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mostlysignssomeportents · 6 months ago

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The true, tactical significance of Project 2025

TODAY (July 14), I'm giving the closing keynote for the fifteenth HACKERS ON PLANET EARTH, in QUEENS, NY. Happy Bastille Day! NEXT SATURDAY (July 20), I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

Like you, I have heard a lot about Project 2025, the Heritage Foundation's roadmap for the actions that Trump should take if he wins the presidency. Given the Heritage Foundation's centrality to the American authoritarian project, it's about as awful and frightening as you might expect:

https://www.project2025.org/

But (nearly) all the reporting and commentary on Project 2025 badly misses the point. I've only read a single writer who immediately grasped the true significance of Project 2025: The American Prospect's Rick Perlstein, which is unsurprising, given Perlstein's stature as one of the left's most important historians of right wing movements:

https://prospect.org/politics/2024-07-10-project-2025-republican-presidencies-tradition/

As Perlstein points out, Project 2025 isn't new. The Heritage Foundation and its allies have prepared documents like this, with many identical policy prescriptions, in the run-up to many presidential elections. Perlstein argues that Warren G Harding's 1921 inaugural address captures much of its spirit, as did the Nixon campaign's 1973 vow to "move the country so far to the right 'you won’t even recognize it.'"

The threats to democracy and its institutions aren't new. The right has been bent on their destruction for more than a century. As Perlstein says, the point of taking note of this isn't to minimize the danger, rather, it's to contextualize it. The American right has, since the founding of the Republic, been bent on creating a system of hereditary aristocrats, who govern without "interference" from democratic institutions, so that their power to extract wealth from First Nations, working people, and the land itself is checked only by rivalries with other aristocrats. The project of the right is grounded in a belief in Providence: that God's favor shines on His best creations and elevates them to wealth and power. Elite status is proof of merit, and merit is "that which leads to elite status."

When a wealthy person founds an intergenerational dynasty of wealth and power, this is merely a hereditary meritocracy: a bloodline infused with God's favor. Sometimes, this belief is dressed up in caliper-wielding pseudoscience, with the "good bloodline" reflecting superior genetics and not the favor of the Almighty. Of course, a true American aristocrat gussies up his "race realism" with mystical nonsense: "God favored me with superior genes." The corollary, of course, is that you are poor because God doesn't favor you, or because your genes are bad, or because God punished you with bad genes.

So we should be alarmed by the right's agenda. We should be alarmed at how much ground it has gained, and how the right has stolen elections and Supreme Court seats to enshrine antimajoritarianism as a seemingly permanent fact of life, giving extremist minorities the power to impose their will on the rest of us, dooming us to a roasting planet, forced births, racist immiseration, and most expensive, worst-performing health industry in the world.

But for all that the right has bombed so many of the roads to a prosperous, humane future, it's a huge mistake to think of the right as a stable, unified force, marching to victory after inevitable victory. The American right is a brittle coalition led by a handful of plutocrats who have convinced a large number of turkeys to vote for Christmas.

The right wing coalition needs to pander to forced-birth extremists, racist extremist, Christian Dominionist extremists (of several types), frothing anti-Communist cranks, vicious homophobes and transphobes, etc, etc. Pandering to all these groups isn't easy: for one thing, they often want opposite things – the post-Roe forced birth policies that followed the Dobbs decision are wildly unpopular among conservatives, with the exception of a clutch of totally unhinged maniacs that the party relies on as part of a much larger coalition. Even more unpopular are policies banning birth control, like the ones laid out in Project 2025. Less popular still: the proposed ban on no-fault divorce. Each of these policies have different constituencies to whom they are very popular, but when you put them together, you get Dan Savage's "Husbands you can't leave, pregnancies you can't prevent or terminate, politicians you can't vote out of office":

https://twitter.com/fakedansavage/status/1805680183065854083

The constituency for "husbands you can't leave, pregnancies you can't prevent or terminate, politicians you can't vote out of office" is very small. Almost no one in the GOP coalition is voting for all of this, they're voting for one or two of these things and holding their noses when it comes to the rest.

Take the "libertarian" wing of the GOP: its members do favor personal liberty…it's just that they favor low taxes for them more than personal liberty for you. The kind of lunatic who'd vote for a dead gopher if it would knock a quarter off his tax bill will happily allow his coalition partners to rape pregnant women with unnecessary transvaginal ultrasounds and force them to carry unwanted fetuses to term if that's the price he has to pay to save a nickel in taxes:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/29/jubilance/#tolerable-racism

And, of course, the religious maniacs who profess a total commitment to Biblical virtue but worship Trump, Gaetz, Limbaugh, Gingrich, Reagan, and the whole panoply of cheating, lying, kid-fiddling, dope-addled refugees from a Jack Chick tract know that these men never gave a shit about Jesus, the Apostles or the Ten Commandments – but they'll vote for 'em because it will get them school prayer, total abortion bans, and unregulated "home schooling" so they can brainwash a generation of Biblical literalists who think the Earth is 5,000 years old and that Jesus was white and super into rich people.

Time and again, the leaders of the conservative movement prove themselves capable of acts of breathtaking cruelty, and undoubtedly many of them are depraved sadists who genuinely enjoy the suffering of their enemies (think of Trump lickspittle Steven Miller's undisguised glee at the thought of parents who would never be reunited with children after being separated at the border). But it's a mistake to think that "the cruelty is the point." The point of the cruelty is to assemble and maintain the coalition. Cruelty is the tactic. Power is the point:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/09/turkeys-voting-for-christmas/#culture-wars

The right has assembled a lot of power. They did so by maintaining unity among people who have irreconcilable ethics and goals. Think of the pro-genocide coalition that includes far-right Jewish ethno-nationalists, antisemitic apocalyptic Christians who believe they are hastening the end-times, and Islamophobes of every description, from War On Terror relics to Hindu nationalists.

This is quite an improbable coalition, and while I deplore its goals, I can't help but be impressed by its cohesion. Can you imagine the kind of behind-the-scenes work it takes to get antisemites who think Jews secretly control the world to lobby with Zionists? Or to get Zionists to work alongside of Holocaust-denying pencilneck Hitler wannabes whose biggest regret is not bringing their armbands to Charlottesville?

Which brings me back to Project 2025 and its true significance. As Perlstein writes, Project 2025 is a mess. Clocking in an 900 pages, large sections of Project 2025 flatly contradict each other, while other sections contain subtle contradictions that you wouldn't notice unless you were schooled in the specialized argot of the far right's jargon and history.

For example, Project 2025 calls for defunding government agencies and repurposing the same agencies to carry out various spectacular atrocities. Both actions are deplorable, but they're also mutually exclusive. Project 2025 demands four different, completely irreconcilable versions of US trade policy. But at least that's better than Project 2025's chapter on monetary policy, which simply lays out every right wing theory of money and then throws up its hands and recommends none of them.

Perlstein says that these conflicts, blank spots and contradictions are the most important parts of Project 2025. They are the fracture lines in the coalition: the conflicting ideas that have enough support that neither side can triumph over the other. These are the conflicts that are so central to the priorities of blocs that are so important to the coalition that they must be included, even though that inclusion constitutes a blinking "LOOK AT ME" sign telling us where the right is ready to split apart.

The right is really good at this. Perlstein points to Nixon's expansion of affirmative action, undertaken to sow division between Black and white workers. We need to get better at it.

So far, we've lavished attention on the clearest and most emphatic proposals in Project 2025 – for understandable reasons. These are the things they say they want to do. It would be reckless to ignore them. But they've been saying things like this for a century. These demands constitute a compelling argument for fighting them as a matter of urgency, with the intention of winning. And to win, we need to split apart their coalition.

Perlstein calls on us to dissect Project 2025, to cleave it at its joints. To do so, he says we need to understand its antecedents, like Nixon's "Malek Manual," a roadmap for destroying the lives of civil servants who failed to show sufficient loyalty to Nixon. For example, the Malek Manual lays out a "Traveling Salesman Technique" whereby a government employee would be given duties "criss-crossing him across the country to towns (hopefully with the worst accommodations possible) of a population of 20,000 or under. Until his wife threatens him with divorce unless he quits, you have him out of town and out of the way":

https://www.google.com/books/edition/Final_Report_on_Violations_and_Abuses_of/0dRLO9vzQF0C?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=%22organization+of+a+political+personnel+office+and+program%22&pg=PA161&printsec=frontcover

It's no coincidence that leftist historians of the right are getting a lot of attention. Trumpism didn't come out of nowhere – Trump is way too stupid and undisciplined to be a cause – he's an effect. In his excellent, bestselling new history of the right in the early 1990s, When the Clock Broke, Josh Ganz shows us the swamp that bred Trump, with such main characters as the fascist eugenicist Sam Francis:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780374605445/whentheclockbroke

Ganz joins the likes of the Know Your Enemy podcast, an indispensable history of reactionary movements that does excellent work in tracing the fracture lines in the right coalition:

https://www.patreon.com/posts/when-clock-broke-106803105

Progressives are also an uneasy coalition that is easily splintered. As Naomi Klein argues in her essential Doppelganger, the liberal-left coalition is inherently unstable and contains the seeds of its own destruction:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/05/not-that-naomi/#if-the-naomi-be-klein-youre-doing-just-fine

Liberals have been the senior partner in that coalition, and their commitment to preserving institutions for their own sake (rather than because of what they can do to advance human thriving) has produced generations of weak and ineffectual responses to the crises of terminal-stage capitalism, like the idea that student-debt cancellation should be means-tested:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/03/utopia-of-rules/#in-triplicate

The last bid for an American aristocracy was repelled by rejecting institutions, not preserving them. When the Supreme Court thwarted the New Deal, FDR announced his intention to pack the court, and then began the process of doing so (which included no-holds-barred attacks on foot-draggers in his own party). Not for nothing, this is more-or-less what Lincoln did when SCOTUS blocked Reconstruction:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/20/judicial-equilibria/#pack-the-court

But the liberals who lead the progressive movement dismiss packing the court as unserious and impractical – notwithstanding the fact that they have no plan for rescuing America from the bribe-taking extremists, the credibly accused rapist, and the three who stole their robes. Ultimately, liberals defend SCOTUS because it is the Supreme Court. I defended SCOTUS, too – while it was still a vestigial organ of the rights revolution, which improved the lives of millions of Americans. Human rights are worth defending, SCOTUS isn't. If SCOTUS gets in the way of human rights, then screw SCOTUS. Sideline it. Pack it. Make it a joke.

Fuck it.

This isn't to argue for left seccession from the progressive coalition. As we just saw in France, splitting at this moment is an invitation to literal fascist takeover:

https://jacobin.com/2024/07/melenchon-macron-france-left-winner

But if there's one thing that the rise of Trumpism has proven, it's that parties are not immune to being wrestled away from their establishment leaderships by radical groups:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/16/that-boy-aint-right/#dinos-rinos-and-dunnos

What's more, there's a much stronger natural coalition that the left can mobilize: workers. Being a worker – that is, paying your bills from wages, instead of profits – isn't an ideology you can change, it's a fact. A Christian nationalist can change their beliefs and then they will no longer be a Christian nationalist. But no matter what a worker believes, they are still a worker – they still have a irreconcilable conflict with people whose money comes from profits, speculation, or rents. There is no objectively fair way to divide the profits a worker's labor generates – your boss will always pay you as little of that surplus as he can. The more wages you take home, the less profit there is for your boss, the fewer dividends there are for his shareholders, and the less there is to pay to rentiers:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/19/make-them-afraid/#fear-is-their-mind-killer

Reviving the role of workers in their unions, and of unions in the Democratic party, is the key to building the in-party power we need to drag the party to real solutions – strong antimonopoly action, urgent climate action, protections for gender, racial and sexual minorities, and decent housing, education and health care.

The alternative to a worker-led Democratic Party is a Democratic Party run by its elites, whose dictates and policies are inescapably illegitimate. As Hamilton Nolan writes, the completely reasonable (and extremely urgent) discussion about Biden's capacity to defeat Trump has been derailed by the Democrats' undemocratic structure. Ultimately, the decision to have an open convention or to double down on a candidate whose campaign has been marred by significant deficits is down to a clutch of party officials who operate without any formal limits or authority:

https://www.hamiltonnolan.com/p/the-hole-at-the-heart-of-the-democratic

Jettisoning Biden because George Clooney (or Nancy Pelosi) told us to is never going to feel legitimate to his supporters in the party. But if the movement for an open convention came from grassroots-dominated unions who themselves dominated the party – as was the case, until the Reagan revolution – then there'd be a sense that the party had constituents, and it was acting on its behalf.

Reviving the labor movement after 40 years of Reaganomic war on workers may sound like a tall order, but we are living through a labor renaissance, and the long-banked embers of labor radicalism are reigniting. What's more, repelling fascism is what workers' movements do. The business community will always sell you out to the Nazis in exchange for low taxes, cheap labor and loose regulation.

But workers, organized around their class interests, stand strong. Last week, we lost one of labor's brightest flames. Jane McAlevey, a virtuoso labor organizer and trainer of labor organizers, died of cancer at 57:

https://jacobin.com/2024/07/jane-mcalevey-strategy-organizing-obituary

McAlevey fought to win. She was skeptical of platitudes like "speaking truth to power," always demanding an explanation for how the speech would become action. In her classic book A Collective Bargain, she describes how she built worker power:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/23/a-collective-bargain/

McAlevey helped organize a string of successful strikes, including the 2019 LA teachers' strike. Her method was straightforward: all you have to do to win a strike or a union drive is figure out how to convince every single worker in the shop to back the union. That's all.

Of course, it's harder than it sounds. All the problems that plague every coalition – especially the progressive liberal/left coalition – are present on the shop floor. Some workers don't like each other. Some don't see their interests aligned with others. Some are ornery. Some are convinced that victory is impossible.

McAlevey laid out a program for organizing that involved figuring out how to reach every single worker, to converse with them, listen to them, understand them, and win them over. I've never read or heard anyone speak more clearly, practically and inspirationally about coalition building.

Biden was never my candidate. I supported three other candidates ahead of him in 2020. When he got into office and started doing a small number of things I really liked, it didn't make me like him. I knew who he was: the Senator from MBNA, whose long political career was full of bills, votes and speeches that proved that while we might have some common goals, we didn't want the same America or the same world.

My interest in Biden over the past four years has had two areas of focus: how can I get him to do more of the things that will make us all better off, and do less of the things that make the world worse. When I think about the next four years, I'm thinking about the same things. A Trump presidency will contain far more bad things and far fewer good ones.

Many people I like and trust have pointed out that they don't like Biden and think he will be a bad president, but they think Trump will be much worse. To limit Biden's harms, leftists have to take over the Democratic Party and the progressive movement, so that he's hemmed in by his power base. To limit Trump's harms, leftists have to identify the fracture lines in the right coalition and drive deep wedges into them, shattering his power base.

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/14/fracture-lines/#disassembly-manual

#pluralistic #politics #project 2025 #heritage foundation #history #jane macalevey #rip #tactics #republicans in disarray #turkeys voting for christmas #rick perlstein #know your enemy #fracture lines #when the clock broke #john ganz #hamilton nolan

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yrwestillhere · 2 years ago

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Are tmg watchers even real where tf are those mfs

#myths #theyre like little mystical creatures that only come out to watch the pod and like it on yt then go back to hiding in their lil fantasy land #again #i am alone #me

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uraniumbones · 5 months ago

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oh God oh fuck oh God

I didn't know he was wearing his father's clothes. omfg he loves his family so much. Just like that post about all the changes he made to be a good guardian for the twins and then they almost decided to run away. This is just another example of that. He wears his dad's clothes and when his brother sent him that post card saying "please come" he went, and when he fucked up and lost his brother he spent the next thirty years trying to get him back dealing in machinery and mystical forces he does not understand. He loves his family so much even when they don't love him. He loves his family so much and he wants someone to love him too :((( HE'S BEEN ALONE FOR SO LONG why didn't anyone go to Mr mystery's mystery aged birthday party? I'm fucking shrieking at the top of my lungs. In one of the episode's commentary tracks (land before swine?) there's a story Stan tells about how Ford made a kissing robot to learn how to kiss correctly and the only way to turn it off was to kiss it good. And it went off in class and Ford had to kiss the disembodied head in front of everyone to get the siren to stop and then he says "HAHAHAHAHAH hahahaha HAAAHAHAHA..... he was still more popular than me". And is that hilarious? Yes. Is it also heartbreaking? Yes. for fucks sake someone just care about him. This isn't the story of an unpopular nerd brother and a popular street smart brother. This is the story of a golden boy and a black sheep. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

#not that Stanley is perfect obviously #he has been shitty and done shitty things #but no more so than any regular human fucking being #he deserves better than he got #gravity falls #stanley pines

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brittle-doughie · 1 month ago

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Beast Stars (The Five Virtues/Beasts)

[Compassion/Scorn AU]

Platinum Salt Cookie: *hands Y/N a flower*

You: “It’s pretty, I love it, dear friend!”

You kiss their helmet where their cheek is located. You can’t see it, but Platinum Salt is blushing under the helmet.

Blueberry Milk Cookie: “Oh, Y/N Cookie! Look what I got for you!”

Blueberry Milk Cookie got you a whole bouquet of flowers that he hands you with suppressed giddiness!

You: “O-Oh! These are very lovely too, Blueberry Milk! Thank you!”

You kissed his cheek too which makes Blueberry smile widely. Platinum Salt didn’t appreciate being upstaged as a figurative fire ignited around them as they glared down Blueberry Milk.

Pure Sugar Cookie then abruptly showed up with a mountain of flowers.

Pure Sugar Cookie: “Even then, this wouldn’t be enough to show how much I cherish you, Y/N Cookie!”

You: “Oh my…..”

Pure Sugar Cookie: “Gimme kiss. Preferably on the lips!”

Platinum Salt had an anger tick on their helmet.

Blueberry Milk Cookie: “Showoff!”

———————————————————————

You: “I miss having cookies around…”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Oh? Has the almighty, yet cranky Y/N Cookie learn to love again? In that case…”

You: “I miss reducing them to crumbs for having the nerve to fall for me.”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Oh…can you still do that to me though?”

Mystic Flour Cookie: “Shut your freaky ass up, Shadow Milk Cookie.”

———————————————————————

Crimson Spice Cookie: “Why has Y/N Cookie been locked up in their room?”

Ethereal Flour Cookie: “They accidentally stepped on a Jelly Bee. It flew away just fine, but Y/N Cookie is in despair over it.”

———————————————————————

You hand gifts to Silent Salt Cookie and Eternal Sugar Cookie.

Silent Salt Cookie: “…” (They made it clear that they “hated” your gift.)

You smirked as you thanked them for “hating” it. Now it was Eternal Sugar’s turn-

Eternal Sugar Cookie: “I love it-“

Eternal Sugar Cookie was immediately yeeted into the stratosphere.

———————————————————————

You: “What do you got in your book there, Blueberry Milk Cookie?”

Blueberry Milk Cookie: “Only the finest knowledge that spans across all of Earthbread! I like to read it in my past times when I’m done with my duties for today!”

You: “You must be pretty smart with the knowledge of the land in your hands!”

Blueberry Milk Cookie: “Yes, of course! I am the Virtue of Knowledge after all, let me show you a page of my book-“

Photos of you slip out of random pages from his book after he accidentally opened it a little too loosely. Some looked like they were peppered in what looked like coral blue #2 semiglass lipstick!

You: “Very knowledgeable of Earthbread indeed, my friend. Perhaps a little too much information?”

Blueberry Milk Cookie: “These are necessary for my pursuit of knowledge, I swear!”

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bluelockmaniac · 4 months ago

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👑 .𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

ft. crown prince!itoshi sae x commoner!femreader x second prince!itoshi rin (only bc you are rin's fiancée)

🗡 synopsis. you were chosen to be the second prince’s fiancée for rin’s convenience, but fate had different plans when you fell for his older brother, the crown prince, instead. as you start hearing strange voices during your engagement ball, sae falls victim to alexis’ curse, which only your love can break. what happens when news spread of the crown prince's revival and rin finds out?

⛓ content warning. 13.3k (yikes)ノ royal au ノ classism ノ cheating themes & pdaノ⚠ rin is rude, offensive, & insulting ノ your parents & sis for plot are assholes ノ semi-arranged marriage (?) ノ reader is illiterate ノ narration heavy ノ reader gets called whore once ノ implied death & gorish description ノ implied stranglingノ animal murder ノ minimal implication of shorter readerノthe relationship with sae is highkey rushed now that i reread it.

notes. this took me two weeks+ to finish ahhh. i thank my past self for being obsessed with manhwas so muchh, and ty to rhymezone for saving my ass w/ the ancient poem. first time using capital letters when writing fanfics, only bc it's really long though, eeee.

In the Twilight of the Eclipsing Red Moon,

When Stars Align and Shadows Loom,

The Great’s Fate is Sealed in the Veil of Night,

By the Hand of One from Mystic Light.

But From the Dust of Forgotten Lands,

Shall Rise a Heart with Common Hands,

With Lips of Rose and Spirit Warm,

To Bring the Order, End the Storm.

A Crown of Old Shall Find its Grace,

In the Embrace of a Simple Face.

But Do not be Fooled, One Shall Not Bloom,

For This, Will Lead to One’s Gentle Doom.

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty,” your father stammered, “M-My eldest daughter has fallen gravely ill, and I fear she physically cannot journey to the Grand Empire of Aquaria tomorrow!”

The king’s eyes flared open in shock as the words reached his ears. His grip on the plush armrest of his throne tightened, the baroque carvings digging into his palm.

“What?!” He yelled, dismissing the fan bearer with a sharp glare before rising from his throne and taking two steps forward. His shadow covered large over your father’s trembling figure.

“She chooses now, of all times, to be stricken with sickness? At a crucial time for our kingdom? Such insolence!” He descended three more steps and glared down at him. “Did you forget that His Imperial Highness has specifically requested a lady from your clan?”

“I—”

The king struck his scepter harshly against the floor, silencing the man. “All the other houses of your garbage clan bore only sons,” he spat, “She will go, and that is final!”

“Actually…” the commoner’s lips pointed upwards in a well-rehearsed smile as he placed a hand over his heart in false politeness. “I have another daughter. She’s eager— eager to fulfill her duty. She is twenty, two years younger than the prince, but still of age.”

King Orion arched an eyebrow and his mouth twisted into a sneer. “Very well,” he replied, waving his hand in disinterest as he returned to his throne. “Summon her.”

In truth, the king’s concern wasn’t with Aria, your older sister. He cared little for which daughter was offered up to Aquaria’s second prince. It was a political necessity, nothing more— a favour to His Imperial Highness, Prince Rin. Or more like a fulfillment of Rin’s rather odd request that came with a threat. As long as someone from your clan was presented, it mattered not to him whether it was your sister or some other sacrificial lamb for the slaughter.

At the call of your name, the guards creaked open the heavy doors, and you entered the throne chamber slowly. When you reached the foot of the throne, you lowered your body in a curtsey bow, your gaze fixed on the scarlet carpet that stretched beneath you.

“It is my greatest honour to stand before you, Your Majesty,” you said, though your indifferent tone made it clear to anyone listening that you longed for nothing more than to be anywhere but here.

But you knew the truth behind this charade. Aria wasn’t ill. She was the jewel of your parents’ eye, their pride and joy, shielded from the Empire’s gaze like a pirate’s precious treasure. You, on the other hand, were the forgotten one– the daughter they kept hidden, a mere shadow in their halls, easily discarded when it was convenient. To your father, you were a little more than a weight around his neck, an extra mouth to feed, a burden he was eager to rid himself of.

The king’s eyes scanned you up and down, his expression visibly souring as he took in the sight of your tattered ankle-high, brown dress and scuffed boots. Disgusting.

“Ugh,” he muttered under his breath, leaning on one elbow as he sneered at you. “She’ll do, I suppose. Pretty enough for their tastes.” He turned to his chancellor with a condescending wave. “Have the maids find something more… suitable for this one.”

The chancellor bowed deeply, “At once, Your Majesty.”

“Alright, you’ve packed everything, haven’t you?” your mother asked as she rubbed Aria’s shoulder comfortingly.

Your gaze drifted to the battered briefcase lying at your feet. You had stumbled upon it by accident, shoved into a forgotten corner of the dirty attic, coated in layers of dust and practically falling apart at the seams. With a sigh, you bent down to pick it up, nodding as it threatened to collapse.

“Yes,” you murmured, a bitter smile tugging at your lips, “There was hardly anything to pack, anyway.”

Your father scoffed, rolling his eyes as he wrapped an arm around Aria, who had begun to shed what you knew to be crocodile tears. The act was almost laughable. She suddenly broke free from their grasp and rushed over to you, flinging her arms around your waist with a dramatic sob.

“Y/N!” she cried, “Please take care of yourself– hic– I’m going to miss you so much!”

You hesitated for a moment before stiffly returning her hug. She was a liar, through and through, and you both knew it.

Before the act could continue, the distant sound of hooves clattering against cobblestone paths captured your attention. Gently, you pried yourself away from her clutches, turning toward the approaching sound.

Your breath hitched. The Empire’s Royal Carriage was quickly nearing, and it was no exaggeration to say that its massive size dwarfed everything coming its way. It was magnificent, its gleaming white exterior and elegant navy blue designs that were above the huge clattering wheels. Silken curtains furnished the windows, embroidered with golden threads that caught the eyes of your greedy family. But what truly stole your attention was the shining silver crown perched atop the carriage, with Aquaria’s Royal Crest.

“Listen–” your father’s obnoxious voice cut through your admiration. He leaned close, his voice coming out in a hiss, “You better behave yourself, got it? If you mess this up, it’s not just you– it’s all of us. Understand?”

You shrugged off his threat with a nonchalant nod, “I’ll do my best.”

The sounds of the porcelain horses neighing were suddenly right behind you. They looked so soft, so immaculate, that you had to resist the urge to reach out and glide your fingers through their carefully groomed manes. But you knew better. This was no place for such frivolities.

The royal coachman descended from his designated seat and approached you. His right hand gracefully flew to his heart and he bowed slightly, his eyes closing for a brief moment.

“Greetings, my lady,” he said, straightening himself elegantly as his brown eyes met yours. He took your worn briefcase from your hand and placed it gently in the carriage’s wide storage compartment in the back. Then, he slid aside the long curtains and extended his hand toward you.

This was it. The moment you stepped into that carriage, you would leave this wretched life behind forever. No more grime, no more being hidden away like some shameful secret. You would be free– or at least you clung to the hope of freedom.

Taking the coachman’s hand, you felt the fine material of your simple sage gown– one begrudgingly gifted by King Orion– brush against the spotless steps of the carriage. You could hardly believe you, of all people, had the privilege of entering something so grand, so expensive.

For one last time, you glanced back at your so-called family. They stood there, masks with feigned expressions of sorrow worn over their faces. But you weren’t fooled, and you certainly weren’t going to indulge them. Instead, a slow grin crept across your face and you mouthed a few words that served as a final act of defiance.

“Shitty lives for shitty people, I guess.”

“.... lady,”

“My….”

“My lady!”

“Hm…” You muttered drowsily, your eyelids slowly fluttering open to the sight of the coachman and several other servants peering in at you with concerned expressions. Startled, you shot upright, your hands grasping the seat beneath you. “Y-Yes!”

So far, you were off to a great start.

But now, as you finally stepped out of the carriage and beheld the regal palace before you, every bit of exhaustion from the long ride seemed to dissolve. The sight of it stole your breath and you tried to conjure up a word to describe it, but words escaped you. Beautiful, perhaps, though even that felt insufficient. Magnificent, maybe.

There were towering stone sculptures and a large marble fountain in the center, its water elegantly cascading down like it was raining crystals. The front lawn was meticulously trimmed and maintained till perfection. The walls of the palace shined, built from pale limestone that you recognized from years of working with fire and sedimentary rocks. And at the peak of the palace dome, a lone flag fluttered in the breeze, proudly displaying the Royal Crest of Aquaria.

Your home now.

Yet, no lines of maids awaited your arrival at the main entrance, as you’d always imagined from reading those fairytale books you’d find tucked away in your attic. And there was certainly no sign of your supposed fiancé— His Imperial Highness, Itoshi Rin, the Second Prince of the Empire.

But then again, it made sense. You were just a humble village girl, after all— hardly worth the attention of someone as important as him.

The sudden neighing of a horse behind you jolted you from your thoughts, and you spun around. There, your gaze locked with the prettiest set of eyes you had ever seen— legendary teal irises framed by lashes so thick they casted a shadow on his cheekbones.

If the palace was magnificent, then he was simply breathtaking.

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you instinctively took a step forward toward him, prepared to pinch fistfuls of your dress and bow down to him.

He must be your fiancé, you thought. How could he not be? Those eyes were a symbol of royalty. His dark, reddish hair swayed with every blow of the wind, and the way an exquisite sapphire brooch shone against his royal attire screamed authority.

What did they call this phenomenon? Love at first sight? But then—

“Welcome back, Your Imperial Highness the Crown Prince!” a unified set of voices suddenly echoed from behind you in greeting, and you whipped your head back to see every servant and the carriage driver on their knees, their heads bowed low, and their hands clutched to their chests.

Crown Prince? Your breath caught in your throat. The Crown Prince? In other words, the future Emperor of Aquaria?

His gaze left yours to briefly sweep over the kneeling palace workers, before he waved his hand dismissively. “Rise.” he ordered. His deep voice made you feel a sudden tightening in your throat, and you had the urge to obey though you weren’t even on your knees.

When his eyes returned to you, you flinched, every nerve of your body feeling on edge. You drew in a sufficient amount of fresh air and held onto bunches of your gown, bowing respectfully.

“G-Greetings, Your Imperial Highness,” you stuttered.

Sae guided his horse to a halt and swung his leg over the saddle, dismounting and landing on the grass smoothly. He gave the mare a gentle pat, and you suddenly felt conscious as he approached you in long strides.

He stopped just in front of you, eyes seemingly studying you. “You are?”

You swallowed nervously, daring to meet his aquamarine gaze. “Y/N,” you said softly, “The Second Imperial Prince’s fiancée.”

His eyes narrowed and he closed them fleetingly before opening them again. “I see… That foolish younger brother of mine.”

You remained silent, unsure of how to respond. Your sparkling eyes flickered to his mare standing patiently beside him for a moment too long. Her coat was as white as fresh snow, and it almost hurt your eyes the way the sunlight reflected off her.

He noticed. “Oh, her?” He nodded toward the horse, gesturing for you to come closer. “Go on. You can touch her if you wish.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief, trodding towards him in excitement. “May I, really?”

“Sure, whatever,” he muttered nonchalantly, though his gaze softened slightly. He was more focused on observing the horse’s reaction to you.

With careful hands, you reached out and gently raked your fingers through her silky mane. A delighted giggle escaped your lips as the fauna neighed softly and nudged your hand for more of your kind attention.

“She’s beautiful,” you whispered, and he hummed in interest. You paused for a moment, glancing at the prince curiously. “What’s her name?”

“Celestia,” he replied, pulling on the horse’s rein before folding his arms over his chest. He watched you interact with the animal. “She rarely warms up to anyone, but it seems as if she likes you.”

Your eyes lit up with surprise and you smiled, your fingers still tangled in the horse’s mane. “Celestia is a beautiful name… It suits her. She’s as white as the moon.”

For a brief moment, the prince turned his head to the side, as if he was hiding something from your view. He wouldn’t admit it, but he’d trust anyone his beautiful horse liked. His fingers slipped through his tousled red hair, and though his voice slightly carried a tone of arrogance, it was also laced with something else. “Tch. Thanks. I named her myself.”

You laughed lightly, “How old is she?”

“Turning nine soon,” he answered, giving her a pat. “She’s the mother of a black stallion.”

Your eyes twinkled in awe, fists clenched in front of you as you beamed up at him. “She’s a mother?!”

Sae raised a brow, leaning back slightly. “You’re standing too close.”

“A-Ah, my apologies, Your Highness,” You stuttered, retreating several steps just in case. “I… I seem to have forgotten my place,”

“No, it’s quite alr—” He started, lifting a hand as if to stop you from backing away, but was interrupted by one of the pesky servants from Rin’s wing of the palace. “...”

“I-I apologize for interrupting y-your conversation, Your Imperial Highness,” She panted, bowing low, “But The Second Prince has requested his fiancée’s presence for a private audience.”

Sae clicked his tongue in annoyance, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he mounted Celestia. “I guess it cannot be helped. Fine, whatever.”

Your heart sank slightly, a wave of disappointment looming over your ethereal features. Your pretty eyes downcast and fists clenched lightly by your sides. You had hoped to stay just a little longer, either with the man you had mistaken for your fiancé or perhaps with the beautiful horse. You weren’t sure which had captured your fascination more.

You thought that, perhaps, if Rin was not unlike his brother, then marrying him probably wouldn’t be so bad.

Still, with a deep breath, you held onto your skirt and followed the maid. But just before you left, you glanced back over your shoulder at the First Prince with a smile so pretty it could coax the sun out of the sky and make even the stars envious.

“See you around, Your Highness!” You called out, waving your arm before turning around to trail after the servant woman.

Sae stood frozen for a heartbeat, his thoughts clouded by the ghost of that smile. Something stirred in his chest, something unfamiliar and probably unwelcome. He huffed quietly, silking his hand through his hair before muttering under his breath.

“Yeah… see you.”

Your heart raced as you stood before the polished double doors of Rin’s chamber. You swallowed hard in an attempt to calm your nerves. Your breaths came in shallow, like there was some sort of invisible weight pressed against your chest.

Your hand hesitantly hovered mere inches from the door. You hadn’t even met the man and yet the tension was thicker than when you had personally greeted the crown prince.

The maid beside you fidgeted, clearly just as anxious. She stammered softly, “My lady… j-just knock and wait for his word. I-I’ll take my leave now.”

You nodded, watching her scurry away so quickly as if she couldn’t wait to be out of the prince’s domain. You blinked in thought— if the servants in this wing were this jumpy around him, it didn’t bode well.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling fingers. After whispering a few reassurances to yourself, you finally raised your knuckles and knocked gently on the door.

No answer.

A few more seconds passed before you tried again, but this time you heard a deep, irritated voice call out.

“Enter.”

You gulped and planted your hands on the heavy door, pushing it open. The moment you stepped in, you held in your breath. The interior was extravagant beyond words– a room fit for royalty, as expected.

Your enlarged eyes scanned the deluxe chamber, mouth unintentionally falling agape at all it held. But the awe immediately vanished as your gaze landed on Rin. The prince stood by a grand archtop window with his back to you, gazing down at the Aquaria Royal Gardens— which, to compare in size, were bigger than your whole village fit together.

He turned at the sound of your entrance, his sharp eyes immediately narrowing with a look of disdain. His voice was flat, yet annoyed. “Quit ogling and close the door behind you.”

It was an order, and you felt your body immediately move on its own. Your hands fumbled as you quickly shut the door, unable to keep the heat of embarrassment from rising to your cheeks. You lowered your gaze, focusing on the rosa aurora marble floor beneath you.

Rin’s eyes raked over you, his foot tapping on the floor impatiently. His eyes were just as icy as his brother’s, but where Sae had a certain aloofness, Rin’s coldness felt like a blade to the throat. He eventually crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you condescendingly, “No proper greeting?”

Your mind scrambled. “Ah..!” Your fingers gripped onto the fabric of your dress tightly as you bowed stiffly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y-Your Imperial Highness,”

He let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing a hand over his face as if the very sight of you was an inconvenience. “Horrible posture,” he muttered. “Your etiquette needs a lot of work.”

Your heart sank further, and humiliation washed over your whole face. You straightened up and pursed your lips together tightly, the words sticking to your throat like superglue, afraid that whatever you’d say next would only make matters worse.

He remained quiet and turned around, walking to the large seating area in the corner of his chamber. You hesitantly followed after him, taking a seat right beside him on the burgundy plush.

He eyed you sideways, clearly displeased. “...Really?”

“Um…” You shuffled your feet awkwardly, the fabric swishing against your ankles. “Sitting in front of you would be presumptuous of me… How dare I make eye contact with someone as great as you, given my position?”

He rolled his eyes at your words. “How audacious.”

“Oh— Your Highness, you’ve got an eyelash on your cheek,” You started, instinctively reaching out to brush it away. But before your fingers could make contact, his hand snapped out, roughly swatting yours away.

“Don’t fucking touch me, commoner scum.” He hissed.

You immediately withdrew, rubbing your stinging hand gently. You bit your bottom lip to keep quiet. “I apol—”

“Go sit in front.”

You obeyed without question, your body moving on autopilot as you rose from the sofa, taking a seat across from him. If you hadn’t the guts to defy your parents, what made you think you could defy a prince? You didn’t even have the strength to be angry; you were too preoccupied with trying to hold yourself together under his oppressive gaze.

What followed was more of an interrogation than a conversation.

“Can you read?”

“No.”

“Write?”

“No.”

“Table manners?”

“I eat with my hands.”

“... Can you do anything at all?”

Your fingers twisted nervously in your lap as you swallowed thickly, embarrassment creeping up your neck. “I can make really good vegetable soup...”

“...”

The silence stretched out, and you could feel your self-worth slowly becoming nonexistent. After a moment, he stood with a sigh, making you flinch.

You averted your gaze to the window and you tapped your foot anxiously against the floor. You realized you were swallowing thick lumps of nothing more than usual. All his questions were glazed with layers of dripping haughtiness and it hurt when you realized how useless and worthless you were as you answered each one.

“No, this is good,” He assured, almost to himself, as he began unbuttoning his white shirt. You looked up at him, confused.

“Good?” You repeated softly.

Rin approached you with his shirt halfway undone. He stopped just in front of you, leaning down with an expression so intimidating it sent shivers sprinting down your spine. “Do you know why I chose someone as lowly and pathetic as you, peasant?”

You rubbed your clammy palms together and paused. “I think I might have an idea,” You whispered.

“Oh? Continue.”

“You want to win the public’s favour, perhaps?” you guessed carefully, “because it shows a connection to those of lower status…”

He raised a brow, “Hm. You’re smarter than you look.” He admitted.

But his next words made your blood run cold. His hands found your shoulders, his fingers gripping onto them with not much force as he leaned closer. Your gaze ashamedly darted down to his peeking sculpted chest before flicking up to his eyes.

“After I’ve become emperor instead of that shitty brother,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, “you will bear my child. Then, I’ll find a way to get rid of you.”

Your whole body was trembling as soon as his hands left your shoulders. You could feel your teeth clattering slightly as you stared at the floor, unable to speak. You tilted your head up and watched as he slowly slid off an oval-cut sapphire ring, rimmed with shimmering stones of diamond, from his finger.

“Give me your hand,” He ordered impatiently.

You nodded immediately, extending your hand in front of him with starry eyes. Without a word, he slipped the opulent band onto your ring finger, careful not to make contact with your skin. You pulled away and admired the accessory— you’d be set for a thousand lives if you sold this heavy thing.

“Thank you…” You smiled softly.

“This ring is a royal heirloom, along with one other,” He warned, pointing to the Crest engraved in the gemstone. “Do. Not. Lose. It.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at the ring, nodding quickly, “Yes… I won’t.”

“Good. Now go. The maids will show you to your chambers. Be ready for your etiquette lessons tomorrow.”

You rose from the sofa shakily, bowing once more. The difference between this man and the one you’d met earlier was staggering, and you already had a not so vague idea on who you preferred.

“Then I shall see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Your Imperial Highness.”

Your eyelids felt heavy as you tried to open them. You blinked once, twice, three times– your vision blurred with remnants of sleep before gradually sharpening into clarity. But what you saw around you was anything but familiar.

Gone were the days of waking up to dusty cobwebs and the cracks and crevices of a wrecked ceiling that you had grown used to. Instead, your eyes met a vast, polished quartz ceiling, glistening in the morning light. Above you was a fancy chandelier, its long golden-framed vines dripping with crystals, and glass trickled down from the hooks.

You shifted beneath your plush cover and froze for a second, because this soft sensation was just as unfamiliar. No more prickly stacks of straw or thin, rough blankets. No, today, you had woken up in luxury.

As you sat up, memories of yesterday flooded your mind. Oh, right. You were absolutely shocked when you were first led to your room. You could say you were floored by its elegance– far larger and more lavish than any room you had imagined you’d get. Though it still paled in comparison to Rin’s personal quarters, it was hard to grasp that this space was your room.

You remembered indulging yourself in a little tour last night, exploring it in awe. There was a massive walk-in closet, filled to the brim with fine dresses and gowns of rich silks and satins. Accessories like cocktail hats, jewel-studded heels, and purses of gorgeous colours, all of which you couldn’t wait to try, filled the shelves.

The grandest thing you had ever owned prior to this was a ring made of a flower’s stem.

But as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you felt a shiver run up your spine. Your heart jumped as you realized someone was in the room, and you let out a small squeak, instinctively clutching the covers.

“So you’ve finally woken up, my lady,” came a gentle, slightly amused voice.

You blinked rapidly, your gaze locking onto a pair of soft amethyst eyes. The young woman standing beside you had ginger hair that fell to her shoulders in soft curls, her pale cheeks peppered with specks of pretty freckles.

“W-Who are you…?” You asked carefully.

The woman set a pair of fluffy cotton slippers on the floor beside your bed, then gave you a small curtsy. “Eleanor, my lady. I am your lady-in-waiting.”

You slid your feet into the slippers, still feeling a little dazed. Eleanor busied herself with smoothing the bed linens as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “Meaning..?” you echoed, sitting up straighter.

She chuckled lightly. “Meaning I’ll attend to your personal needs and assist you with your duties to make sure you are well taken care of.” She gave you a smile, “You’re new to all this, aren’t you?”

You looked down at the marble bashfully, nodding your head, and admitted softly, “Yes…”

“Haha, that’s quite alright. But let’s not waste anymore time! We have to get you ready for today!”

“... Huh?”

You were absolutely pampered.

The question constantly lingered— what had you done to deserve this? Probably nothing but you were thankful that you went in the stead of your older sister.

Just a short while ago, you had been treated to the greatest bath of your life, courtesy of Eleanor. She had insisted it was part of her duty as your lady-in-waiting, but it seriously felt like a ritual reserved for queens. She skillfully massaged your muscles and rubbed your scalp with rosewater serenade. And when her hands worked authentic vanilla lather across your skin, you smelled like a warm, freshly baked biscuit. An upgrade from your baths in the river.

Currently, you were seated on a leathered stool as Eleanor combed through your hair with care. The reflection in the mirror in front could leave you gushing over yourself for hours. Your gown was a waterfall of midnight blue silk with intricate silver embroidery. Your waist was still uncomfortable from the pressure of the tight corset, but the result was definitely worth it.

A delicate web of pearls hung from around your neck, cool against your collarbone. You absentmindedly toyed with the silver tassel earrings as Eleanor finished adding the final sprinkle of silver glitter to your styled hair.

“You look absolutely breathtaking, my lady!” She exclaimed as she clapped her hands together to dust off the excess shimmer.

You smiled admiringly, turning your head left and right. “Thank you, Eleanor. I never thought I could look like this...”

You stood from the stool, walking towards the door before her voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Wait, my lady!”

You turned, watching as she carefully presented a delicate box etched with faint leaf patterns. Nestled inside were a pristine pair of white fine lace gloves that were long enough to elegantly reach the elbows.

“His Imperial Highness the Second Prince has ordered that you must wear these whenever you are with him,” She said quietly.

“Ah. Thanks.”

You understood. It was slightly disappointing that your fiancé would go to such lengths to avoid touching you. Was the prospect of touching you truly that distasteful to him? But you shrugged off the thought and removed your heirloom ring before sliding the gloves on. You put back the ring on top. It wasn’t everyday you got to wear something this refined. Perhaps it would be everyday from now on…

But then, the memory of Rin’s chilling words echoed through your mind. “Then, I’ll find a way to get rid of you.”

Your heart clenched and you shook your head. As long as you did as commanded, you were sure you’d be fine.

“Let’s go, Eleanor.”

Your body tensed under the penetrating gazes of the countless servants. Their stares followed you as you walked down the Main Hall of the right wing, heading towards the heart of the palace.

They weren’t even trying to hide their gossip. Why would they? Servants here were no ordinary peasants, they were people of the lowest class of nobility. Sons and daughters of Earls, Counts, Barons.

“His Highness must be smitten,” one maid said, “Just look at her dress!”

“Isn’t she from the slums?”

“And she wears the Royal Heirloom on her finger!”

“So, the rumours were true, then?”

“I heard she thought she'd be marrying the Crown Prince.”

“Pftt, That’s embarrassing.”

The hushed whispers suddenly quieted down to zero, and you assumed it was probably Eleanor’s doing because you could literally feel her piercing gaze though she was trailing respectfully behind you.

“It’s alright, Eleanor, leave them al—”

The words died in your throat the moment you caught sight of him– the man you first encountered when you arrived at the palace. He was exiting the Council Hall, deep in conversation with what looked like an advisor or high-ranking official. Your heart skipped a beat as you instinctively lifted the hem of your dress and rushed towards him.

“Your Highness!” you called out, your voice chirpier than you had intended.

He turned at the sound of your familiar voice, his eyes widening just slightly in surprise. For a fleeting moment, it seemed you had embodied the grace of a princess… had your heel not caught beneath you. You stumbled, eyes squeezing shut as you braced yourself for the fall. But instead of tasting the cold, hard floor, a pair of strong hands caught you, steadying you by your waist.

“Careful,” he warned softly, his hands lingering for just a moment before falling back to his sides. “You’re not used to heels.”

You laughed awkwardly, but you could not hide the disappointment that washed over your expression as his hands left you. “No, it’s my first time.”

He paused. His eyes stayed on you for a moment longer than they should, taking in the way your dress perfectly complimented your figure. But he realized this, and his gaze quickly shifted to the golden deer emblem mounted on the wall.

“You… look different,” He continued, rubbing the back of his neck.

The hall suddenly felt hot, or maybe it was just the heat radiating from your face. You dipped your head, fiddling with your clad fingers. “Oh, do I…?” you sputtered softly, but you silently cursed yourself for replying in such an awkward manner. Of course you looked different!

“Ahem,” Eleanor chimed in, coughing into her fist dramatically. “Not to interrupt, but I hear some alarming footsteps…”

“If you slack off one more fucking time, I’ll display your decapitated head on a pike to serve as an example for your pathetic kind!” a voice yelled from behind.

Rin stepped out the Council Hall, his face an angry scowl as he finished lashing at the minister who scurried away like a frightened animal. His eyes then flickered towards you and his older brother, and his expression soured further.

He turned to look at your lady-in-waiting, speaking sternly. “I thought I told you to bring her to my study,”

“We were on our way, Your Imperial Highness,” Eleanor responded politely, bowing her head.

“Incompetent.”

Rin’s attention shifted to you, noticing the lacey white covering up to your elbows. Without warning, he inched forward and closed the distance between you, his hand snaking around your waist. You tensed as his not unwelcome grip pulled you closer, your palm instinctively flying up to settle on his chest. You looked up at him gently, hesitantly, but his eyes weren’t on you– they were locked on his older brother.

He eyed his brother suspiciously, “What are you still doing here?” He asked. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for your trip to Berlina?”

“Berlina…?” You repeated in confusion.

“The Kingdom of Sorcery and Magic,” Eleanor quickly whispered into your ear, leaning in with her palm covering her mouth.

Sae’s expression remained indifferent, clearly unbothered. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on more important matters right now?” He let his eyes wander lazily towards your hand on Rin’s chest before he smirked. “Like… sharpening your embarrassingly inadequate swordsmanship skills?”

Rin’s face contorted in anger and his neck flushed a deep red. His grip on your shoulder tightened just enough to make you wince. “You bastard… You’ll regret this.” He seethed through clenched teeth.

The Second Prince glanced back at Eleanor in disgust, “You’re dismissed.”

He looked back at you, noticing your extravagant dress, before furrowing his brows. “The dress you’re wearing is too fancy for a day with no important occasion.”

You glanced down at your blue gown and shrugged. “Eleanor chose it for me,”

“Who?”

“—I personally think it suits her just right.” Sae broke in suddenly, wearing a smirk on his face as though he found pleasure in annoying his younger brother.

Rin narrowed his eyes at him. “Who asked for your opinion? And what were you two talking about, anyway?”

The Crown Prince hummed, leaning against the wall behind him. “Let’s see. Well, I told her she looked different, and helped her up when she tripped on her heels.”

“Tch.”

“But be careful,” Sae’s lips twitched into a small grin, his gaze drifting to meet your eyes. “keep your eyes on this beauty else I might steal her from you. Isn’t that right, my lady?”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Your Highness, even if you joke around like that, I don’t think my heart can take it–” you whispered, and Sae chuckled lightly, though Rin quickly pulled you behind him.

“That’s enough, stay away from her.” He glared, barely affecting Sae. “Your little jokes aren’t funny.”

“Who said I was joking?” The eldest quipped nonchalantly, and Rin just rolled his eyes.

“Let’s go.” He exasperated, holding onto your wrist and dragging you alongside him.

As his hand guided you away, you looked over your shoulder, searching for a familiar pair of tourmaline eyes. Ones identical to those of your fiancé’s. But instead, all you saw was a broad back and auburn hair shifting as he walked away in the opposite direction.

Rin slammed his fist against the hardwood of his desk. That interaction seemed to have spilled gasoline to the blue flames in his eyes, which were already burning with rage. “That bastard thinks he can keep playing games with me!”

You remained still, hands folded patiently over your abdomen. The last thing you wanted to do was provoke him further.

After a tense silence, Rin let out a sigh and collapsed into the plush seat behind his desk. “It’s alright,” he began, his voice softening just slightly. His gaze locked onto you in a way that made blood rush quicker through your veins. “You’re my ticket to becoming the emperor—” He leaned forward. “I need you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at those words, but you knew not to expect much. Still, you mustered a sweet smile. “I’ll do my best, Your Highness. You were mentioning today’s schedule…?”

He leaned back, propping his arm on the armrest. “Right. My father is holding our engagement ball next week. Every noble house will be there to congratulate us. In the week leading up to it, you will perfect your manners and court etiquette. Understood?”

You gulped hard as a huge bag of responsibility was suddenly thrown onto your back. A week? To not work on, but perfect everything?

“...Understood.”

—

“... After you master public speaking skills,” Rin went on, “you’ll focus on formal dining etiquette. I don’t want you embarrassing me by eating with your hands. Then, you’ll have dancing lessons and study Royal Dress standards. You also need to be familiar with Aquaria’s history, diplomacy, and customs– especially royal protocols and responsibilities, and….”

His voice continued on, listing task after task. Your head was spinning, and you thought you were going to faint and collapse to the ground. This wasn’t the fairytale you’d imagined. You signed up for the fun part of being a princess— the ballgowns and the makeup, and maybe kissing the prince. This was a chore, the kind that made growing carrots and potatoes seem like heaven in comparison.

“By the end of this week, I expect you to be flawless. I’ve brought in the best tutors for reading, writing, and everything else– all that easy stuff. Do not disappoint me.”

You nodded automatically, but not before adding an innocent thought that had slipped into your mind, in a slightly sarcastic manner. “Have you perfected your swordplay, though?”

Now the temperature in the room seemed to drop down to zero as he bore his narrowed eyes at you. You felt a cold shiver run up all your bones, and your knees weakened. “You think you’re funny don’t you? Do you really want to play this game with me?”

Your bravado crumbled. “N-No…”

“Then get some rest,” he ordered. “Your training starts this afternoon.”

You nodded and quietly turned to leave the study.

Six long days had passed by since your lessons began. Six mentally and physically exhausting days.

Your dance instructor was a strict middle aged lady with sharp eyes and an even sharper tongue, who worked you till your feet were bruised. She made you balance books and vases on top of your head as you marched back and forth, her shrill voice cutting you off whenever your posture was horrible, or when you mixed up the steps for a dance made for another song. Although you loathed her guts, you couldn’t deny the significant improvement of your poise.

The dinner etiquette lessons, however, offered a time-out from that hag. Yes, you learned the basics of formal dining– how to keep your elbows off the table, chew with your mouth closed, use the silver utensils correctly, and pat your lips clean with the patterned napkins. But, the best part, or reward, was tasting the delicacies they served. Truffles, lobster coated with butter, and tender lamb chops. And then there were the fancy desserts– macarons pumped with ganache filling, puff pastry, tartelette au citron, éclair au chocolat, and more.

All of which you had never dreamt of tasting in your life, you who had never tasted anything more luxurious than a loaf of bread.

You also learned how to read and write, not for the reasons you preferred, but good nonetheless. You had found a particular fondness for the history lessons, which were not tedious at all. You were focused at all times much to your mentor’s surprise. Learning about the Royal family’s reign— how they had ruled over neighboring lands for centuries, managing resources, trade, and finance— fascinated you.

But your ears always managed to tune in and pick up the subtle gossip rotating among the maids and servants in the halls and libraries, so you had learned a few things.

The two princes were locked in a one-sided rivalry. One was fighting crystal and pickaxe for the crown, while the true heir showed little interest in the throne he was destined to inherit.

Sae, the eldest, wasn’t just entitled to the crown by birthright. He excelled at everything– swordplay, defense, archery, and horseback riding for royal ceremonies or simple trips to cities. His skills were polished to literal perfection. Rin, on the other hand, was skilled, but not extraordinary. He always lived in the shadow of his brother.

Yet Rin’s desire to become emperor wasn’t merely a wish— it was a burning, desperate need, an ambition to prove himself worthy. To finally win against Sae.

Killing his brother, of course, was out of the question— such an act would be treason. Besides, Rin didn’t just want him gone; he wanted Sae to see the moment when he ascended the throne, to admit defeat, to acknowledge that Rin had bested him.

Rin believed that the key to winning favour with their father—the current emperor—and the people was to flaunt his achievements, which, to remention, were not as good as Sae’s. But his sharp tongue and cold demeanor made it difficult for him to win many hearts. Sae learned to place a mask behind his foul words, whereas Rin still struggled to.

And that’s where you came into the picture.

You weren’t just his fiancée; you were part of his strategy. He’ll show you off before the court and the public, showcasing to the world how he transformed a mere commoner, a peasant, into someone of worth.

You came from a disgusting, needy village, yet now you stood in royal fits. To Rin, you were a symbol showing his ability to elevate those beneath him. A tool to gain the favour of the people. You could read and write now, you were beautiful, and in the eyes of the kingdom, you had the potential to become the empress one day— if, of course, Rin managed to seize the crown from his brother.

—

It was late at night, and the moon’s natural light filtered through your curtains. You moved to your huge window and brushed aside the rosegold-embroidered fabric as you peered down at the Royal Gardens. The view was similar to that of Rin’s, since your chambers were three spare rooms away from each other.

You were exhausted, but you always had time to admire the water spilling down elegantly from the angel sculptures’ stone lips, or the beautiful shrubs clipped into topiaries.

But all the exhaustion you felt moments ago suddenly vanished when your eyes caught sight of someone unexpected.

It was the Crown Prince. You had seen Sae around the palace during these tiring six days, and you’ve engaged in many small talks with him without Rin’s knowledge. Conversations flew naturally with him, he asked you about your life before the engagement, and though you were initially hesitant, you found yourself speaking openly with him. There was a strange ease to Sae that, oddly enough, only you seemed to feel.

You stared at him a bit too long, your gaze almost boring a hole into him, and he sensed it.

Pivoting on his heel, he made direct eye contact with you from below. A soft gasp escaped your lips, and you hurriedly pulled the curtain closed. But he could still see your silhouette, and when you peeked your head out slightly from the curtain, you could’ve sworn you’d seen him chuckle.

With a quick gesture of his hand, he beckoned you down to the gardens. Your pretty eyes widened, but you found yourself nodding eagerly with no hesitation. How could you refuse?

—

Panting softly between giggles, you rested your hands on your knees.

“I can’t believe you ran to meet me in your… nightgown,” Sae remarked, his lips curving into a subtle smirk.

You straightened and boldly stepped closer until you were only centimeters away from him. Your eyes twinkled in the moonlight, and you shone a smile brighter than la lune.

Sae’s breath caught in his throat as your face came full view and he felt his body still. You were Rin’s fiancée– he shouldn't be looking at you like this. But the glow of moonlight was making it hard…

“... You’re beautiful,” the words slipped out naturally.

Heat flooded the sweet curves of your cheeks at the way he said it so casually, so suddenly. Your gaze dropped to the freshly cut grass, your fingers nervously tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Thank you,” you muttered quietly, your voice barely above a hush.

Silence followed. But comfortable, nonetheless. Then, you noticed his hand, palm up and waiting in front of you. You blinked up at him in confusion.

“I am aware that I am in no position to do this, but…” He paused, “May I have this dance?”

Your eyebrows shot up comically in surprise, glistening doe eyes widening for the hundredth time tonight. Your heart was thumping so fast you thought it might burst from your chest, and you feared he might hear it.

It was risky, you knew that. If Rin were awake, he might have been watching from his window– his chambers were so close to yours. You knew how much he enjoyed looking from his window from the time you’ve spent together in the past week. But, he had dismissed you earlier to rest and this moment alone with Sae was tempting.

Hesitantly, your hand hovered over his before relaxing and letting it fall in his grasp. You met his gaze, and you shyly whispered,

“I know we’re not supposed to be doing this… but I want to.” Your fingers intertwined with his, and you smiled softly. “May I have this honour, Your Imperial Highness the Crown Prince?”

Sae glanced down at your hand weaved between his fingers. His brows furrowed in a frown, and a wave of panic washed over you. You literally felt your heart leap out of your chest. Had you overstepped your boundaries?

“I was only kidd—”

But instead of pulling away, he gently hooked his finger under the wristband of your glove, sliding it off your hand. You felt warmth bloom across your cheeks as he slowly removed the other glove too, making sure to leave his touch lingering on your bare skin.

“You don’t need to wear these ridiculous gloves to bed,” he said, “It’s unnecessary.”

Your cœur fluttered. “I… I just forgot,” you mumbled, embarrassed.

He rolled his eyes, but his lips quirked into a smile as he clasped your now bare hand, while the other found its place on your waist. The fabric of your silk nightgown was thin, and his touch felt intimate, direct, and you could feel his fingertips pressing lightly against your skin.

He led you in a slow dance gracefully under the protective gaze of the serene moon, delicately spinning you before your arms naturally draped around his neck. His hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you closer. He looked so good, he smelled so good, his touch so gentle. You wanted him.

“Do you like these gardens?” He asked suddenly, giving you another twirl.

You nodded, lacing your fingers in his. “I do. It’s quiet. The palace can be… overwhelming.”

Sae raised a brow, “Overwhelming, huh? For someone like you, I suppose it would be.”

The words stung slightly, but there was no malice in his voice. You dared to meet the eyes you came to adore, “And you? Why are you here, Your Highness?”

He paused, then turned slightly. “I’m avoiding another council meeting. You’d be surprised how tedious it can be listening to old men argue for hours on end.”

You laughed softly, and for a brief moment, his eyes softened. He pointed toward a part of the garden in the distance. “Come with me,” he said simply.

You followed, trembling as the Crown Prince led you with his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist. When you came to a stop, your breath caught in awe. Before you were roses of every shade– deep crimson, soft peach, porcelain white, and candy pink.

“They’re gorgeous,” you gasped.

“Right.” Sae bent down and plucked a single red rose from the bush, turning to you with a small, rare smile. “The red ones are my favorite,” he murmured, carefully tucking the rose into your hair.

You smiled sheepishly, gently patting the rose he’d placed. “They remind me of strawberry ja—”

“They remind me of blood,” he interrupted with a casual voice.

You blinked, startled by his answer. “R-Right.”

He chuckled softly, rubbing the area around his neck. “I can see why Rin chose you.”

You looked at him for a few seconds before quickly shaking your head. “He didn’t choose me, he just wanted any girl from our clan. My older sister was supposed to go, but I went in her stead. Besides, I’m nothing special… just convenient.”

“Convenient?” His gaze darkened slightly before his hand came up to rest on your chin. “...Don’t sell yourself short. You’re more than that.”

Your head quickly tilted down and you began to fiddle with your fingers, then with the simple lace adorning your neck. “Your Highness– stop saying things that make my heart, I don’t know, hurt?”

“Oh?” He placed his hands gently on your cheeks and you looked up at him lovingly. “That isn’t good for Rin, is it?”

You shook your head, “No, it isn’t. But he doesn’t make me feel this way.” You boldly placed your palms on his shoulders and stood on your tippy toes, and as soon as he leaned down slightly in approval, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

He tapped his forehead against yours and smiled. His heart was beating a bit quicker, and he found it dangerous. “Well, I’m afraid I must leave now.” He drawled.

Your heart sank a little, your ethereal eyes flicking down. You nodded slowly, “Thank you for your time, Your Highness.”

He looked down at you, his expression softening. Slowly, he lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to your skin. “It was a pleasure, my lady.”

If he couldn’t hear your heart thundering in your chest one thousand miles per hour moments ago, then he sure could now. As he disappeared, you placed your hand over your chest, rubbing over the spot where he’d kissed.

It seemed like Sae had yet again bested Rin in a game neither had realized they were playing.

Tonight was your engagement ball, the grand celebration that would officially announce your impending marriage to Rin.

You were both in his chamber, dressed fully in fancy outfits. He wore an elegant white attire adorned with the brooch of Aquaria and a navy blue sash draped across his chest. You wore a pitch black gown embroidered with gold, matching gloves, and heavy golden jewelry that Rin had exclusively bought for you.

The party had already begun downstairs, the grand ballroom filled with the most important guests from across the empire. But the grand entrance of the soon-to-be bride and groom had to wait for the Emperor’s speech, set to occur an hour after the festivities commenced.

“It’s a lunar eclipse,” you mused admiringly, leaning against the window. The moon, bloody red from the umbra, hung in the night sky ominously. “I’ve read about the phenomenon in the Royal Library. The stars look so close… they look like they could fall right into our hands.”

Rin rolled his eyes and walked closer to you, resting his hand on your further shoulder. He stared out the window in boredom. “How poetic,” he muttered sarcastically. “Even the moon is congratulating us tonight.”

You turned your gaze from the sky to him, your hand gently smoothing out a small wrinkle on his sash. “It’s time, isn’t it? We should head to the Ballroom.”

He grumbled in response, pushing your hand aside as if your touch was unnecessary.

The intricate grandfather clock suddenly chimed loudly. Midnight had arrived.

Tick.

“In the Twilight of the Eclipsing Red Moon…”

Tick.

“When Stars Align and Shadows Loom…”

Tick.

A strange voice seemed to rise from nowhere. You flinched visibly, a shiver creeping up your spine as the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You quickly found Rin’s hand and grasped it tightly.

“D-Did you hear that?” You shuddered, voice trembling.

He raised an eyebrow. “Hear what? You’re imagining things.”

You shook your head, swallowing hard. “No… I swear, I heard something– like a voice. It was…”

He scoffed, shaking his head dismissively. “It’s just the clock ticking. Don’t start getting all nervous on me now.” His grip tightened around your hand, but you doubted it was for your comfort. “You’re going to be on your best performance for me, Got it?”

You hesitantly nodded, your gaze lingering on the moon for a few more seconds. The red, eerie glow still haunted your thoughts. You reluctantly turned away, looping your arm through Rin’s to exit the chamber and enter the grandeur.

“Yes…”

“And I want to thank you all once more for attending tonight’s ball,” The Emperor’s proclamation boomed from behind the closed doors. The attention of every soul present was on him. “I would now like to announce the formal entry of The Second Prince of Aquaria, and his fiancée, a soon-to-be princess, Y/N!”

The large doors, decorated with orchids and bloody red roses, parted dramatically to reveal you and Rin hand in hand. The Royal Guards on each side immediately stiffened and raised gloved hands to their head in salute.

The aristocrats hushed immediately and their eyes followed as you both stepped onto the red carpet, descending the grand staircase and heading towards the two thrones.

You halted just below the steps of the thrones, immediately lowering your head in a bow of respect alongside Rin.

“Greetings, Your Imperial Majesties,” you murmured, lifting your head as you learned to.

“... Thank you, Father, Mother,” Rin’s voice followed formally.

Your gaze shifted towards the Empress. You particularly loved her as her lovely crimson hair always seemed to remind you of Sae. Oh, speaking of the Crown Prince, where was he? You hadn’t caught a glimpse of him yet.

You turned your head, eyes subtly scanning the room in search of a distinct redhead. And in the corner of your eye, you found him leaning casually against a balcony pillar, arms folded over his chest and eyes closed.

Your gaze softened at the sight of him before refocusing on the mob of aristocratic ladies and noblemen that had rushed to circle your betrothed as soon as the Imperial Greetings were over. They approached and offered smiles under snobby and vexing expressions, backhanded compliments under the guise of praise.

“Such a refreshing choice, Your Imperial Highness!” A brunette lady gibed, fanning herself with an elegant fan as she slyly smirked, “You’ve truly outdone us all in… originality.”

A Lord chuckled beside her, his laugh insufferably pompous. “I must say, Your Highness, I certainly admire you embracing such humble roots! A prince of the people! Ho ho ho!”

“I’m glad we have such a reliable prince who values all his subjects equally!”

“It is odd that His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince hasn’t found a lady yet.” One brought up.

An Earl added, “That’s true. He’s supposed to step up to the throne sooner or later. He needs an heir once he becomes Emperor.”

You squeezed Rin’s hand discreetly as he bit his lip in frustration at the mention of his brother. He needed to restrain himself at least this one time.

“I appreciate your sentiments–” he began, but faltered for a split second. “No I fucking don—” You squeezed his hand again, giving him a gentle nudge, and he cleared his throat. “Your support is reassuring,” he finished with a strained smile.

As your fiancé continued chatting with the backhanded nobles, your attention kept drifting towards Sae, stealing quick glances every now and then. He had begun conversing with a group of higher officials and ministers, likely discussing Berlina, The Kingdom of Sorcery and Magic that he had frequented many times to strengthen the Empire’s growing alliances.

Loud enchanting music began to play from the orchestra and many already established couples began to dance in the center. Expensive and rare gifts began to pile at your feet, congratulatory offerings from various guests. Rin accepted them indifferently and reluctantly offered his thanks with as much enthusiasm as the stone sculptures that lined the ballroom.

“This jewel was found in the Ancient land of Topion and is thought to bring good fortune!”

“This exotic bird from Elakis produces gold everytime it sings!”

“This sword is forged by a legendary ghost smith whose body lives in the volcanic depths of Loo!”

You froze when Sae stepped forward as the next gifter, and it seemed like the entire room was also holding its breath. He approached, your widened eyes drifting down to the elegant box in his hand. He opened it, revealing an intricate necklace with shimmering, round pearls.

“An authentic pearl necklace crafted by the Merman Emperor of Eau.” Sae presented with his usual calm demeanor, making it hard to believe that he had spent days negotiating with the merman to create a necklace exclusively suitable for you.

Your mouth parted in surprise, and the words tumbled out. “Oh– thank you! It’s… beautiful.”

Rin rolled his eyes, gently fisting your hair and lifting it to expose your neck. “You didn’t have to do that,” He hissed through gritted teeth, looking at Sae with teal eyes that crinkled in hate.

Sae met his brother’s glare with a simple hum, fastening the beaded necklace around your neck. You bit your lip tightly as his touch lingered on your skin, looking down at the pearls that beautifully settled against your collarbone. “That would be disrespectful to you both, I’m afraid,” He said. “Even Our Father, the Emperor, has offered her pleasantries.”

Rin clicked his tongue and looked back at you, wrapping his arm possessively around your waist and pulling you closer to him. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, catching you by surprise. The Crown Prince narrowed his eyes at the gesture.

“Come on, darling,” Rin emphasized as he spat out the term of endearment, though he internally cringed and wanted the ballroom to rupture and swallow him whole. The pet name left a bitter taste at the tip of his tongue. “It’s time for our dance.”

You nodded, your lips parting to speak, but, “Of course, Your High—”

“The Great’s Fate is Sealed in the Veil of Night…”

That haunting voice again. Your ears were ringing. You quickly squeezed your eyes shut and froze in your tracks.

“...By the Hand of One from Mystic Light.”

“I-It’s the voice again!” You whimpered, hands flying to your ears in a desperate attempt to block out the sound. “I hear it!”

Rin scoffed loudly, glancing left and right at the guests who were exchanging confused looks. Sae, on the other hand, seemed out of it, with half-closed, bleary eyes.

“Quit it, you fool!” Rin cursed in annoyance, his patience snapping. He grabbed you by your shoulders and yanked you to his chest away from their judgemental gazes.

“Voice? I don’t hear anything,” a lady whispered.

“Neither do I,” someone else chimed in.

A voice snickered, “She said ‘again’.”

“His Imperial Highness must be marrying someone with auditory hallucinations.” The words stung as they left another noble’s mouth.

Then, in an instant, the ballroom plunged into darkness as the bright chandeliers went out. The ballroom was only illuminated by the glow of a large bolt of lightning, and a thunder rattled so violently it deafened you and shook the windows. When the bulbs flickered back on, a shrill lady’s voice pierced the silent room.

“T-The Crown Prince! He’s not moving!”

All eyes shot to Sae, who lay motionless and graceful on the floor, hand on top of hand. He looked calm, as though he was merely resting.

You gasped in fear, hands flying to your mouth as you tried to stay balanced on your feet. Rin’s eyes in particular were the widest. The atmosphere in the room immediately shifted to terror as everyone noticed the ink-blue vines creeping slowly up his neck, thorn designs wrapping themselves around his throat.

“T-That’s… Alexis’ Curse!” The Emperor panicked.

You had read about it. Alexis’ Curse—an ancient legend of a wizard scorned by love. His heart had been shattered by the daughter of a shoemaker, Michelle Kaiser, who had chosen her Earl lover over him. She always refused Alexis’ advances, and the gifts he’d always present.

Enraged, Alexis had cursed the Earl, condemning him to a fate of eternal sleep unless the one he loved kissed him to break the spell. The curse wasn't one of eternal youth, however—the body continued to age, to decay, until there was nothing left but ugly bones.

But because Alexis had disposed of his inked body in his tower, the Earl had died alone, Michelle never finding him.

The curse had become a myth, that Alexis’ wrath was aimed at those of high status, warning them of the dangers of meddling with those beneath them.

But the nobles’ faces were literally drained of colour because what had once been myth was now terrifyingly real, before their very eyes.

It had been a few weeks since the disaster during your engagement party.

They had sealed Sae’s lifeless body deep in a chamber within the Main Palace’s basement. You attempted sneaking in multiple times, but you failed– the entry was heavily guarded and there was too much risk. And besides, if slipping past your lady-in-waiting wasn’t hard enough, Rin had become increasingly possessive as the possibility of being promoted to Crown Prince rose. That is if he was elected as so in the Royal Committee Meeting.

He was proud enough that he’d permit small acts of closeness– letting you remove your gloves when in his presence, even sharing his chamber. So, you would never risk waking him up while trying to sneak into the basement.

You recalled the aftermath of the disastrous ball vividly:

—

“I never knew he was so pathetic,” Rin sneered that night, running a hand through his dark hair before resting it at your throat and squeezing lightly. “Falling in love with you? A commoner? He must be out of his mind.”

He chuckled as he released you, pulling you into his chest.

“The whole Empire is so stupid. They think he fell in love with someone else. But it’s better this way.”

—

Yet despite Rin’s actions, your thoughts remained with Sae. You’d spent the weeks caring for Celestia, his white mare, as well as tending to Rin’s black stallion which he had never bothered to give a name to. You learned from the stable workers that Celestia was the mother of the charcoal horse.

Tonight, however, a once in a red moon opportunity presented itself. Your fiancé was away on royal business in Yelund, negotiating financial matters with their government in place of the Crown Prince. You took this chance, knowing it was the only one, and decided to sneak out.

You left your chamber, clutching a cage with a rat you’d found in the servants residence. You made your way through the darkened corridors until you reached the entrance of the basement. You hid yourself behind a large stone pillar and took a deep breath, tossing a small block of cheese across the room as a distraction.

The guards were alarmed by the subtle noise and quickly whipped their heads and ran towards the sound. You bit your lip in concentration— everything was going according to your plan. You quickly released the rat from its cage, watching it scurry across the concrete, and silently slipped into the Royal basement. You sighed in relief as you heard a guard's voice.

“Oh, it’s just a rat. Guards, get back into position.”

—

You slid off your heels so that your bare feet barely made a sound as they grazed the stone steps of the staircase. The basement wasn’t very illuminated if not for the dim candles that hung on the wall, and the stench was not horrible as you thought it would be. Instead, it smelled like preserved jasmine.

You were at the last step when you put your hand on the concrete wall, trying to catch your breath.

At the bottom, in the center of the relatively smaller room, stood a rectangular crystal glass box. Inside it, Sae lay perfectly still. The sight of him made your gaze soften and your heart clench as if it was put in a meat slicer. His skin was pale, but it was bolded, in contrast, by the inky blue vines tracing thorn and rose patterns across his body.

His cheeks and ears were faintly flushed by a baby pink dust, and his lips looked so soft, so gentle, so inviting. Stray strands of his red hair lay on the cushion beneath him, his long lashes resting against his cheekbones.

You were aching as you approached the enclosure. Your fingers trembled as you pressed them to the glass, your breath slightly fogging the surface. Tears blurred your vision as they began to roll down your cheeks, and you leaned down to gently caress his cheek with your bare hand, feeling the coolness of his skin.

You sniffled and your palms went to rub your glossy eyes, before you straightened up and curled your fingers on the glass in a tight grip. He looked beautiful, you thought, with roses that matched his hair colour surrounding him all over.

“Your Imperial Highn— no, Sae—” you whispered, “I… I love you, too.”

You cupped his face with quivering hands, your thumbs rubbing sweet circles on his skin as you contorted your body awkwardly to reach him. The glass was positioned high, at your waist’s level, so you had to twist your body and bend to touch him intimately.

Sae remained unmoving, yet you had hoped that somewhere deep within his slumber, he could sense your touch, or the sincerity of your unsteady voice confessing your reciprocated love.

As you leaned in to kiss him, that same sharp voice that you always hear yet again cut through your ears, and you instinctively covered them with your hands for protection.

“But From the Dust of Forgotten Lands,”

Your heart thumped faster in your chest as you tried to shake it off.

“Shall Rise a Heart with Common Hands,”

Beads of cold sweat trickled down your temple— you could never get used to the voice, no matter how many times you’d heard it.

“With Lips of Rose and Spirit Warm,”

Your hands fisted at the cotton under Sae, inhaling deeply before bending down until your face was inches away from his.

“To Bring the Order, End the Storm.”

Your lips hesitantly hovered over his mouth before you fluttered your eyes shut and pressed them against his in a kiss. Your lips together were so soft, yet they weren’t moving against each other like a mutual kiss would. They locked seamlessly in a way that felt strangely natural, as if the pair were made for each other.

Your lips lingered against his for a few seconds, and you wanted to relish the moment more, but you felt a subtle shift in Sae’s body. A faint flinch, almost imperceptible, ran through him, and the blue roses on his skin suddenly began to glow.

You pulled back before you could fully comprehend what was even happening, your lips just brushing his as you turned and sprinted towards the stairs. Fortunately, the guards on duty were in the midst of a shift exchange, so you assumed you had gone off flawlessly.

But not entirely.

A certain awakened man had caught a glimpse of your hair as it bounced during your escape.

The first light of morning stabbed your eyes, and they fluttered open abruptly as you realized Rin’s hands were on your shoulders, shaking you harshly. His face was itched in a deep scowl, his breath hot against your skin.

“What the fuck is all this about? This is what I come back to, you fucking whore?” He fumed venomously.

You blinked in confusion– your head was still fogged with sleep, after all.

“W-What..?”

—

The usual tranquility of the whole palace was broken by hurried, squeaky footsteps and frantic voices. News of the Crown Prince’s revival had spread like wildfire through the Royal Quarters: the sleeping prince had defeated the curse and had awakened after only a few mere weeks.

The servants and maids rushed through the hallways, scrambling to prepare for what would be an unexpected audience. Gossips and rumours flowed through every corridor of the palace faster than the head maid brewing herbal tea in preparation for noble guests.

And in the Royal Gardens outside, hundreds to near thousands of noblemen and noblewomen who were alerted of the Sae’s revival gathered, dressed in their finest dresses and suits.

Oh, you were so fucked.

—

“M-My lady, this isn’t good!” Eleanor cried as she ran into your room, “Hundreds of guests have arrived in the Throne room, and both princes are there too! His Imperial Majesty is now urgently awaiting your presence!”

Your hands instinctively wrapped around your abdomen, and you suddenly felt nauseous. Your body shook slightly, your teary eyes fixing themselves on the ground. You loved Sae, you really did, but doubt was gnawing at your organs. Kissing him felt right in that moment, yet you were starting to regret ever doing it.

What if he didn’t want your help? What if your peasant lips had tainted him? What if he didn’t want you?

“I… I don’t want to go,” you hiccuped, walking around your room in circles. “I’m so stupid, I should have never—”

“No, my lady,” She interrupted gently. “You must.”

You gulped and nodded hesitantly. Rin’s anger lingered in your mind like salt and pepper— his eyes were boiling over with rage, his face tinted a deep crimson red. You had never seen him like that, and now, as you stepped into the crowd gathered in the grand hall, all heads turned to look at you in a way that made you even more uncomfortable.

But the Emperor, however, did not seem angry. Weird enough, he looked elated for reasons you couldn’t yet pinpoint.

As Eleanor had said, Rin and Sae were both present, standing opposite each other like the rivals they were. Rin was struggling to contain the way he was absolutely fuming, while Sae was blatantly staring at you with no intention of hiding it. Unlike the way you usually reacted to the Crown Prince’s gaze, you felt rather nervous, flexing and unflexing your fingers.

You pinched the fabric of your simple gown and bowed low, and the thin patterns of the marble floor never seemed so interesting.

“Greetings, Your Imperial Majesty,” you addressed.

The Emperor nodded in acknowledgment, before turning his attention to Sae expectantly. “My son.”

“Yes, father.”

Before your wracked mind could process what was happening, Sae suddenly began striding toward you. Rin was a considerable distance away from you but he also furrowed his brows in confusion. A million thoughts started to run through his mind and he felt the unease creeping up his spine. Had they planned something behind his back?

Sae came to a stop in front of you, and your breath caught in your throat as you felt his arms, so muscular despite being under layers of hand-crafted clothing, loop around your waist and pull you close. Your face pressed against his chest, and your hands awkwardly hung near your sides despite being desperate to place themselves in places they’d beg to touch.

Loud gasps and surprised awes of the hundreds of uninvited, stunned guests echoed throughout the large room.

“Hey, what the heck–?” Rin suddenly snapped, biting down on his lip so hard that blood seeped out, the iron leaving a metallic taste on his tongue.

He didn’t like you, not really, but he had finally claimed something– someone that his older brother desired, and now it felt as though Sae was taking you from him.

It irritated him to no end, the way Sae’s hand gently patted your hair and the way you sheepishly smiled into his suit like an idiot– who the heck did you think you were? How could you? How fucking dare you?

And more importantly, why was the Emperor fine with this? Why was he chuckling so carelessly akin to the circus’ fool? What was going on?

But your mind was already in Saturn. You were lost in the Crown Prince’s musky scent and the oh-so-delicate taps of his fingers on your head, and when you heard that voice again, you closed your eyes knowingly and smiled for the first time in what felt like forever.

“A Crown of Old Shall Find its Grace,”

“In the Embrace of a Simple Face.”

“Y/N.” Sae’s voice broke through your thoughts and the voices of gossip in the crowd died down instantly. He tilted your chin up gently, thumbs caressing your face sweetly before his hands found their place on your cheeks.

Your eyes darted left and right nervously, avoiding his gaze. He'd never called you by your first name before. You shook those thoughts away and met his gaze. “Yes…?”

“You know,” He started, “To break the curse, the feeling of love must be mutual…”

Your cradled head nodded in his hands in embarrassment, and you felt heat creep up from your neck to your ears. “I’m aware,”

“So?”

Your eyes widened and immediately snapped down to the floor, watching your simple heels shuffling softly. You couldn’t help the soft giggle that escaped past your lips, and you only hoped that no one had heard that. You looked up at him affectionately.

“I love you…” Your voice dripped like melted caramel on his tongue, so sweet.

He smiled– a real, genuine smile that no one besides you could see– and leaned down, whispering an “I love you too,” before sealing his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle, and you let out a soft sigh as your fingers curled onto the rich fabric, gripping onto his attire tightly. His lips were warm as they moved against yours, unlike the cold, unmoving lips that you had claimed a while back.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes fluttered open, dazed with bleary eyes, little hearts seemingly etched into your pupils.

The crowd erupted into cheers and gasps, and maybe a few rolls of the eyes and glares from jealous noblewomen or daughters of Lords who had hoped to have Sae all to themselves, though you barely registered anything.

Why would anything matter, when you were here, openly in his arms?

“His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince is in love with his soon-to-be sister-in-law? This is hot news!”

“The Second Prince didn’t love her anyway.”

“He didn’t? But was it really a marriage of convenience, then?”

“No way, he must have been in love. What’s there to gain from a commoner?”

“But what could a village girl like her possibly offer the Crown Prince?”

The Emperor suddenly rose from his golden throne and stepped down the carpeted stairs, standing in the center. He cleared his throat and raised his scepter high in the air.

“I, the Emperor of the Royal Empire of Aquaria, officially dissolve the engagement between Y/N and the Second Prince, and announce the engagement between her and the Crown Prince!”

Rin’s eyes twitched. His fists clenched tighter by his sides, knuckles white and nails digging deep into his palms. He felt humiliated in front of so many people, but it is said that what goes around comes around.

“Huh? But Father, she's—” Rin began, but the Emperor turned his head and shot him a threatening glare.

“Emperor’s order.” With a voice that sharp, there was no possible room for argument.

You also stood frozen, mouth hanging open in disbelief as you blinked at the Emperor in the distance. But Sae’s fingers tipped your chin back up and his lips latched onto yours in a bold, open-mouthed kiss.

“Look at me,” he murmured as he pulled back slightly to look at you, his breath warm against your skin.

Your breath hitched, your gaze locking onto his. “Your Highness… I can’t believe this is happening,” You whisper-yelled in excitement, your hands waving around uncertainly.

He gently poked your cheeks. “You’ll take my last name since you don’t have one.”

You pinched yourself to check if this was all just a dream. If it was, you didn’t want to wake up. But it was all too real. The Crown Prince was now your fiancé. You were going to be the Crown Princess, and eventually, the Empress. And you were going to take his last name because commoners do not have the privilege of family names.

And despite everything, you strangely felt no deep remorse. You had slightly opened up to and grown fond of Rin in the past few weeks– he had those moments, but with you in his brother’s arms right now, you felt something different. You felt bad, but at the same time you didn’t. It wasn’t guilt. It was more complicated, but in the end, you didn’t dwell on it. You didn’t need to.

Rin stood in his spot motionless like a fallen angel’s statue, face hidden by a brush of his dark bangs. His eyes were fixed on the floor and his hands were clutching onto his pants like if he removed them hell would break loose.

His plan had backfired on him. Initially, he had chosen you, a commoner, as his fiancée to gain favour with the people, to appeal to the majority of Aquaria’s population, who were commoners themselves. It seemed like a strategic move at the time. His father, the Emperor, was known for his peculiar love for equality and would occasionally volunteer in villages, much to his dismay. Rin had believed marrying you would show his alignment with his father’s baffling… values, and would increase his chances of becoming the next ruler.

But no. His darn prodigy of a brother had bested him once again. Sae was better at everything: swordplay, horse riding, diplomacy, even winning nobles’ hearts. And now, his brother had not only fallen in love with his fiancée, a dumb commoner from the slums that he had chosen to boost his image, but also managed to make her fall heads over heels for him as well.

If that hadn’t infuriated him enough, he despised how his father wore that sickeningly proud smile on his face as he clapped his hands together, and how the couples were cheering and twirling like morons on the floor. While he stood stiff and awkward in the corner, insides seething in mixed emotions, hearing your stupid giggles and his brother’s irritatingly sweet reassurances of a better life with him. Sae had taken everything away from him, and it felt like salt being rubbed into an open wound.

But Rin hated his older brother, and he hated you too.

So on the night of your wedding, the chambermaid in your room let out a blood-curdling shriek, her face as pale as the moonlight that shone through the window.

Cruel streaks of mulberry and plum bruises painted the delicate canvas of your neck. The once-pure white of your nightgown now blemished with spreading stains of deep cherryrose dye called blood, seeping through the fabric and into the silken sheets beneath.

A severed porcelain horse’s head lay propped beside the body with vacant eyes, and scattered across the carpet were shattered remnants of a pearl necklace.

“But Do not be Fooled, One Shall Not Bloom,”

A dagger, its handle carved from true blue sapphire, was loosely wrapped between cold, limp fingers of a lifeless corpse sprawled across a river of red.

“For This, Will Lead to One’s Gentle Doom.”

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flowerandblood · 5 months ago

Text

The Price of Pride (3/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: fingering & oral sex, a kind of triangle, smut, the angst, description of the effects of murder, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, violence ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

"I am unable to control her. I can see in her gaze that she despises me. She doesn't understand that the cause is bigger than her or me." He whispered, looking blankly at the cream-coloured curtain behind which people were moving, their moans and sighs loud, pathetic, foreign.

Madam hummed with understanding, combing his hair with her fingers, her thighs where his head lay warm and soft.

"She is certainly frightened and lonely. A woman, unlike a man, has few options for resistance. Like any human being, she longs for freedom, my Prince." She said calmly, as if speaking to a small child, trailing her fingertips down his bare back.

He swallowed hard, feeling that the poppy milk he had drunk just a moment ago had begun to take effect, relaxing him, the pain in his eye socket finally subsiding, allowing him to breathe.

"We all want to be free. I understand it, but I cannot be weak. I protect my family." He whispered and closed his eyes – he felt the frustration of hearing Madam open her mouth, wanting to say more.

"Enough." He commanded coolly and she fell silent, tense, her trembling hand still trailing over his naked body.

He felt tears full of shame under his eyelids at the thought that he had confided in a whore.

As usual, as he walked back from her to the Red Keep, looking under his feet, he felt embarrassment and discouragement, emptiness and fatigue.

Daemon's daughter had a charisma that apparently made Vhagar listen to her, so they practised on her the way she gave commands.

Looking at her from the side, he had the impression that she stood beside him with only her body – her dark eyes remained blank, her face, her words, her gaze never directed towards him.

While some people dreamed of touching or riding a dragon, of being in the very company of these mystical beasts, she seemed indifferent to it – even though Vhagar listened to her like an obedient dog, she never tried to come closer, to touch her, to establish a relationship with her, as if the fact that she had to do this was beneath her dignity.

He hated her for despising what was most precious to him.

He hated her, but he needed her.

He stepped into his chamber through one of the hidden passages of the fortress and pulled off his cloak, tossing it carelessly onto his bed. He furrowed his brow as he saw that the books that had lain on the table earlier were scattered on the ground.

Someone was in his chamber, he thought with fury.

He froze as he heard screaming and crying, growing louder and louder, the guards one by one began to run down the corridor towards the chamber of his sister and her children.

He moved there, feeling anxiety, his heart in his throat as he entered the room and saw his mother kneeling over the bed of his nephew, his headless body looking like a doll.

He fell to his knees not knowing how else he was supposed to react to what he was seeing, feeling like he couldn't catch his breath, the screams and wails of his mother pressing her face against the boy's body so loud he felt like his skull was going to burst.

He was with a whore when they did it.

With a whore.

"What happened? What's the commotion?" He heard his brother's voice as he rushed into the chamber half drunk, staggering, stopping between him and his mother.

He watched as the expression on his face changed from shock and disbelief to despair, as a drawn-out, high-pitched, inhuman whine broke from his throat, followed by a sob, honest and full of suffering.

"– Jaehaerys –" He cried, whooping with tears, trying to touch him, but their mother pushed him away, shaking her head.

"– Aegon, please, leave, don't look at it –"

"– Jaehaerys – oh, gods, my boy, my sweet, sweet, little boy –" He babbled, dropping to his knees next to him, snuggling into their mother's womb, his hands clenched on her gown, a howl coming from his mouth as if someone had slit his insides with a knife.

He could feel his knee twitching in nervous reflex under the table, the wave of thoughts running over his mind making him feel dulled, hearing as if through a fog what was happening in the Small Council room.

His nephew was dead.

They had murdered Jaehaerys because they had not found him in his chamber.

He had been with a whore instead of defending his family.

He was next in line for the throne.

His nephew was dead.

A small, sweet, polite boy.

His children could sit on the Iron Throne.

"– bring me that whore – it's her fault – she certainly helped her father –" Aegon exclaimed, hitting the table top with his fist, his face all red and swollen from tears.

"– the guards went to her quarters, Your Grace – but I don't think she –" Criston Cole didn't finish as the door to the chamber opened and she was led inside like a prisoner.

It was apparent that she had been snatched from a deep sleep, her hair in a slight disarray, a thin brown robe thrown over her nightgown.

Aegon stood up, moving at her like a wild animal, Criston Cole and their mother had to restrain him, grabbing his arms to prevent him from killing her with his own hands.

"– WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, YOU FUCKING WHORE – WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY SON? –" He shouted, and she shook her head, shocked, looking at him with wide eyes, confusion in her expression.

She had no idea what had happened, he thought.

He knew she had nothing to do with it.

His spies were watching her day and night.

"– I don't understand –" She muttered.

"– the royal heir, my Lady – our king's son was bestially murdered in front of his poor mother – the boy's head was cut off – we suspect this is your father's revenge for the death of Lucerys Velaryon –" Tyland Lannister said, glancing at her uncertainly.

It was the first time he had seen her in such a state – her eyebrows arched in pain, as if this news had truly broken her, her dark eyes large and filled with sadness, her mouth parted wide in an expression of helplessness.

"– I have nothing to do with this – gods, I swear –" She mumbled, shaking her head, his brother screaming in rage.

"– LIAR! –"

"– she's telling the truth –" He said forcing himself to be calm, running his fingers across the table top.

His brother froze, looking at him suddenly, his gaze such as if he had realised something. He pulled himself out of the arms of Criston Cole and their mother, walking slowly towards him, his heart in his throat with terror.

"– and you, brother? – where were you, our protector, when they murdered my little son? – hm? –" He asked in a trembling voice, his eyes glazed over with tears.

He pressed his lips together, trying not to burst into sobs, to remain calm, unable to bear the shame that filled his heart.

"– with that fucking old whore whose tits you like to cuddle up to? – with your second mummy when they cut my boy's head off? –" He shouted in his face, and he felt a single, lonely tear run down his cheek.

"– and you, Cole? –" His brother continued, turning abruptly the other way, leaving him with his humiliating words, heavy tears full of guilt one after another running down his cheeks. "– where the fuck have you been? –"

"– in my bed, my King –"

"– IN YOUR BED? – IN YOUR BED INSTEAD OF WATCHING OVER MY WIFE AND CHILDREN! –" He wailed, barely staying on his feet, finally burying his face in his hands, their mother embraced him to calm him down.

"– get out –" He cried out finally. "– GET OUT – GET OUT – GET OUT –"

He shouted, so they all stood up – as he walked out, out of the corner of his eye he noticed that she was looking at him, her dark, warm gaze full of compassion he so despised.

The next day the funeral took place, his mother and sister, led by the dead body of his nephew, moved in procession through the streets of King's Landing, showing their subjects the cruelty of the heiress to the throne.

He watched them from behind the walls, feeling an emptiness, wondering if, had he not gone out that night, he would have saved him, or if he himself would have died then.

He felt both relief that it had not been him and regret that it was his nephew who had paid the price.

"Your Highness. She is already in your chamber, as you ordered." Said one of the guards, and he merely nodded and walked back into the fortress.

When he walked into his quarters indeed, his cousin was inside and she jumped up, hearing his rapid footsteps. He passed her without a word and settled over the map, spreading his hand over it.

"There are several places where wild dragons have been seen. One of those places is the Vale." He said, placing one of the gold coins in that spot.

"I've heard of it." She whispered, her voice frustratingly soft. "The farmers complained that it devours their flocks, sheep and pigs."

He nodded his head without looking at her, taking his cup in his hand, drinking wine from the morning, heedless of how early it was.

"This is our first target. The other ones are too close to Rhaenyra. We can't risk them discovering our plan. We will fly there on Vhagar." He said, sitting down in the chair, pressing the cup to his lips, the slightly tart and sweet taste of the wine melting on his tongue.

He looked at her, hearing her silence.

The light of the sun illuminated her graceful, girlish figure, her full lips shone as brightly as her eyes, her expression unexpectedly gentle.

He was sure she would say something that would enrage him, offer him condolences, or worse, begin to pity and console him, trying to step into the role of his mother.

That she would try use what she had heard about him to manipulate him.

"More wine?" She asked.

He sighed, feeling some kind of relief, and nodded, extending his hand with the goblet to her.

She walked slowly to the table, took the silver jug from it and leaned over him, filling his cup fully; looking at her in this position, smelling her pleasant scent, he could see the soft outline of her plump breasts under her gown.

His soft length swelled and throbbed in his breeches against his will as he thought about his tongue rolling around her hard, puffy nipples.

Because of this, because of the moment of relief, because of the woman's touch, he lost his guard and led to tragedy.

"We leave tomorrow at first light."

Silence.

"I want to ask you something, cousin. And I know you won't like it." She said in a trembling voice, standing over him with the jug in her hands.

He froze in mid-motion, raising the wine cup to his lips, staring dully ahead.

"You like to take risks, don't you?" He snorted, finally taking a deep, draughty sip, feeling the alcohol slowly begin to dull his senses.

"No, but you give me no choice. I will fly with you and the will of the gods will happen, as you desire. However, the chance of me dying in flames or being devoured is just as great as the chance of me succeeding." She said uncertainly and he sighed heavily, setting his cup down on the table with a loud clink of steel.

"What do you want?"

She was silent for a long moment, standing over him, he heard her swallow hard.

"Servant. I want to choose one and take him to my bed. I don't want to die without having any idea of this sensations." She muttered with sincere, childish shame, infuriating him.

I don't want to die without having any idea of this sensations.

"Aren't you ashamed to ask something like that out loud? What self-respecting Lord will want you after this?" He asked, unable to look her in the face, for some reason feeling aroused, his erection pulsed as he imagined her beneath the young man, moaning in pleasure.

"I don't care what the lords will think of me. If I become a dragon rider, my maidenhood will be the least of their worries. I have no desire to become either a wife or a mother. I could try to hide it from you, but I stand here before you and ask your permission like a dog." She said in a way from which he felt a squeeze in his throat, a disturbing idea filling his head.

He thought it was certainly the fault of the amount of wine he had drunk.

The fact that he needed to vent after what had happened, the humiliation he had experienced.

"Knowing what you ask, my soul will have no peace unless I am assured that no man has taken you by force." He replied at last, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, something in his gaze evidently told her what he was thinking of, for her words left her lips without hesitation.

"I'll let you watch if it will soothe your conscience." She said, and he grinned in a way from which she swallowed hard.

"It will."

There was something absurd and unreal about how, on the day of his nephew's funeral, when everyone was in mourning, he had walked by her side in the Red Keep, letting her pick the ripest, sweetest apple.

Her cool, almost disgust-filled approach to his inheritance made him treat his original idea of marrying her with reserve, and this way he could have something on her that he could use against her in the future.

If the need arose.

She had found out something about him against his will, and now he was going to use his advantage.

She paused, looking between the cloisters at one of the young men talking to a member of the Kingsguard, with golden, beautiful curls and bright eyes, his pearly laughter spreading around them.

She blinked, glancing over her shoulder at him, as if asking his opinion, and he wondered if this was how the gossiping ladies of the court felt.

"This is Tyland Lannister's servant. His distant relative. A bastard." He explained, looking at her indifferently. He saw that she pressed her lips together, as if she was thinking hard about something.

"Can he be trusted?" She asked, and he chuckled under his breath and shook his head, sighing in disbelief.

"Will your secret be safe with him? No."

Did she really believe that the entire Red Keep wouldn't find out about what she had done?

That the ladies of the court and the lords would not call her a shameless whore?

He blinked and led her away with a glance, seeing that she had simply moved ahead. He stood and watched in disbelief as she walked up to the two men and began to speak to them.

They both laughed, glancing at him as if she had said something amusing about him and he pressed his lips into a thin line at the thought.

Cunt.

After a while, the knight left them, and she was left alone with the boy who had piqued her attention. He leaned over her as if he was interested in what she was saying, his eyes big, his mouth twitching in a smile full of disbelief.

Had she just told him what she wanted to do?

Just like that, without any forethought or embarrassment.

The man bowed to her and escorted her away with a curious look as she returned to him, throwing him a calm look full of self-satisfaction.

"He agreed. He said I am beautiful." She said.

"You're a fool." He replied coldly.

She blinked and smiled warmly in a way from which he felt discomfort.

"Come."

He didn't understand what he was doing there – didn't understand why he was looking at them from afar like a shadow, why he was watching as his hands wandered over her cheeks and neck, as his lips placed soft, butterfly kisses on her lips.

"Do it slowly," she said, and he obeyed, not caring too much about his presence, eager to please her and to experience fulfilment himself.

He saw her flinch as his hand travelled to her breasts under the thin material of her gown, her fingers tightening on his wrist.

"– no –" He heard her whisper, her eyes closed, her head thrown back as if she was trying to relax. "– not yet –"

He was ashamed that he had been hard; he was ashamed that he had had to sit in a chair with his legs crossed so it wouldn't be visible. He was ashamed that he took some sick satisfaction from what he was looking at, knowing that he would be able to use it against her.

He swallowed hard as her eyes opened suddenly, her gaze finding his face and remaining fixed on him as the boy's lips sank into her neck again and again.

She sighed as he pressed her against the bed with his body, growing more and more aroused and impatient, her fingers clenched on his tunic in some helpless gesture, her doe eyes shining from tears of discomfort.

"– slow down –" He commanded, and the man raised his head and looked at him, breathing heavily, shocked.

"– Your Highness? –"

"– slow down, I said –" He repeated, looking at her, her full lips parted slightly, in her gaze the pain and heat from which he felt his cock swell all over his breeches, the wine humming in his head, filling his body with a pleasant warmth.

He felt the satisfaction of seeing that when the boy returned to his caresses, treating her more gently, running his hands down her waist, her gaze did not leave him, fixed on him.

He was sure for some reason that she would ask him to join them.

That she didn't really want this pathetic, simple boy who barely kept his cock in his trousers at all.

"– sink your fingers between her thighs – prepare her properly –" He instructed him and saw that her eyes grew big as she swallowed hard, looking up at her lover who, in one sure movement, lifted the skirt of her gown, slipping his hand under it.

She moaned as he touched her there and closed her eyes for a brief moment, but after a while her brow arched in some kind of uncomfortable expression, her hips swung back as if she were running away from him.

He was doing it too fast, without affection, without finesse, rushing to his own fulfilment and he was not surprised, but that was not the purpose of this whole farce.

Indeed, she could have burned in the dragon's fire, and the fact that she was just about to experience what a man's peak was was hardly what she had imagined.

He wondered if he should intervene, recognising that she wanted it herself.

And then he saw his hand slide down to his breeches and he simply rose from his seat.

"– step back, boy –" He snarled, approaching them lazily.

The boy rose and moved away, shocked as was his cousin, leaning on her elbows, her dark eyes big and shining, her cheeks and lips parted in a drawn-out breath red with emotion.

She sighed as he grabbed her around the waist and moved her so that he sat behind her back, placing his legs on either side of her body, pulling her close so she could feel on her ass what she had done to him.

How fucking hard he was because of her and her idea.

His fingers ran over her neck and tilted her head so that she rested her back against his shoulder, his nose pressed against her hot, fragrant, sweaty cheek as his free hand forced her to bend her legs at the knees, lowering her skirts and smallclothes.

"– bend over and lick her –" He commanded, running his full lips over her bare skin, stroking the silky structure of the inside of her thigh with his palm, as if he wanted to reassure her and prepare her for what was about to happen.

"– what? –" She muttered quietly, tense, in some involuntary, helpless reflex reaching her hand back, clasping it softly in his hair.

The man swallowed hard, sensing already, probably subconsciously, that he would not regain control of the situation and could not hope for fulfilment.

Good, he thought.

There was no reason why he should fill her with his worthless seed or take her maidenhood.

"– easy –" He whispered in her ear, running his thumb over her jawline, her thigh quivering in his embrace. "– let me take care of this –"

He said and nodded, ordering the boy to obey his command. The man swallowed and leaned in, her hips moving backwards in a subconscious reflex, wanting to protect herself, but they met his body, pressing against his rock-hard length.

Her lips parted in shock as she moaned suddenly, apparently feeling the man's tongue deep inside her, while his hand slid from her thigh to her sticky, swollen folds, seeking her puffy bud.

"– ah – oh, gods, t-too much, too much –" She mewled, clenching her fingers tighter in his white hair, his hands from her jaw slipping under the fabric of her gown, sinking slowly into the soft, plump skin of her breasts.

"– you wanted it yourself – go on –" He said dryly, his last words directed at the man thrusting between her throbbing slit with his tongue.

She threw her head back with a girlish, sweet moan as the man sped up, the tips of their noses touching as his forehead pressed against hers.

"– if only you were my little sister – I'd caress you like this every night – would you like it? –" He gasped encouragingly, knowing exactly what he wanted to do to her, feeling her body squirm in his embrace in pure ecstasy.

He could take Daemon's place by her side.

To be her protector, the man in whom she would seek refuge.

She gasped as his thumb began to tease her hard nipple in an offhanded manner, the fingers of his other hand digging lazily into her leaking cunt in circular motions, securing her path to fulfilment to the accompaniment of the loud clicks of the boy's saliva between her thighs.

"– what would your father say at the sight of this – hm? – do you think he would be proud? –" He whispered, feeling that his fingers were all sticky from her wetness. She shook her head quickly, moaning at the same time, slowly losing touch with reality.

He didn't even notice when he started panting himself, rolling his hips back and forth, rubbing his manhood between her buttocks, feeling the tightness in his stones testifying that he himself was fully aroused.

"– you like it, don't you? – I can feel you're close – come on his face –" He breathed out, and she moaned and shook her head, raising her big, tear-filled eyes at him, her face smooth and bright up close, her eyelashes long and black, as beautiful as her lips and eyebrows arched in indecision.

"– g-gods, stop –" She mumbled out, and after a moment he felt her body shake in convulsion, her lips parted wide as she cried out in pleasure, rocking her hips into the strokes of his fingers, his other hand kneading her soft breast like dough.

"– that's what I thought – just like that – easy now –" He hummed, letting his forehead last pressed against hers while she trembled all over, giving her a sense of reassurance. He watched with some kind of warmth as she panted heavily with her eyes closed, tears of shame, horror and fulfilment flowing down her red, sweaty cheeks.

"You may leave." He commanded, glancing sideways out of the corner of his eye at her pathetic lover. "If you tell anyone about this, I will cut your tongue out."

The man rose from between her thighs, all red with exertion, wiped his chin and lips and climbed off the bed, his long, hard erection clearly outlined in his trousers.

He smirked under his breath at the sight of it, concentrating on her accelerated breathing, on her hot, wet womanhood pulsing under his fingers, on her soft breast on which he simply held his hand, not moving, feeling her heart pounding hard in her chest.

He let her turn in his embrace, let her snuggle into his body, let her throw her arms around his neck, lingering with her like this, spread out comfortably on the pillow behind his back, feeling his hard manhood push against her stomach again and again.

He stroked her soft, long hair, thinking with tenderness that he now had her in his grasp.

______

Author's note: I know that in my requests I don't allow requests for triangles in my stories and I never write them because I just don't like them, but when I came up with this idea here my brain was like:………. And you have what you have. Let's just say that this is a tiny break of my rule for you, my dear readers.

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