering your mother…”

I smile and get on one knee in front of Alina, lowering my head and kissing her hands. I look up at her and hope my response will soothe her anxiety.

“My Queen…” I whisper. Her eyes widen and I kiss her hands again. “I wouldn’t ascend without you, darling.”

“This is all so fast, and I don’t know if I could be a good Queen and… and… Kyungsoo!” Alina shouts as I lift her over my shoulder and into the changing room, locking the door. My lips brush onto hers with ease, I press her against the door and just focus on her lips and holding her close. I briefly take myself away from our kiss, as much as I didn’t want to.

“Love… You’re going to be the best Queen history has ever seen. I’m honored that it’s you that will be ruling by my side. What happened today on these grounds is just the start of my plans. We’re going to win this war and have peace. For our kingdom. For us.” I say gently onto her lips. I have to ease her into this or she’s going to crumble.

“But… It’s dangerous to do a public coronation now…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it all. We have to do this because my father surmised it would be better that I am in this position. Mother is eagerly awaiting giving up the crown. I’ll make you the happiest Queen to have ever lived. I know this is all incredibly fast but anything can happen in a time like this.”

“I know… I know. love you, my King.” Alina whispers in a sultry tone.

“And I love you, my Queen.” I whisper back, connecting our mouths again, “nothing and no one will ever get to you again. We’re not playing by anyone else’s rules anymore. They’re ours now.”

Ours.

I love how that sounds.

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daryascurse · 3 months

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darya please your mermaid event is EVERYTHING I am humbly asking to partake!!!! may I please ask for aot, mermaid, scale colour prolly green?? omg I’m excited thank u angel!!!

Marrrr... oh you deserve a refreshing green sea summer ...

Below the currents, deep in the hidden depths of the Indian Ocean, you rule your kingdom with your prince Reiner devotedly by your side. He has built your palace by hand, painstakingly raising columns of marble in a neverending labyrinth; weaving kelp crowns in his deft fingers, ardently seeking to adorn you and gift you a haven. The turtles and dugongs are your companions in this underwater paradise, and the rough, cascading waves sing - that I might see with my chest and sink into the edges round you, into the lakes and quarries that brink on all the edges round you, round you...

want a mermaid matchup and moodboard ?

#thank you for playing mermaids with me! 🫧#waah i couldn't find a good crown pic - and reiner too is never satisfied - they're never good enough - to show the honor you deserve #so he makes them and he searches for treasures in shipwrecked depths to add to each crown but it's never enough for him #you ride on the waves on the back of sea turtles and golden together beneath the sun <333 #order up for:#marleysfinest #water dividers by plum98

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beedreamscape · 10 months

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The Shard is a perfect parallel to the Crown of Barbed Vision

It's evidently dangerous

You can't even fucking hold it without hurting yourself

It'll never reach the right hands because there isn't any right hands for it

It was semi-safe before you took it, you've had opportunities to get rid of the burden of carrying it safely but you all refused

You don't have to keep it or take it or use it...

You all insist on keeping it and keeping it and keeping it-

One of you won't resist the offer of power. One of you won't be able to abdicate that power after you do.

And I am really hoping someone eligible bites the fucking bullet and takes it in

#cr spoilers #did i say i love ExU???#i hope opal shows up very very soon #physically sick with longing for the crown keepers #anyway #critical role #bells hells #the crown keepers #rambles #i don't have as many mixed feelings about as everyone else #i WANT it to be there. to corrupt. to empower. to put personal desires and ambitions into play. to expose #it's the button ashton dared to push and i don't judge him for it. also it created juicy divide the group was in need of #I NEED ASHTON AND OPAL TO TALK

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kyoghurts · 3 months

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WHO FELL FIRST, WHO FELL HARDER ft. mashle various!

self explanatory title — starring mash, finn, lance, dot, lemon, orter, rayne, kaldo, abel, abyss.

✹ MASH BURNEDEAD

who fell first : you

who fell harder : him

it didn’t take two to furnish a soft spot for mash in the home of your heart where you’re built of little pieces of people you deeply care about, a home with a little bit of everything, full of love in each brand of its own from others who give.

but mash is the first to make you want to give your own love, a brand that you call yours, the one that’s unique and careful and gentle. and who is he to not fall for you? hell, it made him collapse into you more. the moment you said you want that kind of peaceful life with him if life grants you the opportunity, who is he if not the one who’ll do anything to make it happen? thats it. you bagged a sweetheart with a killer streak who’ll treat you right. who’ll be your loving and thoughtful partner for life, even if he has no experience in his bones, his wants shall move him in places towards a home built for two, your pieces and his pieces together in a mismatch of furniture and miscellaneous. who’ll live a domestic dream where you spend your days doing mundane things and learning mundane parts of each other.

✹ FINN AMES

who fell first : him

who fell harder : both of you

ah, the high school sweethearts with shy slips of gazes in class and tender chase of each other's fingers in private little pockets of the universe. he fell in love with your caring personality, and he fell even more with the way you fell for him. he didn’t think it’d be possible, but every day, his love grows, and your radiance (who brightens even the most dimly lit person, like his brother, as he introduces you to rayne as confident as he can get.) is the cause of it. you're both each other's sun, orbiting until you’re inseparable.

✹ LANCE CROWN

who fell first : him

who fell harder : you

CONTRARY TO POPULAR BELIEF, and if we're not speaking in canon—which i'm 98% sure he'll never have eyes to anyone as he's committed to his goals with his whole life, to the point he's considered (and is) a siscon—but if you manage to land on the 2% which can be a talent, then, congrats! it's automatic that he'd fall for you first, there's something about you that makes you so special, like his sister, but not entirely a form of figure that he idolizes or worship. with time, he sees you in a way that's real, different from the version he constructs in his head. you’re full of flaws and so human, that he didn't imagine himself wanting to take care of you but also see you stand in your light, to bask in your human warmth and win your heart.

once you unravel the six layers of boundaries beneath him, again, it's a talent of sorts that you must've had since you were born, it feels like you're starting to understand him—among many weird traits, you know he has a good heart, a very strong one that he carries by himself, and slowly but surely, you want to hold it with him together. just as he gradually do with yours.

✹ DOT BARRETT

who fell first : him

who fell harder : him

the most loyal to lemon, ever falling for you instead? outrageous, but listen: similarly to lance, i think he's never felt real with anyone other than you. there's so many things in life he hasn't experienced yet, but the lines in his palm are full of firsts, with you, he realizes a lot about himself because of you, and he doesn't regret wanting you. truly, he knows there's a lot to learn, he may do some rash decisions and profess his love but he won't say it, he wants to cherish you even if he'll end up with nothing. he's all for it. he's all for you.

✹ LEMON IRVINE

who fell first : you

who fell harder : you (and eventually, she does too.)

breaking the canon once again. i won't say it's impossible, but i won't say it's easy either. simple, sure, you love her bubbly and affable disposition, she takes you in with grace, but what comes after knowing she's dead set on mash? you'll follow the hopeless romantic lane! and the more you hear her ramble about her love and how she has her moments of fearlessness and courage because of him, who are you to take that away from her?

but things can get a little complicated once she starts missing your presence when you purposely tried to avoid her, to distance yourself physically, though your heart still reaches for her in a yearning ache. when her eyes seemed to drift off to yours more frequently than mash, something in you is cruel enough to take the chance. something in you wells with craving happiness you've been holding back for so long. greedy, you almost didn't recognise yourself, but little did you know that she's going through the same thing. albeit more obliviously.

✹ ORTER MADL

who fell first : him

who fell harder : you (or both, not that he’d admit it)

you're so high up your arse that he can't stand you. but you tell him the same thing as if it hasn’t drilled into his brain yet, you treat him like a child in his emo phase and he treats you like a nagging old person thinking they know everything there is to exist. but what should have he expected from you when you’re both assigned to a mission that he’s certain he can carry himself? definitely not him commending your strength afterwards. and even as far as to check up on your accidental wounds because of his teeny tiny carelessness (because he was in awe, actually, just by a glimpse. how you took charge of the situation, how you didn’t let a second slip past your fingers, taking the slits of skin instead as the criminal went for him. how you protected his back throughout the entire time), he feels a slight pang of guilt in his chest, though perhaps that's not the sole reason he wanted to see you.

it didn’t felt right anymore when you’re not there, or when you remain quiet despite his usual taunts or off-handed remarks, the ones that always catch your attention the most. after what happened, he seemed to feel uneasy with your silence, so when he learned that his strategy isn’t working any longer, he pulls a chair across where you sit in the common room and demands you to talk to him. about what? about anything, about you, about that drink/tea you’re savouring in your hands, about what’s going on in that little head of yours.

you liked this side of him, so every night when given the opportunity, you both exchange something about yourselves for the sake of releasing inexplicable tension sitting uncomfortably between you, orter being the selfish one as he dodges certain question that touches a bit too personal for him. but that made you all the more closer to him, continuously asking and staying curious to your feet.

eventually, he starts sitting beside you, your voice trickling so soft in his ears that altered some sort of his brain chemistry, melting his senses until he’s too drunk in your presence to pull himself back as he confess to you. when you smile, all teeth and teasing, he thinks he’s too far gone to even regret any of this. he doesn’t regret falling for you. (and even more when you say the feeling’s mutual. though he’d rather die soon than admit it to you.)

✹ RAYNE AMES

who fell first : you

who fell harder : him

the man you so love since your first year in this academy, but you love him more as your friend, you love the simplicity of platonic affection. you ignore your longing to be his, pushed at the ends of the belly of emotions. but it comes up springing back when he did achieve his dreams to be one of the DVs. when you congratulate him, told him how you’re proud, that you missed him and his bunnies that he, on certain occasions, allows you to take care of them. it feels like you’re repeating your days back to square one, that you’re falling in love again like the first few moments you’ve spent with him. like there’s a beginning but no end to the story, circling back around tiptoeing into love’s intricate game.

and rayne, thing is, he doesn’t know what to make of you. so he tried to build some distance between you in hopes of letting the hammering feeling in his chest subside, like it’s killing him; but when you do show up at his doorstep, sweet words on your tongue, he wonders if it’s alright to admire you; whole and unnerving to even think about. but he does. and then he asks you how you’ve been during the time he was busy, how he’s lost in his thoughts as he commits you to memory, his hands tracing up your arm and finds itself cupping your jaw, fingers curling to the shape of your neck as you lose your voice. unable to speak.

he kisses you tenderly and he thinks it’s not his beating heart’s the one responsible for killing him, but rather the distance that he stupidly created because of his wrong assumptions. stupid rayne, he’s head over heels and no one is ever going to catch him if its not you.

✹ KALDO GEHENNA

who fell first : you

who fell harder : him (really? thats unlikely. he argues, the blush warming the tips of his ears takes it away though.)

you can’t really find yourself treating him seriously outside of your work, especially with his tendencies to offer you strange foods in awful levels of sugar, almost killed you at one point. it’s silly of him, and some part of you is pulled by this. it makes him more weirdly interesting than just the looks; though you’re not one to lie, that face of his is really kissable to you.

he trusts you, like, a lot. there’s more to you than simply being the devil of cunning (you two are on par with the title, but he feels as if you deserve it more). he gave you ample amount of times and opportunity to backstab and ruin him, you have the sort of reputation for doing these things, and you would’ve done it by now but you didn’t. something about that moves him in some way, maybe he’s special? maybe you like him? the thought could make him go crazy, as if your eyes on him doesn’t drive him enough. and oh, who keeps pestering you now when you’re supposed to be discussing your next agenda together, you’re never late. is he jealous? perhaps so, and when you burst into the door and explain that you had to take care of some unexpected business along the way, his throat is burning to ask you who’s bothering you. he’ll take care of it himself. no more excuses afterwards. just you and your eyes on him alone.

✹ ABEL WALKER

who fell first : him (secretly, also you.)

who fell harder : both of you.

he first felt it when you gave him a box of chocolates when he said something about having cravings, then the times you’ve offered to eat together and the times he accepted. when you brought him a soothing rub when he says he’s having headaches these days. it’s gradual, and almost sacred to look back on. but he loves it, when you said you want to do things for him without reason, there’s nothing to prove that you’re lying. your honesty is his weakness, your thoughtfulness is his medicine, and your kindness is his lost language he’s trying to find again, for you.

he offers dinner with you, and speaks of wanting this forever. wanting you, for as long as he’s able to, for as long as you want to.

you gift him a tear of happiness, cheeks damp and glowing under the amber light of the restaurant, he thinks you’re beautiful, he tells you this. and you smile like nothing else matters and my god he’ll do anything. he’ll do the things the same way you have; without conditions and expectations. without reasons that can translate the weight of his love, it will be experienced like an unwritten poetry but have spoken through your heart.

✹ ABYSS RAZOR

who fell first : you

who fell harder : him

early blue dawn is poured and soaked in the outlines of abyss’s figure with golden blaze and gleaming eyes and his hair is messy, still tangled with sleep. you watched the sunrise with him because days ago he told you he never saw one in his life before, and you stayed true to your words that you’d find a way to sneak outside school grounds and carve a spot for the view. it’s pretty, he realises, but is he talking about the sun, or about you? as he drifts to your peaceful expression, eyes still heavy ridden of sleep?

you turn to look up at him, cold wind engulfing you in its embrace, it does little to settle the warmth kindling within you. you like him enough to let your tomorrows decide with abyss always in mind. at first, you thought it’s just you being a good friend, but later on you’re starting to enjoy his presence so much that you’d rather have your time spent doing nothings and everythings with him, rather than deny the desire that you know you’ll regret holding back.

he would’ve flicker his gaze away if not for the fact that you tell him it’s okay. he hears this affirmation everyday until it starts to knock his unconscious wherever he goes, whatever he does. it’s okay to feel sad, its okay if you don’t want to, it’s okay to be with me- then now, he sees you smile and tell him i hope you’re okay with me, as if he already isn’t with you. he gets a little misty, and he thinks he’s fallen for you completely. he whispers, i want to be okay for you, too.

taglist. @seneon @caelivir @dr-felitas @luvmequmi

it got longer & sappier in the end 🫠 ajhsjkhsjh

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charlotte-of-wales · 2 years

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Via the Danish Royal House:

We are looking forward to the decisive match in a little while. Go, Denmark! 🇩🇰⚽️

The pictures were taken by Crown Princess Mary

#a house divided #aussie mom vs dane children #darf #danish royal family #crown prince frederik #prince christian #prince vincent #november 2022

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milky-aeons · 4 months

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[4] — PLAYING WITH STARFIRE

warnings: depression, suicidal ideation, poor eating habits, sexual content allusions, violence, suggestive themes, fem!reader, class differences, social hierarchy, misogyny, w.c 7.5k

౨ৎ . . . chapter FOUR of CROWNS OF STARDUST

"The future will be gorgeous and reckless, and words, those luminous charms, will set us free again."

— Carole Maso

Even though the Prince was left in the most dramatic of fashions, he wasn't alone for long. Inside the the archway appeared the owner of the room he was using — an owner that looked less than impressed; his golden brow raised and teeth poking in a snarl.

"How many times have I told you, Dazai, not to use my Study for your unsavoury pastimes?"

Brown eyes twinkled when Dazai smiled at the Secretary to his Father's Throne. His smile quickly turned into an exaggerated drawl. "Hah, why is it that you sound more and more like my Father each day, Kunikida-kun~?"

A grumble was all the Prince was offered. Kunikida Doppo, even though he was speaking harshly to the Future King of the Throne he oversaw, didn't hesitate to scold him regardless. They shared too much history together. First-name basis instead of titles was normal between them at this point.

Kunikida, with a tempered glare, walked into his Study and over to the desk. "I happened to pass a particular Lady-in-Waiting on my way here," He ventured.

"Oh?"

"She had tears streaked down her face."

"Heh, is that so?"

Kunikida wasn't at all surprised. If anything, the secretary was more surprised that Dazai had allowed the "relationship" with Rosette Smith to go on as long as it did. The moment he bumped into the red-headed woman on his way back to his Study Kunikida had let out a ragged sigh. Because not only was his Prince slacking off his duty and using his workroom to do so, but he was breaking women's hearts also. In that cold, detached way he always had.

A particular stack of papers on his table made Kunikida do a double-take. At least two inches worth of correspondence letters due to be sent out today. Kunikida knew exactly of their contents, seeming as though he spent a sleepless night writing them. And with that knowledge came the fact that he had also asked a particular useless First Prince to sign off on them, only a few hours prior.

And what was his monarch deciding to do instead?

Without warning, Kunikida took one of the heavier letters meant for the Ko Kingdom and thwacked it right off of the Prince's head.

"Ah!"

"You good for nothing monarch!" He hissed. Composure was a special thing to a Court Secretary, and yet Dazai always had a unique way to make his break right down. "I asked only for your signatures! Your signatures, First Prince of my Kingdom, and you could not even do that!"

Whining, Dazai rubbed at the spot he had been struck. "Agh, Kunikida-kun. Do you think it wise to strike your future King...?"

As if he heard none of it, Kunikida raised the paper again with gritted teeth. He wasn't one bit afraid of this man — friend, debatably — and Dazai wasn't serious in his threat. Although he was quick to dodge another swing directed his way.

"How could you—" Whoosh, paper slicing through air. "Be a King—" Whoosh. Dazai took refuge behind a table. "Of a Kingdom." Whoosh. "If you won't even complete your respectable duties!" Whoosh, whoosh.

"Respectable duties are boring, Kunikida-ah!" Blindsided by his anger, the livid Secretary had knocked his chair onto the floor and narrowly missed Dazai by the curls of his hair. There was no weaponry letter on him anymore. Kunikida was really going for his Prince with long, strangling fingers. "Kunikida-kun! Why not have some sympathy for me?"

A growl, akin to a feral animal, was the all the sympathy Prince Dazai was going to receive.

Dazai dove across the table purposely, knocking over ink pots and correspondence pages until they existed only as a black-splattered mess against the floorboards. At that, Kunikida froze, staring at his hours of work from last night exist as nothing but saturated ink parchments on the floor.

Slowly he looked up to Dazai. This demonic waster of his sleeping hours.

He had a rueful smirk on his face.

"Ah. Ink is difficult to get out of the floorboard. Will I call a Maid, Kunikida-kun?"

"You—!"

"But luckily, because I'm a great liege, I saved what I could." In his white-gloved hand, Dazai produced a small booklet that Kunikida kept secured on him like a holy scripture. Unbeknownst to Kunikida the Prince had secret, sly ways of swiping from his pockets when he wasn't looking. Or, in this case, a blinding fit of rage. "You still make a habit of carrying this around, hmm?"

The Secretary balked, and just as quickly did he move when he saw his Notebook in his hand.

"Hand that over—"

"Let's see, what has dear Kunikida-kun have to do today? Wooing lovely Court Women? Ah! It says here you wish to embezzle my Father's funds."

"I have no such plans in there!"

"Guard-san~!" Dazai hollered loudly. "Ready a message for The King! Tell him his trusted Secretary is being untruthful with his accounts—!"

Two strong, furious hands balled into the Prince's white frock and he was slammed against the wall beside the open door. Air knocked from his chest with a grunt, and when he focused his eyes he was met with the terrifying wrath of an irritated Throne Secretary. It made amusement brew in his chest, for Kunikida Doppo was always an easy man to rile up.

"Shut up," Kunikida hissed. "If you're good for anything you'll shut up."

Dazai's lips curved. With a raised brow, he couldn't help but push on his buttons just a little further.

"My, my, Kunikida-kun. I'm beginning to think your work is keeping you from women for too long." He dropped his voice to a teasing whisper. "What'll the Guard who's scurrying here think if you have me pinned up against a wall?"

An unnatural talent the First Prince had; anything he noticed, even if it was quiet sounds or slight changes in surroundings, always told him way more than what a normal human would pinpoint. So Kunikida took him on his word. As if he was a branded iron, the secretary released his Prince right at the moment a Guard came bustling through the door.

"Y-Your Highness!" He exclaimed when he saw the dishevelled hair and clothes of the Prince. "What—?"

"Never mind, I am quite alright." Dazai waved him off, although the way he reached up to rub at his chest made the Guard hesitate. Laughing in a slight wheeze, he said, "You are asked to leave."

The confused Guard knew better than to disobey direct orders. With a small, unsure nod did he turn out of the room and return to his original post.

The confused Guard knew better than to disobey direct orders. With a small, unsure nod did he turn out of the room and return to his original post. When they were certain they were alone once more and allowed to speak comfortably, Kunikida redirected his glare onto the First Prince.

"My Notebook. Give it here."

"Is your deepest, darkest desires documented in here and that's why you're so protective over it? Detailed plans on what you would like to do in a private bedroom—?"

One quick thrust of his hand and Kunikida swiped his Notebook back. "Even if I did, I hardly think you would take any interest in it."

"Hmm? Of course I would~ You're my future Right Hand, after all."

"And you are the Prince who decides to drown himself in women than complete anything expected from his position in this Kingdom."

An exaggerated whine. "You never hold back, do you Kunikida-kun?"

"As Secretary, it would be unlawful for me to hold back. Especially when it comes to wasteful Princes such as yourself." Daggers of grey that made Guards, Officials, even some Diplomats of neighbouring Kingdoms falter drilled into the brunet's head. Of course, because he was Prince Dazai, he didn't even flinch. If anything — it made him grin.

Another curious question flitted into Dazai's mind. A whisper in the halls paired with the group of maids he had waved at today. "If I'm not mistaken, you have just chosen the new recruiting Maids today, have you not?"

Kunikida's jaw tightened, released with a sigh. He took a moment to pick up a soiled parchment quietly before muttering; "You are not mistaken."

"Heh? Why does it sound like you have not overseen Maids, but a bunch of stubborn-minded Page-boys?"

"Stubborn-minded Page-boy," At his Prince's description, Kunikida couldn't help the dry chuckle that came over him. A particular strong-willed, blue-eyed Maid who dubbed their Castle one of Thieves came to mind. Now how would she react, if she heard anyone call her a name that suited her personality so well?

"She's probably burn the Castle down..." Kunikida said without realising.

Dazai's eyebrow raised. "Who?"

"Ah—nothing. My thoughts spoke without permission. Forget it."

"Oh, no! Do tell, I don't think I've heard to speak of a woman before!"

Kunikida grumbled. He had attracted the attention of his meddlesome First Prince, there was no escaping it now. Placing the parchments back down, he took a breath.

"There are some Maids," Some, because if he named her, his Prince will decide it his business to use her to mess with him. "Who have more pride than manners in the new recruitments."

The First Yo Prince had another trait about him that made him equal parts useful and terrifying. Especially when it came to interrogating enemies of the Province. No one can deceive him. Lying to this man was as fruitless as it was dangerous. In this case, if Dazai knew his future Secretary was lying to him, he did not show it. All his expression showed was subtle amusement; lips curved and hand coming up to tap his cheek.

"Now, your schedules surely can't take that, can it? What'll you do?"

"There is nothing to do, yet. Perhaps working in a stressful environment where she's expected to constantly be mannerly will solve any current problems."

Secretary Kunikida Doppo was a sharp and intelligent man, but he was far from the most acute in the room. He had just exposed the real truth; that it was not a group of maids that had more will than manners, but a single maid. Kunikida hadn't realised his slip-up, but Dazai had. The cunning Prince decided to keep his silence, internally mulling over a potentially curious situation unfolding in front of him.

A woman who could shake his constantly up-strung Secretary?

Now, wouldn't she be an interesting lady to meet?

"What are you spacing out like that for, useless Prince?"

The Prince gave none of his thinking away. Instead, he smiled at his future Secretary. That constructed Princely smile that was as much of a mask as everything else he fixed his expression into.

"No reason~"

The walls of grey continued to bore him with their obnoxious golden embellishments and lavish paintings of Royalty as he strode down them. Many of the oil masterpieces were of his Father King Dietrich, although there were also a generous few of him. Back when he was younger and a lot more sheltered under the watchful eyes of Court Officials — his eyes an unapologetic emotionless stare, mouth a consistent straight line.

Prince Dazai at fifteen years of age was only coming to realise the emptiness in his soul. It would take him a few more years to learn how to shield it from prying Officials under false smiles and pretences.

"Director~!"

The Prince flickered his attention from the walls to the Guard standing still in front of him, greeting him fondly. Tasked with one of the most important roles in the Yo Palace; the Captain of their Cavalry was the lone trusted individual to guard his room. Although Dazai took a liking to calling him the strange nickname Director, unlike Captain or General. His Guard never once complained about the oddly respected title he was given by his Prince.

"My Prince." Fukuzawa Yukichi inclined his head.

"Anything interesting happen while I was away?"

"There is nothing to report."

Dazai pouted, sighing in that over-grandiose way of his. "Such a shame."

Fukuzawa made no other move to engage the Prince in conversation. Perhaps if he was off duty he would enjoy speaking to his Highness, because it was no small secret that his wicked mind could produce the most fascinating of conversations. But now, the Captain was still on duty until the last ray of sunset. Letting his guard down while protecting the future King of Yo is something a respectable Knight simply did not do.

Despite knowing such, Dazai lingered at the doorway. His main Guard always had a keen way to entertain him in the walls of his grey Palace, after all. But being the man Director was, his duty came before his personal relationships, so with a small laugh did Dazai push the doors of his bedroom open and step inside.

Into the four walls of his bedroom. One with his untouched bed and barely eaten food he received four times a day. Everything and everyone treated him as the worthy, respected Prince he was meant to be, and yet. And yet—

"A woman who has more pride than manners," The Prince chose to ask instead. To the ghosts that resided in his room. "Could Kunikida-kun finally have met his match, hmm?"

His answer was received by the gentle breeze that tossed the zephyr-like cashmere curtains and teased the crystals of the chandelier. Dulcet tinkles carried through the expansive area. An area that his Father drowned out in wealth befitting of a Prince.

One that made his thoughts so very loud.

Dazai dropped his hands from where he outstretched them to his sides. "Well, why do I believe a chandelier could answer me, anyway?" It was a whisper through his unreadable, vague simper. If anybody listening to him as a man with a man's voice, they would undoubtedly shiver at the empty, hollow tone around his words. But if they heard them from the Prince's mouth with the Prince's voice, they would think it a joke. The Prince of the Yo Kingdom was naturally charismatic and charming individual to his people.

No Kingdom would be at peace if the people came to know that their Prince was truly a cynical, pessimistic individual who saw life as nothing more but a means to and end.

"Perhaps that is why Father drapes me in wealth," His shoes echoed as he walked aimlessly towards his window. "It makes me appear not as I seem—"

Something snapped his attention from his monologue.

Oh, well what have we got here?

Situated near his window was a gift offered to him by the one man he ever truly called his friend. The only man who allowed him to be himself, and talk of the thoughts that ceased to exist in his mind without the shield of a respectable Kingdom monarch. Gorgeously ornate and handcrafted, the chessboard he received before leaving Ko after his time there did not appear in the way he left it.

A pawn.

One single pawn of the white side had been moved. Not obscurely, but a mere tile above where it should be. A common first move in a game of chess. With a raising brow did Prince Dazai come closer to the board. He knew he would have never moved the piece, not of this chessboard. Dazai had not touched this gift in four long years, for a private reason of his own.

"Director?" He called, loud enough to permeate through the door.

It opened in an impressive heartbeat.

"My Prince?" Fukuzawa's strong voice.

Keeping his eyes trained on the pawn, he asked; "I assume you have not taken a sudden liking to the idea of chess?"

At his strange question, the greying Captain hesitated ever so slightly. "I am familiar with the rules, but I doubt I would last against you."

"Have some faith in yourself, Director. You've never played me~"

"Why are you asking, My Prince?"

Dazai was about to ask him who had been in his room prior to him, decided to dismiss it instead. "It is nothing. Merely curious. You may return to your duty."

Fukuzawa wasted no time in returning to his outpost. When Dazai heard the doors click closed, he moved around the chess table to the other side.

"Is that you, Odasaku? Are you missing our games of chess so much?" He asked the empty chair. It was followed by a chuckle and small shake of his head. "No, I believe this is a different phantom."

Perhaps it was because this particular month he had been feeling more bleaker than usual, that the walls were loosing more colour or that his pastimes did not serve their purposes anymore. Dazai had promised himself he would never touch this chessboard again, not after that. But here he was, lured into the game of catching this phantom. The person who dared touch a gift no one in the Castle was permitted to touch.

Long, white-gloved fingers reached out and picked up the top of an opposing black pawn and the Prince of Yo made the second move of the match against the phantom.

"[Name]!"

It was the second day of your housemaid duties and first morning in the Palace. Stopping abruptly in the hallway flooding with other women getting ready for work, you spun around. Naomi was rushing towards you with her skirt in one hand and pencil in the other.

"What is it?" You asked as she stumbled closer.

Naomi said no words. Instead, she simply reached into your apron pocket and pulled out your notebook.

"Hey!" You complained, trying to keep the bucket steady in your hands. "What are you—?"

"Hush." The younger woman chastised. She did so with her eyes downcast and pencil scribbling widely against the notepad. "Mind you, it is only sunrise and many are still asleep."

"But you have just stolen my notebook."

One soft shutting sound and Naomi straightened to stuff said notebook back into your apron pocket.

"And now, I am giving it back to you." Her grey eyes hardened in that typical, Naomi-wrath-like way that said you were about to be scolded. "Do keep your attention on the bell. It will be me who get's to you first before Miss Yosano if you are late again."

You rolled your eyes, albeit playfully, and turned to walk away. "I will. It was a mistake."

"The Palace does not tolerate mistakes!"

This time, your second eyeroll wasn't at all playful. "Yes, I'm sure they don't." You grumbled to yourself while walking down the same expansive hall as yesterday.

Although your friend was being the same, stern woman she always was, you had every intention of heeding her warning. For all it was worth, you had no intentions of being late again. And not because the Royals did not tolerate tardiness, but because Miss Yosano did not tolerate tardiness.

"Oh? You didn't hear the bell, did you not?" A slow, bone-chilling smile that made every bone in your body freeze. Head Maid Yosano was as beautiful as she was terrifying. "No matter. The East Wing is rather far from the Maid Quarters. Perhaps take care of that room first and work backwards. That way, you won't be late tomorrow, hmm?"

You gritted your teeth at the shiver coming down your spine. Yosano Akiko was different to most Court Officials. She didn't demand respect and manners from her subordinates, she was just another one of the Palace who seemed to receive it. A particular Guard with a shock of silver hair and an alias of Wolf had a similar aura about them. It was not that you liked them, but they were definitely more tolerable than other Royal Officials with air in their head and money in their pockets.

Speaking of Royal Officials and one Guard Wolf . . .

You had turned down to the East Palace Wing lined with the same pompous Guards and one foreign Guard just like yesterday. Today, you had decided to take Yosano up on her suggestion with tending to this room first and working the list backwards. As you came closer to the doors lined with obnoxious gold, you noticed the Guard Wolf was taking shift again.

Does he not sleep? You wondered, taking in how he stood like a statue. I wonder if he even breathes.

"What business do you have here?" Was the question he asked when you stopped before him.

You resisted the urge to raise a brow. "The same business as yesterday."

Guard Wolf didn't lift his closed eyes. Not a silver hair on his head budged when he repeated, "That does not answer my question, Maid."

Your eyelashes fluttered in rapid succession. You had hopes that this Guard was different; but your opinion of him was taking a steep dive indeed and he was doing nothing to stop it. "I'm here to tend to this room." You responded tightly.

"As early as this?"

"I was advised to by Miss Yosano."

At that, he said nothing, although he must have deemed your reasoning plausible because he took one step to the side and allowed your through. You felt something akin to disappointment bubble in your gut.

Surely it would not matter to a Guard, but you wanted strangely to let him know he had upset you. That stupid habit you had promised Naomi you would not give into, yet here you were.

"Thank you," You whispered, and just before entering the room added, "My Lord."

Maybe you also closed the door a little too hard, but didn't hold yourself accountable. You never did when Court Officials came into the picture. Or more specifically; Court Officials who you believed were not like all other Court Officials.

"Why do I give them the benefit of the doubt...?" You grumbled while setting down the bucket. When you straightened the first thing you did was dig around for the notebook Naomi had written in before getting started on work.

A smile lightened your spirit upon reading what the girl had written.

𝒫𝑜𝓁𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔. 𝐼 𝓈𝒶𝓌 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓇𝒶𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓀𝓃𝓊𝒸𝓀𝓁𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼'𝒹 𝓌𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓅𝑜𝓁𝒾𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃. 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓌𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃. 𝒟𝑜𝓃'𝓉 𝒹𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒷𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒, 𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇!

"Thank you, Miss Naomi." You said with a small laugh. You couldn't dispute her, because you had been wastefully washing twice and polishing wrongly. How the woman found that out will remain a mystery. But you could accept and appreciate the sentiment wrapped in scolding words.

And off you, the training housemaid, went. You disliked this room the most, if it wasn't at all obvious by your first visit. Even being in it a second time and your fury hadn't subsided one bit — less so, when you saw that whatever Guest stayed in here had barely touched his breakfast again.

What was with that wasteful habit? You asked yourself with a snarl when the food — some of which was still warm — had to be dumped in a bucket for the horses outside.

Another wonder came as you straightened the bedsheets that were only tossed and not slept in; where was that wasteful guest? At this hour of the morning? You were half expecting him or her to still be in here when you came, for it was sunrise, the hour of Maids and Guards alone.

No matter, you dismissed while checking the mirrors and other meticulous necessities, they don't sleep and refuse food. Perhaps they're a vampire? For the remainder of the stay, you were wrapped up in the funny thought inspired by your favourite childhood story. You were was serving a vampire, an amusing ponder. A vampire who shares nothing in common with you but a game of chess.

When you were finished and the room of gold and diamonds looked even more immaculate when cleaned — did you succumb to the secret wish to admire said chessboard again and walked towards it. Due to the bell yesterday and Guard Wolf's interruption, you hadn't taken the time to actually marvel at the expensive crystal pieces. Of course, you preferred Grandfather's crafted ones, but could appreciate the feel and weight of ones owned by a noble.

You were jarred suddenly when coming to a stop just before the board.

. . . Oh, God.

Your wide eyes were fixated on the piece you had been admiring yesterday. A crystal pawn that got its colour from the cloudy white inside. You noticed suddenly the mistake you had made, the foolishness of your lack of one final check. Because if you had done that, you would have realised that you did not return the pawn to the place you had found it!

In haste surely, because Guard Wolf would have caught you if you hadn't turned around — you must have placed it wrongly. The tile before it.

Oh, stupid woman! You grimaced, wondering what would happen now. Surely to anyone, it was just a piece of a chess game. Silly was your sudden distress. But this was a heavily guarded Nobleman's Room, and this was a highly expensive and previously untouched chessboard of said Nobleman.

The sheets you had fixed had been warm, the food had been wasted but pushed around in a bored, dismissive fashion. Whoever resided in here had been here before you, and something so beautiful like this chessboard was a centre piece of the room. He or she had to have noticed it.

You felt dread creep up your spine. It wasn't worry for you, because you couldn't give a damn about Royals and their accusations, but for the other Maids in your group. Playing with ornate things in a Nobleman's room is simply not done. One would be brandished a thief, or the whole of the Maids would be punished for the actions of one. You couldn't let that happen, you said, doing the only thing you thought right and attempting to put the piece back, you would not allow others to be whipped. You, a thief? Allow them to punish you over something so ludicrous. You hadn't even taken the piece in the first—

The asymmetry of the opposite side of the board, however, made your hand freeze.

What . . . ?

A black pawn had been moved. Third in from the left, mirroring yours that had been moved from the right. You blinked, then blinked a little harder to rid the sleep from your mind. You, after all, had trouble sleeping in the Palace on your first night away from home. Surely, you were seeing things—

You were not.

With a gape, you realised that not only was your curiosity being reprimanded by a Lord wishing to know who dared touch their stuff. Instead, you had been copied. Your accidental move being challenged by one from the opposing side. It threatened to make your dread morph into startled laughter, because what in the world type of Diplomat responded to the mistakes of maids by copying them?

With your hand still hovering over the white pawn, you entertained the thought that perhaps it wasn't copying, but a silent invitation.

An invitation to play based on your mistake?

"The Castle does not tolerate mistakes!" Naomi's sharp words in your mind.

"Yes, that's right. These people don't tolerate mistakes," Your fingers closed around the beautiful pawn with the intent to reverse your mistake. "An invitation? Hah, not to a Maid it is not."

Some small, insignificant force made you hesitate.

And another one that was dangerous, reckless and so like you made you bite your lip and look back to the door. They were quiet. You were the only one in the room. And was currently allowing herself to play with fire.

You could be whipped.

This could be a well thought out trap.

Remember your promise to Naomi!

It took a moment of furious thinking on what to do. How to handle a situation that looked like a coax to entertain whatever Lord you were cleaning the room of. And then, your habit kicked up. One that did not allow you to be told what to do by these people, to permit your status to have anything to do with it.

So you held your breath and made one of the most reckless moves of your entire life.

A slow, almost impressed smile came over The First Prince's face that night when he came back to his chambers. Not surprisingly, the first thing his attention zoned in on was the chessboard sitting surrounded by soft flowing curtains of white. His new, hopeful distraction from it all.

He was immensely satisfied that whatever curious soul he was entertaining had not disappointed him.

"So," He murmured, walking over to the opposite side of the board. Facing the opposing white side, the commander of which had chosen to take a daring second move. Prince Dazai picked up a black piece. "You've chosen to play, have you Phantom-san?"

You idiot! You absolute reckless, suicidal lunatic! How could you do such a thing by mistake, and then purposely the second time? What'll Miss Yosano say? What will your Grandfather say?

You could almost hear Naomi's high, panicked voice the moment she found out what you had done. Which was why you had decided not to tell her. To save her a possible heart-attack, and definitely not because you knew full well the recklessness of your decision.

Currently, said reckless maid was making her way down the hallway at a slow pace to the Maid's Quarters. Thanks to Miss Yosano's advice, you had managed to get all your chores finished up in a reasonable time and was already walking back when the bell had resounded. Although every task you had done after tending to the first Lord's Guestroom had been with your eyes spaced-out and moves automatic. Quite frankly, you were unsure you had done everything properly. You mind had been left in the room where you made the decision to play with starfire.

A moment of prideful enthusiasm, was what you were naming it. Not your habit of getting yourself into trouble by standing up to those higher than you.

Although you just couldn't help the thought, purely because of the love you had for the game;

I wonder... what move they will make—?

"Oh!"

"Ah!"

You had been so wrapped up in thinking that you had not seen another person standing right in front of you — and collided into them. CRASH, your empty bucket was sent ricocheting off of the floor followed swiftly by your behind. By the sounds of it, the other person had been thrown in the opposite direction and stumbled over her own two feet, too.

You threw your hair coming free from the bow to look at the damage caused. Foolish, foolish me! "Forgive me...!" You said breathlessly upon realising it was another Maid you had collided with. One whose face hid behind a sheet of gorgeous blonde. The lady gave a good shake and lifted her head to look your way.

Wide, searching eyes of unnaturally deep crimson collided with yours. "No, it—it was me. I was the one who didn't see you coming."

"Please, let me take the blame. My mind—" You gave a small laugh. "It wasn't focused on where I was going."

The blonde Maid shook her head and reached to pick up your thankfully empty bucket. What a right mess this would be if you hadn't emptied it with the spare time you had. "Let's settle on us both being at fault," She assured in a quiet, gentle voice. When she stood up she offered a fair hand. "My name is Higuchi."

Higuchi. Such a beautiful name. Befitting of her pale skin and unique eyes. "[Name]." You said while pulling yourself up and taking the bucket. "From the Willows family."

"I see." Was all Higuchi said. You frowned ever-so slightly. It was rather odd, that Higuchi didn't disclose the name of her family after you had. That was basic social etiquette.

"Higuchi of... which family?"

"Oh," The woman bristled, both now walking side by side. "I forgot myself. Isayama. I'm of the Isayama family."

"Isayama?" You tilted your head. "I'm afraid I don't know them."

"I'm not from here, you see."

"Ah, that explains it." Suddenly very interested in the now foreign lady to these lands, you shifted to look at her properly. With her exotic red eyes and blonde hair, you could see now that her familial roots were not of the Yo Kingdom. Many here had naturally dark hair and eyes, with the exception of some. "Excuse me for saying this, Higuchi, but you're very beautiful."

Higuchi's shoulders stiffened in an unprecedented action. It was one you didn't expect and hadn't meant to illicit; you had just called this woman beautiful, yet it looked more like you'd slapped her right across the face.

Although the reaction was gone with a heavy sigh and a smile on Higuchi's part. It looked terribly forced, you noticed.

"You're very kind, [Name]." Was all she said.

You didn't like the tone in Higuchi's voice, not one bit. It was a soft husky whisper, which was her natural voice that sounded like you could drift off to sleep to it peacefully. But there was something else there too. A strange, ancient stiffness that you just couldn't place a name too.

Although that would have to wait, because now you had arrived at the Servants Quarters and were about to head to dinner.

"Would you like to sit with me?" You asked the blonde. A woman you didn't really want to leave alone, and wished to get to the bottom of why such a compliment could make her react like a frightened animal. Naomi surely would make the woman warm up, for her radiance could melt the walls of an ice Palace.

The woman hesitated. Then, fixed her expression into one of gratitude. "I would . . . like that. Thank you."

A spoon clattered into the soup bowl; a warm, grateful meal on the menu for housemaids today. Naomi's eyes were saucer-wide, staring at Higuchi across from her in shock. "The Hama Kingdom!? That is where you're from?"

"Yes," Higuchi answered calmly. "I am."

You and Naomi exchanged glances. This was news to both of you.

"You made a long journey to come here," You observed while bringing a water cup to your mouth. You raised a brow when adding, "For Maid's work."

"I suppose. I am from a large family, many of which are scholars and educational-people. There is no work for a woman such as myself in a large capital esteemed for men's work. So, I came here. I'm afraid frivolous womanly duties are not for me."

You shrugged one shoulder. "Well, I can agree with you there."

"Oh, but do tell me how it is to live in our largest Kingdom!" Naomi was buzzing in her seat. She was warranted the excitement to some extent, for it was rare to talk directly to visitors from your Capital. They were usually seen and tended to by King Dietrich himself. "Is it as beautiful as the stories say? That the rivers run with gold and the Ladies dresses sparkle with magic glitter?"

Higuchi looked a little lost for what to say; blinking and averting her eyes from the bubbly girl. You could understand it, feeling a little sympathetic for the blonde. Of course, the river didn't run with gold and dresses were not made of star-stuff, but to shoot Naomi down would be akin to stabbing a gentle puppy.

"Well . . . " Higuchi began.

BANG!

Every head in the room, including a watchful Yosano Akiko, snapped up to the jarring sound that had many spoons hitting the floor. The door of the Servants Quarters had been completely thrown open by one single man; short, dressed in an obnoxious display of green, golden shoulder embellishments that told of his high standing and a comical lime cap. The man looked every bit hilarious as he did childish. Although, that was only your opinion.

"Yosano-san!" His voice called. It was high for a man, and rather demanding. All the way he walked he had his eyes curved shut.

"Ranpo-san." The lady greeted calmly. And, dare you think it, but was there respect in her voice? In Miss Yosano's voice? For a man who talked to her like a child?

"Who is that?" You whispered.

"I . . . have no idea." Was Naomi's equally confused murmur.

"What brings you to my Quarters?" Yosano asked the man. Standing beside her and scanning the crowd with an annoyed mumble, this Ranpo man was a lot short than your average male. Perhaps that's why he wears such a large hat, the smirk was back on your face.

"A feeling." Ranpo said, and then zeroed his attention in on the desk you, Naomi and Higuchi sat at. When he wouldn't move his face away did your smirk gradually fall from your face. Because why the hell was he—

You had no time to question it. In a heartbeat, the short man came striding right over to you three until he was a few centimetres away from Higuchi. Who, you noticed, was staying oddly silent. What in the world was going on? Your mind raced, now feeling oddly defensive that every single pair of eyes were zoned in on your table. Naomi's hand felt for yours under the table and you clasped it tightly, attempting to offer her some comfort as she shook under the attention of a Court Representative.

Although this was what your bad habit was good for.

"May we help you, My Lord?" You asked the man.

Him and his eyes he kept closed, it rubbed you the wrong way. All Royal Officials rubbed you the damned wrong way, but this one cocked a dark brow at you and frowned.

"Lord?" He asked in an accusing voice. Then, he pointed at you. "You mustn't address me as a Lord. I'm an Investigator. Isn't that obvious by my state of dress, or have you half the braincells of a normal Maid?"

You had never had so much disrespect thrown at you from one person. Royal Official or slum-rats alike!

"Excuse me?" You asked, ignoring how Naomi's nails were digging holes into your hand. You could hear her desperate string of thoughts; please, [Name], I beg you to behave. You promised! But hell if you would keep tight lipped when a big-headed Investigator degraded you in front of a hall of people. You promised to mannerly, you did not promise not to defend your pride.

This Investigator tilted his head. "Ah, Yosano-san, this Maid is faulty. You'll have to throw her away, I'm afraid."

There was no going back now. Strain, tear, snap. Your mouth opened before you could stop it.

"I'd rather be a faulty Maid, as you say, than a pig-headed Royal Investigator who believes himself above everybody just because of a title."

Silence befell over the entire eating hall. It was a heavy silence, pregnant and hard to breathe in. That was, for everyone else that was not you. You were too busy glaring icy daggers at the shorter man in green. No expression but one of mild surprise was on his face, which did its job at making you even more agitated. You felt like an aggressive teenager again underneath his unflinching stare; how an unamused adult would look at a temperamental child.

These bloody Royal Officials — you were about to stand and give him a good scolding. You were knee deep in it already, better go all the way if it meant you'd be given the same punishment. Naomi was now holding onto your wrist with two hands, as if reading your mind, and keeping you seated. Just barely.

But then, the Investigator did say something.

"Hmm?" And all of a sudden, he lifted his eyes and really looked at you. Jarred, suddenly taken aback by the intense colour of them. Like the finest green fields, or purest emerald gems. They sparkled with such deep intelligence. "So it's you, then?"

You quickly recovered from your shock to double over in confusion at what he just said. It's me? It's me . . . what? "I—"

"No! That's enough from you. You're voice irritates me." The man said. It was like he was baiting you to lunge at his throat. The only thing keeping this red-faced trainee maid from committing the highest offense in a Palace was poor Naomi, who was keeping her hands locked around your arm in a vice-grip, begging you to calm down.

"My feeling is not for you, any way," Ranpo went on. He had long since closed his impressive eyes, but still they managed to turn to a reserved Higuchi across from them. He reached out to poke her shoulder. "It's for you, Higuchi of the Hama Kingdom."

Higuchi didn't turn around and face the upstanding Court Official that was calling her, to everyone's surprise. Instead she took a moment to clear her throat. "And what is this feeling for, Royal Investigator?"

Investigator Ranpo leaned down to whisper the words so low only the table participants could hear, "I fear your papers have a mistake on them."

At the cryptically put words, Higuchi sighed. It was minute and didn't give away anything she was feeling. "Forgive me, I'm not educated enough. Unlike a Royal Investigator. Do you wish for me to come with you?"

"It's tiresome, but yes. I have a meeting with the Secretary himself scheduled for you."

"How generous of you."

You — now that the anger had subsided at least somewhat — couldn't help but shake the feeling that there was something else happening in this conversation. The words were spoken artfully and some sounded more a threat than a polite command. Like they were in on an inside joke no one else knew. You searched for Higuchi's eyes for an explanation, or perhaps a short call for help, but the blonde kept her respectable crimson gaze downcast. Gracefully, she rose from the bench and followed the shorter man all the way to the door. While, of course, withstanding the weight of everyone's stares.

The woman didn't even flinch.

You may not be well read on Court business, but knew enough to understand that being summoned by a Royal Investigator and then a Throne Secretary received at least some suspicion. And although you didn't want to believe something sinister could be at work surrounding the beautiful woman of blonde, you couldn't help the nagging doubt.

Another unnecessary BANG! disturbed the air, and then after; silence. It was startled at first, but then quickly bled into pregnant, once more. Because now that Higuchi had left, there was another elephant in the room. [Name] Willows; a maid insane enough to throw unmannerly insults at a Court Official and expect to get by unscathed.

And by the narrowed, sharp magenta eyes of her Overseer; Yosano Akiko, you wondered of how unscathed that would be. If you would even get out of it alive at all.

ʚɞ . . . 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

ʚɞ . . . 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄

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