#my lady jane watch party

[personinthepalace]

absolutely obsessed with the little noises that guildford makes while they're kissing

[tossawary]

I saw this play a while back called "Pride and Prejudice* (*sort of)", which was a comedic retelling of the events of P&P by five female servants. (Who all worked in the Bennet household, I believe? Cannot remember the exact setting at this point.)

It was very much in an "low-budget improv troupe" style (though it was not actually improv), so Mr. Bingley's exaggerated "love at first sight" meeting with Jane happened while he had his hand stuck in a Pringles can. A karaoke machine made multiple appearances. If you were looking for historical accuracy or a perfect examination of the social nuances, this was not at all the play to watch, but it was pretty amusing, and it was interesting to think about P&P from the perspective of servants who may have only heard about certain events through gossip. Or who might just be mocking certain figures because they don't like them very much. At one point at a party, a tipsy Lydia got her hands on one of the soldiers' guns and fired it at the ceiling while people screamed. It was VERY silly.

Because there were only five actresses, they were switching between roles as needed, putting jackets or colorful dresses over their plain white dresses. The female servant who played the dramatic Mrs. Bennet also played the stiff Mr. Darcy. Another of the female servants played both Bingley siblings (Charles and Caroline) and also Charlotte Lucas, I think? Another played Mary, Lydia, and Mr. Collins, and also Mrs. Gardiner, I believe. Another played Jane, Georgiana Darcy, Mr. Wickham, and Lady Catherine, and so on. The female servant who played Elizabeth played her most of the time. The quick changes and mannerism shifts were quite funny.

But my favorite part may have been that Mr. Bennet was played by a chair. It was a comfy chair with its back to the audience and a newspaper propped up so that someone might be sitting there reading it, and at one point one of the servants went over to the chair to light a pipe, so that smoke rose from behind the chair. Characters talked to the chair sometimes, but the chair never talked back.

So, at one point, Mrs. Bennet was yelling and moaning about how the family was ruined. I think that Lydia, whom the embarrassing and overbearing Mrs. Bennet had been actively encouraging to be silly earlier, had run off with Mr. Wickham here. And Mrs. Bennet cried out, "OH, MR. BENNET, DO SOMETHING!!!"

And everyone on stage looked towards the chair with its back turned, which was fairly obviously empty, and which of course couldn't do anything by itself, because it was a chair. Dead silence again.

And then Mrs. Bennet went back to wailing and crying, while her daughters (Jane, Lizzy) patted her awkwardly on the back. And then I think the another actress came in as a servant to announce someone's arrival or something, moving the comedic retelling along. And that's probably what I remember best out of the entire play: Mr. Bennet could be effectively played by an empty chair with its back turned. It was hilarious.

[gguk-n]

Lights, Camera, Stroll (Lance Stroll x Youtuber!Reader)

All the pictures are from Pinterest or Nessa Barrett.

bloggingmylife

Liked by lance_stroll and 234,768 others

bloggingmylife Decided to have a chill day at home!! New video up!!

user5 I love your vlogging style♥️♥️ user6 teach me your ways🥹🥹 user7 is it just me or did I hear a guy in the background?!🤔🤔 user8 why is Lance Stroll in the likes?? Since when did they follow each other??🤔😣

user2 that one user on twitter did say you were dating user3 so happy for you!! can't wait to see him in your videos

bloggingmylife

Liked by lance_stroll, astonmartinf1 and 1,869,953 others tagged lance_stroll

bloggingmylife Got invited to the Canadian GP!! Had so much fun!! Love you Lancey!!😘😘

user1 OMG!! Is she dating Lance Stroll???😭😭 user4 f1 wag🥹🫣😭 user5 so pretty in green💚💚 lance_stroll love you too baby♥️♥️Liked by Author astonmartinf1 Please come back Y/N😭😭 bloggingmylife astonmartinf1 I'll be back as much as you want admin😘😘

lance_stroll

Liked by bloggingmylife, astonmartinf1 and 2,768,980 others tagged bloggingmylife

lance_stroll Home🇨🇦

user6 Lover boy Lance was not on my 2024 bingo😳😳 user7 they are so cute😚😚 user8 he called her his home🥹🥹 astonmartinf1 good weekend👍 bloggingmylife I wish you didn't travel so much😤😤 lance_stroll bloggingmylife what's stopping you from following me around?🫢🫢 bloggingmylife lance_stroll actually you are right🙄🙄.

Y/N- Hi guys!! Y/N here. Today I am joined by my lovely boyfriend!! Lance- Hi Y/N's subscribers Y/N- We're playing Most Likely too today!! Shall we start?? Lance- Sure, babe Y/N- Who is most likely to plan a spontaneous trip? Lance- *points to himself* she stress's too much and needs days to plan stuff out. Y/N- hey!! I just like being in control of things *pouts* (Lance pecks her lips.) Y/N- Who is most likely to forget important dates like anniversaries or birthdays? Lance Lance- when did I do that?? Y/N- my birthday, this year. Lance- in my defence it was on a Monday after the race *raises hands up to surrender* Y/N- fine, I'll cut you some slack. Who is most likely to win a cooking competition? Lance- Y/N. She cooks the most delicious food. My trainer hates her. Y/N- I try to make healthy and tasty food. I call bs on your trainer. He just hates not being able to eat my cooking. *Lance laughs* Y/N- Who is most likely to start a new hobby or interest? Lance- Y/N!! We have so many of her hobbies lying around, half done. Y/N- Listen, they seem like good ideas at 3 in the morning and I order them on Amazon. Lance- I love your neurodivergent self!! Y/N- Who is most likely to handle a surprise party for the other? Lance- Me. Y/N- Who is most likely to stay up all night binge-watching a new series? Lance- Y/N, she spent the last night binge watching Lady Jane. Y/N- The show is great and I would like to tell the audience; he watched it too!! Who is most likely to initiate a major life change, like moving to a new city? Me, since I literally move for you. *pecks Lance on the lips* Lance- Thank you, I love having you home. Now you can start travelling with me too. Y/N- Who is most likely to take on a new fitness challenge or goal? Lance- me. She barely goes to the gym. Y/N- don't expose me like this!!! Who is most likely to surprise the other with a thoughtful gift? Lance- Y/N. I have so many gifts and for the randomest occasions. Y/N- You get me flowers all the time. I have to return the favour. Who is most likely to get lost while driving to a familiar place? Lance- She got lost in her home city *shakes his head* Y/N- I'm bad with navigation. Lance- That's why I drive you around, I'm scared I'll lose you. Y/N- Aww, Lancey!! I love you Lance- I love you too!! Y/N- That's it for today!! Hope you guys had fun. I had a lot of fun. *the video ends with both of them kissing*

[myladyjanecentral]

LETS SAVE MY LADY JANE

By now, you’ve all see the news that Amazon has canceled My Lady Jane. A fools move, naturally, but we are here to try and rectify their horrible judgement call.

There is a massive movement on the social media sites to get our leading lady, her horse husband, and their chaos family and friends trending and we wanted to make sure Tumblr was in on the gig!

The Schedule:

To go with that schedule here is a list of hashtags to get trending. For us over on Tumblr, the dumpster fire of social media, we’re most concerned about #myladyjane and #savemyladyjane.

Watch Party!

On Wednesday, fandom is going to do a Mexican Wave watch party on X and Instagram! Yes, we know it’s in the middle of the week, but who cares about corporate profits when we’re fighting for love!

Lots of info, lots of opportunities to get involved. Like with anything, nothing is a guarantee but we need to pull a Lady, excuse us, Queen Jane and unite the whole kingdom fandom and try and get our beloved show the one more season it needs to tell its story.

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

Featuring coffee shop, neighbours and historical AUs because everyone deserves to find their next comfort read.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries.

Provisionally Yours by snapslikethis

Lily Evans discovers she’s been married off to James Potter without her knowledge. She and the spoiled count (in whom she appears to have finally met her match) have three days, for better or worse, to decide whether to accept the contract. With her sister adamant to make her life miserable, and a husband who seems equally determined to repel her, what else can possibly go wrong?

I think this fic captures their inquisitive nature perfectly. Through their banter, you can see just how compassionate and selfless James is and how he can be very sincere despite his antics. Lily is described in canon as vivacious and this fic illustrates how her reserved nature dissolves when in good company.

Till Death Do Us Part (Let It Be Quick) by @wearingaberetinparis

“Till death do us part,” she concluded, all air sucked from her lungs. Her fate signed, sealed and delivered. As the priest spoke his final words, she found herself ensnared in her adversary's gaze, trapped by the weight of it, her mouth opening as she spoke under her breath - almost subconsciously: “Let it be quick.”

A Jily Arranged Marriage AU in which Lady Lily never imagined she would fall for the husband she was forced to wed. Inspired by My Lady Jane.

I'm so excited about this, you guys don't understand!! Mary's writing is always phenomenal but her historical AUs have a very special place in my heart

all the king's horses, all the king's men by @jilyss

As queen, Lily Evans faces the suffocating weight of isolation and loneliness that comes with the crown. The only constant in her life is James Potter, her loyal and ever-watchful royal guard.

Wizarding Betrothal by pasmosa

Lily’s parents arranged her marriage to a wizard when she was born, and sealed the deal with a binding magical contract! Nobody counted on Lily choosing not to cooperate! Someone’s heart will get broken. Will it be her own?

oops I did it again by Anonymous

Annoyance, a deep, visceral annoyance that only Potter seems capable of generating, stirs up within her. Part of her still wants to storm out and away from him, another part wants to smack that smirk off his face, and a third very secret part that should never have existed in the first place can’t stop thinking about that photo, about her mouth on his, about his long fingers rucking up the hem of her shirt.

If she leaves now, she reasons, he’ll have gotten the last say, and that’d be absolutely no fair.

So she stalks over, plants her hands on her hips, and looks up at him. “Alright, new deal,” she says. “One kiss — one real kiss — and then you get it out of your system.”

(Spoiler alert: Neither of them gets anything out of their system.)

It's got everything you'd want from a uni AU

Literary Sophistication by @andromedabooks

Bookstore AU where an English girl enjoys Great American novels and her date has correct opinions regarding film adaptations

Customer In Law by @annabtg

James Potter is young, handsome, the proud owner of a coffee shop, and tragically - according to his mother - single. In an attempt to stop her from trying to set him up with her friends' daughters, he decides to go along with his best friend's plan and recruit his regular customer Lily Evans to play the part of his girlfriend during his mother's birthday party. Of course, the fact that he’s got a huge crush on her is entirely irrelevant…

The amount of pinning in this...

Golden Lights by PotterandEvans (on ao3)

James Potter, competition-winning figure skater has a crush, a crush on the redhead that works at his favourite coffee shop. When he finds out that she also teaches children how to skate on the weekends, he finds himself on the rink to join her.

throwing chances (requires an ao3 account) by @theroomofreq

prompt: “I’ve spent the summer climbing through your bedroom window so no one sees, please won’t you give me a chance?”

Or the one where both of them are early birds but Lily needs coffee

A Cashmere Christmas Miracle by @oyprongs

"Lily doesn’t really have an excuse for why she does it. It’s completely unprofessional - not that that matters much at her workplace - and probably constitutes some form of light stalking. But the jumper’s been in the bin at work for weeks, and she’s tired of tossing it aside whenever she clears out the other clothes, and Mary’s on holiday so she doesn’t have anyone dropping in to say hi, and she has to stress this: Lily’s job is very, very boring."

or Lily finds a jumper at her work's lost and found and decides to text the number stitched to the label.

This fic read like a recount a friend would text me and I mean this in the best way

Can't you see (you belong with me) by Boggarts_butterbeer (on ao3)

"I love your eyes" she says it so softly, so earnestly and his heart absolutely melts. "It was you" she carries on, resting her forehead on his, "it was going to be you all along"

he's about to say something (and it isn't going to be complete mush) when the door bangs open and they turn to Effie holding a tray of biscuits, absolutely grinning from ear to ear shouting "Fleamont, Oi Fleamont get your arse up here it's happened! it's finally happened, Oh and bring the camera!" and behind him is Sirius, recording the whole thing doubled over in laughter, and lily flushed red, hiding her face in his chest as he groans

Or Jily muggle au inspired by the You Belong with Me music video because it is the best video of all time- Lily pines secretly whilst James pines not so secretly

Because at my core I'm a friends to lovers girl

Covet Thy Neighbour by @beedaily

There are lots of ways to introduce oneself to a new neighbour, but breaking into their flat, perhaps, is a road less travelled.

Reunion also by @ /beedaily

The last person Lily expects to see at her law conference is the first boy she'd ever kissed.

Shout Out To My Ex series also by @ /wearingaberetinparis

James and Lily work for Phoenix Radio, a radio station that finds its existence threatened by the successful Riddle Radio. When asked to brainstorm an idea for a new show, Lily comes up with a show in which two exes discuss the aftermath of their break-up. Obviously, so Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall decide, she and James are perfect to play the part. The only problem? They never actually dated. A fake exes AU that leads to so much more drama than you might expect.

A Jily Modern AU inspired by Rachel Lynn Solomon’s "The Ex Talk".

The ending was just perfect

I Spy, I Spy With My Little Eye also by @ /wearingaberetinparis

Potter. James Potter. It sounds like a joke. It most certainly isn’t.

A Jily MI6 Spies AU in which James Potter and Lily Evans attempt to take down Tom Riddle.

Too Young to Have This Kind of Epiphany by @tinyluminaryzombie

Lily's a badass legislative director at a climate non-profit. James is a sweet, funny, and gorgeous co-owner of Three Broomsticks, the cafe Lily's started visiting. They're kind of obsessed with each other (but also refuse to make a move).

her favourite regular by @arianatwycross

A little doe-mestic moment for our two love birds with a sprinkle of my favourite: coffee

The Phoenix: A Coffee Shop Story by hp_poppet_writer (on ao3)

Lily gets more than she bargained for at the new coffee place her roommate recommends.

Lily feels her mouth go dry. If this is the view, this tall, chiseled specimen with the perfect amount of scruff on his face, she would gladly drink a cup of the worst coffee in the world every day. Her caffeine-deprived, still-asleep, drooling brain manages to squeak out “coffee” as she continues to openly stare at him.

His smile turns into a smirk, hazel eyes lighting with a mischievous glint. He pushes his glasses up before responding.

my mind turns your life into folklore (i can’t dare to dream about you anymore) by petitecanard (on ao3)

Lily had not been the reigning belle for twenty miles around Cokeworth without learning to distinguish between a flirt and a man who was in earnest. She replied instantly: “I know very well that Lord Potter means nothing by his compliments! Indeed, I am in no danger of being taken-in like a goose. And I still think he is odious, and a toerag, and a bully, and – and everything of that sort!”

Or, when the impoverished Miss Lily Evans embarks to London to find a husband, she impetuously engages in a battle of wits with the eligible Lord James Potter.

Quintessential jily

moppet (requires an ao3 account) by @gryffindormischief

Sometimes it's the unexpected things you love the most (feat. singel dad James).

heuristic also by @ /gryffindormischief

Bad restaurants, texting, DDR, pet apartments, more texting, nachos, and bookstore dates, all normal in the early days of a relationship, right?

may i borrow some sugar by oneofthesirens

Lily sits up so fast she’s surprised she doesn’t get whiplash. She recognises him, vaguely, in that way that sometimes they pass in the street and awkwardly nod. He’s tall – really tall, and she definitely has not developed an obsession with that – and wears glasses that are either dorky in a cool way, or hipster in an uncool way. He’s kind of exactly her type which was the first thing Marlene had pointed out when she’d seen him in passing.

Her naked and, more importantly, oblivious neighbour spins around to grab something from behind him and Lily sees… well, everything. More than she wanted to and, at the same time, not enough at all.

So, she does what any reasonable, twenty-five-year-old girl would do; snatches her phone from the bedside table, pulls the duvet up above her head so her naked neighbour can’t see her looking, and texts her friends.

Or: Lily and James are semi-neighbours, somewhat acquaintances, and she might have hosted a pretend-party just to talk to him

The Return (requires an ao3 account) by cwannabe5 (on ao3)

When Lily returns to her old university town for a weekend reunion with her university friend group, she naively expects old feelings and relationship dynamics to stay where they belong: in the past. However, it becomes immediately clear to her that being drawn towards James isn't something she can run from forever, and in fact, if she can manage to admit it to herself, sometimes addressing the elephant in the room leads to a happy ending.

Also, (not so) reluctant bed-sharing.

Life and Lemons by @lovesickjily

Harry loves his parents dearly, but he would love it even more if they were together. He decides to play cupid in an effort to have a happy family.

[copperphysics106]

The Terror OST

So... unfortunately, I don't have permission to post my terror soundtrack video. It bummed me out because I've been working on this for a month now, but I probably should've checked that beforehand, right? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Ah well.

Regardless, I spent all that time finding where tracks play, with help from the Cold Boys Fandom Club website and some people on Tumblr (💗) so I might as well just post that here now so if anyone is still searching where each track plays, this is everything I could find and match up.

Last Morning Watch VI.: Plays during Terror and Erebus introductions.

Last Morning Watch V.: Crozier focuses on the sun dogs.

Last Draughts, Last Best Efforts IX.: Crozier examines maps in his quarters, before the theater flashback.

LM-118: Diving scene intercut with Young's autopsy. (Library Music)

Last Morning Watch IV.: Young is buried and Sir John gives his eulogy. This song also plays in Episode 10, when Hickey and Crozier discuss why he was kidnapped.

Last Draughts, Last Best Efforts XIII.: Sir John wakes up to the ships being icelocked.

Last Draughts, Last Best Efforts VIII.: Graham Gore's lead party climbs up the ice ridge. Irving meets with and trades with Koveyook.

Birth of Liquid Plejades: Gore's lead party write in the victory point note. (Zeit)

Liquid Fire: Silna's father is shot and Gore is killed. (Schattenspieler)

Goetia: Sir John's eulogy, delivered by Crozier.

Gambuh I: Lady Jane speaks to the Admiralty.

Untitled 090616: Hickey finds tobacco in his hammock. (Schattenspieler)

Last Morning Watch II.: Edward goes to retrieve Silna from Erebus.

Last Fixed Position XVI.: Blanky is chased by the Tuunbaq.

Last Fixed Position XVII.: Silna eats a seal.

Last Heat, Last Exertions XXI.: Blanky describes what happened at Fury Beach to Fitzjames.

Last Heat, Last Exertions XXIII.: Crozier speaks to the crew about walking out while Stanley preps his plan.

Planchette: Stanley lights himself on fire at Carnivale. Also plays when Hickey offers his tongue to Tuunbaq. (Exercises in Estrangement)

Tenebrous: Hickey stabs Irving. (Schattenspieler)

Last Heat, Last Exertions XX.: Irving's autopsy, Hodgson is questioned.

Last Heat, Last Exertions XXII.: Tuunbaq attacks Terror Camp.

Brohm Ridge: Hodgson recounts a perfect moment to Goodsir. (coast / range / arc//)

Last Morning Watch VII.: Blanky finds the Northwest Passage.

Last Draughts, Last Best Efforts X. (andantino): Plays multiple times in the show. Goodsir talks to Collins about Carnivale; Collins notices the Peruvian as Bridgens diagnoses Peglar; Bridgens lays down to die.

The Eroding (Fairytale Music 3): Goodsir's suicide. (Air Texture II)

Last Heat, Last Exertions XXIV.: Tuunbaq's death.

Polar Sirens: Crozier and Silna search the remainders of Crozier's men. (Erebus & Terror)

The Gates of Paradise - I & II: The ending, with Crozier sitting by the seal hole. (The Gates of Paradise)

Albums/Links:

The Last Sunset of the Year / Schattenspieler / Exercises in Estrangement / The Word as Power / Library Music / Air Texture II / Erebus & Terror / The Gates of Paradise / coast / range / arc// / Zeit

This list isn't everything, as there are definitively some songs missing; notably, off the top of my head: the main title theme, the song that plays during Sir John's death, and the song that plays after Collins has taken the Peruvian, etc.

A lot of songs repeat in the show, I listed scenes they appeared in or are easiest to remember.

I swear that I saw the latter song on YouTube at one point but it's seemingly been taken down and I can't remember what it's called anymore, unfortunately. There's also a lot of ambient tracks that I simply can't find and aren't present on the album, sadly; a lot of tracks were used in the show that aren't on the internet it seems, or if they are, buried REAL deep lol. So unless the list is released officially, I don't really have a way to get ahold of the tracks that play in some of these scenes:

Orren's death (Ep1)

The lead parties set off (Ep2)

Gore's party find the overturned boat (Ep2)

The men play soccer (Ep2)

Collins' soul consumed (Ep8)

Hickey sighting the Tuunbaq through spyglass (Ep10)

Of course, if you've recognized any tracks yourself, let me know and I'll add it to the list!

[mendokayalways]

watched my lady jane expecting it to be regency romance - did not expect him to be a horse actually that was wild

turns out Im wrong about the regency party too its tudor era lol

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Okay you got me. Tell me about PP 1980

Okay, so XD

Imagine you had a BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice that was 5 hours long, faithful to the book, and yet having a different perspective/understanding/interpretation of the characters and the story? That's P&P 1980 in a nutshell, and I think it is worth watching just for that. But here are some other concrete things it has going for it, specially in relation to other adaptations:

The casting is closer in age than 95, and on one specific important case, closer than 05 too: Lady Catherine de Bourgh is played by an actress in her mid 40s, and she nails the absolute Opinionated Facebook AuntTM thing that the character has going in the novel.

It's not the only case of closer accuracy to the book in characters: Mr Collins is a young, tall, big guy, whose main issue is being very small minded, petty, and obsequent, instead of recurring to "he's greasy or slimy" as other adaptations do.

If you agree/like the "Darcy has autism" headcanon, this is the adaptation that leans the most heavily into it (it does overdo it, in my opinion, but there's a very interesting contrast between the flat affect of his facial expression, and the richness of inflexion in his voice)

Elizabeth Garvie's Lizzy is just... extraordinary. This adaptation circumvents the Jane-as-prettier-than-Lizzy issue by casting as Lizzy an actress with big, dark, very expressive eyes, small features and a very lively, sharp countenance and manners, whereas Jane's actress is tall and graceful and has a general air of kindness and sweetness, but in a very youthful way.

Speaking of Jane, this adaptation focuses much more on the sisters as sisters, and gives special emphasis to Lizzy's love for Jane, which I appreciate a lot.

Also speaking of Jane, Jane and Bingley are the cutest in this. They are given time, and he's kind and sociable and sweet without being an idiot. This adaptation includes that great line of his about how he wouldn't mind Darcy so much if he wasn't so tall, and the following comment about how Darcy can be fastidious of a Sunday evening.

That way, this adaptation includes several fan favorite scenes/lines that don't usually make it to adaptation, such as Darcy asking Lizzy to dance a reel, Lizzy playing and singing at a party in Meryton, Caroline teasing Darcy about putting uncle and aunt Phillips on the Pemberley portrait gallery, and the "I cannot fix the hour or the spot..." line. EDIT: also, the coffee pot scene!! and the rivalry between Mrs Bennet and Lady Lucas!

I also think it balances well how awful, in different ways, both Mr and Mrs Bennet (EDIT: and she's not insufferably shrill!!!!) are as parents (unlike how 95 and 05 "pick sides"); it emphasizes how self centered her efforts are, and how lazy and callous he can be in his mockery and indolence.

The opening sequence of each episode is a roll of a hand-drawn summary of the events of the episode and that's such a lovely detail.

Mind you, the adaptation is not without its faults. The production values are not what we are accustomed to nowadays. Some acting and lines are stilted and/or awkward. It has the odd choice here and there that is involuntarily funny. But I don't think people need discouragement from seeing it. I don't even think most of the general Austen fandom is aware of its existence. For my part, it has become my favorite adaptation of P&P (that I have watched so far; I haven't gotten yet to either 1967 or the Italian one).

[forasecondtherewedwon]

After the Horse Has Bolted

Fandom: My Lady Jane Pairing: Jane x Guildford Rating: T Word Count: 1899

Summary: Though they escaped execution, Guildford continues to struggle with his transformations and, worse, with dreams of losing Jane. A frank conversation with Susannah might help more than he expects it to.

He loves her like this, watching her move about the camp at twilight. She isn't the only person here with medical knowledge, and she lacks the experience to deal with more severe battle wounds, and some of the Ethians are steadfastly distrustful, but there are enough willing to let Jane close, and enough minor wounds, and, generally, enough patients to go around. Her skills are badly needed.

As Jane tends to people, Guildford feels a bit useless. Though he did try to help, he quickly realized it was all too unfamiliar for him to be of much use. Besides, these people don't extend the same welcome to him as they do Jane. He doesn't have her bedside manner, he supposes. Fuck them for finding him slightly jumpy and suspicious after one of their own (technically, one of his own, but fuck) attempted to murder him with iron manacles. But he thinks this without heat. These people are their allies—almost their only allies—and he's trying to see what Jane sees.

Mostly, he just likes seeing Jane. Jane in the early morning, scavenging in the woods for medicinal plants. Jane winning over strangers by sitting at their side to cut the thread of their stitches with her teeth instead sitting on the throne to sign a document they may never feel the benefit of. Jane alive. Guildford hasn't told her yet that he sees her differently when he closes his eyes. He sees her pristine white dress across the square, the black strip that blinds her. In his dreams, he watches helplessly as she kneels and the axe swings down. That's when he wakes up screaming her name.

Yeah, maybe that's another reason these people feel a little uneasy around him.

Except Susannah. Susannah's been marvellous. They've sort of met before—him below the stairs with the beautiful woman he would next see walking up the aisle of a church, her rushing down those stairs to warn Archer about the guards, then the night of the attempted assassination outside the old Ethian camp—but Susannah makes more of their acquaintance than it really is. She does it so the others will trust him, because they clearly trust her. They listen to her. It isn't long before Guildford learns it was Susannah who mustered the rescue party that saved his and Jane's lives, though he suspects as much even before it's confirmed. He sees their bond. He's grateful for it.

How grateful though, is the thing, when Susannah plonks herself down on the log where Guildford's seated, and follows his eyes, smirking to catch him gazing at Jane.

"D'you ever let your wife ride you?"

He can't look at her as he responds, "Just the once, escaping execution."

"Ah, y'know that's not what I mean."

"No, I don't know that," Guildford says stubbornly.

Susannah hunches forward and catches his eye.

"How come you're blushin' then?"

"Piss off."

"No."

He looks at her, and she's grinning. While Jane was raised a lady and Susannah supported herself in service, Guildford's found them to be cut from a very similar cloth. They're both unflinchingly bold when they want to be. Cautious, at other times, but not timid. Not everyone can tell the difference. He's been learning Jane, and is beginning to know Susannah, and he can tell she's teasing him for a reason. It might be friendly, or a protective test of Jane's husband's mettle, or something else. Whatever it is, Guildford realizes he's probably better off not trying to shut her out. They're persistent, these two women.

"Want to know why I'm asking?" Susannah prompts.

"I'm guessing you'll tell me."

"Very good!" She shifts closer and lowers her voice. "It's 'cause I've heard you screamin' your feckin' head off the last three nights."

"And you thought Jane was responsible?"

"Yeah, I hoped she was ridin' you like there's no tomorrow. Two reasons for that. You want 'em?"

"Terrific," Guildford says flatly.

"One," Susannah says, holding up a finger to show the count, "because back when Jane and I lived under the same roof, I was beginning to have serious concerns that she was never gonna let herself enjoy herself. It was a virgin you took to your marriage bed, Guildford, no question."

"You are nosy, aren't you?" He scowls at her, but Susannah stares back, unfazed.

"It's the same for her with me. If your hair wasn't curled already, she'd have stories to tell you that'd do the job."

"Please just get to your second reason."

Susannah sighs.

"If it's not Jane, somethin's troublin' you, and it can't go unaddressed. We can't have that. You'll either attract trouble to our camp or somebody already livin' in it'll stab you themselves to keep you quiet. Probably your wife."

Guildford sags. He knows she's right—the last thing he wants to be is a liability. He doesn't want to get anyone else hurt or killed. Especially Jane. Jane, who was sentenced to death for marrying him. Jane, who stood in the fire with him, the bond between them even stronger than the rope that wouldn't split. She would die for him. Without question, without thought, without hesitation. But he wouldn't survive getting her killed.

Susannah has fallen silent, apparently waiting for him to suggest a solution. Guildford doesn't know if this is an Ethian thing or just a Susannah thing: allowing that the person with the problem probably knows themselves best. He thinks it's likely that she's wrong in his case, believing himself the picture of stunted self-knowledge and repressed memories. He takes a deep breath. He can't be that man anymore. It doesn't do anyone any good, himself included.

"I keep dreaming she was executed. You and the Ethians don't come, and I can't get free of the ropes, and I see her beheaded." His own throat feels painfully thick as he forces the words out.

"I can see why that'd be botherin' you."

"It nearly happened," Guildford agrees.

"That's not why. I don't think it's about Jane."

"Of course it is!"

But Susannah's shaking her head.

"It's not her who's powerless, it's you. In the dream, you're tethered. Outside the dream, what is it you feel you can't control?"

Slowly, Guildford understands what she's getting at. He answers, "My transformation. My Ethianism." He narrows his eyes at Susannah. "You're very insightful."

"I'm not, actually. You just have a very straightforward problem: mental impotence. See it all the time in men. Tragic affliction."

He catches sight of her smirk and wants to shove her off the log.

"Have the two of you been able to fuck since the near-execution, by the way?" Susannah asks.

"Thank you for the advice, doctor," Guildford says sarcastically, head cocked to one side, "but that is really none of your concern. Try meddling in your own relationship."

"What relationship would that be?"

He frowns.

"Are you and Archer not...?"

"Archer?!" Susannah catches herself and continues more softly. "In his dreams. Not to be insensitive," she adds, making Guildford roll his eyes. "But no, definitely not. Trust me, if he'd been lucky enough to have me in his bed, he wouldn't have been lookin' at..."

It's far too obvious that Susannah has just caught herself again, but Guildford's glad she did. His trust in his wife is absolute. That doesn't mean he would appreciate Archer attempting to come between them. He rises, deciding to forget Archer and focus on Jane.

"Try the sex thing," Susannah says on their parting. "It might help, is all!"

"Try the minding your own business thing!"

Guildford actually does plan on trying something thanks to this conversation, but it's not sex. (Yet. Later? Gods, yes.)

He doesn't try to sleep that night, not yet. He lies on his back in the dark, listening to the low murmur of conversation from the lookouts tending the campfire, to the sound of his own even breathing. He stares up at the trees, their shapes black against the blue-black night. Sometimes, he stares past them at the stars.

Before dawn, Guildford gently rouses Jane from where she sleeps beside him. Between treating the injured and being startled awake by his screams, she hasn't been getting as much rest as she needs, but he hopes she'll understand. Taking her hand, he leads her to a clearing a short distance from the camp. Someplace they'll be able to see the sky change colour ahead of sunrise. They walk with soft steps. The yawn Jane can't stifle has the round, open notes of birdsong. Soon, real birds begin to sing. He wonders whether any Ethians are among them.

Gradually, everything brightens.

"Stand here," Guildford says, taking Jane's hands in his plea, then dropping them and backing off to a safe distance.

She doesn't argue. He's told her about his mother.

Before the light of day can rush across the horizon, Guildford closes his eyes and concentrates. There's no risk of imminent death to compel him now. He has to know if he can do it anyway. Instead of resisting thoughts of the past, he permits himself to recall how it feels to change, concentrating until the sensation is alive in him. Instead of disconnecting from the present, he inhales the earthy scent of the forest, shifts his boots on the ground, knows without looking that Jane is standing where he left her, waiting for him, trusting him.

He changes just before daybreak.

In this form, his hearing is keener, keen enough to pick up Jane's quiet gasp from across the clearing. His own steady breathing expands his strong lungs, drawing in details of his environment that are beyond his human senses. What he likes best is Jane's smile as she approaches him, the soothing strokes of her hands on his face. He stands there on four legs, enjoying her gentle touch and the heat of the sun on his flank, then, closing his eyes to the world once more, Guildford changes back.

He's stumbling forward into Jane's arms before he realizes he never moved away from her before trying to transform. Obviously, his human form is smaller and therefore less of a hazard, but Guildford isn't convinced that was the ruling instinct. It felt more like... he just knew he could do it. He was sure of himself, in that body and in this one, and in whatever he is during the fleeting moment in between.

"Guildford! How did you do that?" she demands, full of awe and urgent curiosity. "I haven't seen you control it since the night we escaped the Tower!"

Yes, that's true. After bearing her away from that place, he turned back into a man. That's how he was when the Ethians found them, and how he remained through the night. At dawn, he despaired, once again becoming a horse against his will. It persisted. Day, horse. Night, man. The terrible dreams. This morning has been Guildford's first time taking the reins, so to speak. It's a colossal relief, and he looks lovingly into Jane's eyes, knowing she understands that much, even if she can't yet explain the rest.

It seems to him that the best words to say are, "I've always wanted to kiss you at daybreak."

"That's a lot of effort for a kiss," Jane observes.

"Then you'd better make it worth it," he retorts with a grin.

And he holds her, and she does.

[esimsterlookbook]

Avery Sims 4 CC Lookbook

Meet Avery, an influencer who just moved to Del Sol Valley!

Find base sim information here! (Too many links to post all at once)

Everyday:

Hair: SonyaSims 167 Hair Transcendent

Outfit: Busra-tr Baseball Jacket P91 / Aladdin Denise Cargo Pants / BED and Musae Sungsudong Chelsea Boots

Accessories: Simpliciaty Nubia Rings / Christopher067 Destiny Necklace / Praline Sims Malice Piercings / That Sims 4 Core Bunny Belly Bar v2

Makeup/Nails: Fashion Royalty Sims Lipstick N236 / Praline Sims Eyeliner 116 Cocoa / Veve Bisou Highlighter / Maxi Moons Haylee Nails

Formal:

Hair: Ade Darma Baby Style 3

Outfit: Eskinege Prom Dress / Senate Polly Sandals

Accessories: toksik Kamill Headband / Giulietta Sims Spica Star Bracelet / Christopher067 Idol Necklace / GiuliettaSims Tori Hoop Earrings / Praline Sims Malice Piercings / Mellouw Sims Clarity Rings / S-Club LL ts4 watch 202007

Makeup/Nails: Lady Simmer Kiss me Eyeshadow / Praline Sims Eyeliner N88 Sienna / sims3melancholic lipstick N9 / Veve Bisou Highlighter / GiuliettaSims Long Stiletto French Tips Ombre Nails

Athletic:

Hair: Java Sims Hope Hair

Outfit: Lazy Eyelids Sports Set top + bottom / BED TS4 FM We are young roller skate

Accessories: Joliebean JoliePods Headphones / Jolliebean Peak Performance Basic Socks / Joliebean Jolie Watch / Praline Sims Malice Earring + Lip Piercing / Sugar Owl Pentacle Rings

Sleep:

Hair: Anto Hair 407 Celina

Outfit: Busra-tr Lace Outfit Top P208 / Busra-tr Envy Outfit Shorts P156

Accessories: Dance Machine Trait Stockings / Praline Sims Papillon Glasses / Praline Sims Malice Piercings

Makeup/Nails: Alinnsie Facemask / Aretha Bee Chipped Nails

Party:

Hair: Anto Hailee Hair N267

Outfit: Belaloallure Ikera Dress / Regina Raven Platforms 07 V3

Accessories: Giulietta Sims Etta Earrings / Giulietta Sims Thick Link Chain Bracelet / Simpliciaty Dolly Rings / Praline Sims Malice Piercings / Giulietta Sims Denise Watch / Gorilla x3 Heart Ring Chain Choker

Makeup/Nails: Northern Siberia Winds Eyeliner N5 / Northern Siberia Winds Lips N30 / Praline sims Eyeshadow N94 Ice Queen / Veve Bisou Highlighter / Aprisims Festival Eye Dots / Maxi Moons Haylee Nails

Swim:

Hair: Sonya Sims 170 Piety Hair

Outfit: Camuflaje La Playa Collection Bikini Two Piece Set

Accessories: R Raven Garter / Aretha Bee Jayleen Sunglasses / Giulietta Sims Greek Key Bracelet / Simpliciaty Elia Rings / Simpliciaty Pixie Necklace / That Sims 4 Core Bunny Belly Bar v2

Makeup/Nails: Breezy Trait Petals Makeup / Lady Simmer Starfall Shadows / Praline Sims Eyeliner 121 Maze / sims3melancholic lipstick N9 / Giulietta Sims Long Stiletto Candy Tips Nails

Hot Weather:

Hair: Casual Sims Suzy Hair

Outfit: Serenity Sol Coverup / Mermalade Strappy Wide Heels S144

Accessories: S-Club Glasses 202001 / Praline Sims Malice Piercings / Christopher 067 Mahlia Rings

Makeup/Nails:

Peachy Faerie Brick Eyeshadow / GoppolsMe Gold Liner cc71 / Praline Sims Eyeliner 121 Maze / sims3melancholic lipstick N10 / Giulietta Sims Long Stiletto French Tips Ombre Nails

Cold Weather:

Hair: S-Club Nadia 010522 Hair

Outfit: Sentate Ethel Cardigan / Tauve Florence Denim Mini / Jius Leather Platform Ankle Boots 01

Accessories: EnriqueS4 Jane Earrings / Simpliciaty Azure Rings / Praline Sims Malice Piercings / Gorilla x3 Heart Charm Necklace / AxA Girlboss Tights

Makeup/Nails: Northern Siberia Winds Blush N8 Full Face / Northern Siberia Winds Lips N40 / Breezytrait Florence makeup / Lady Simmer princess beam eye shadow / Giulietta Sims Rounded Square Medium Glossy Nails

Thank you to all CC creators and please let me know if any links aren't working and I'll do my best to fix them!

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

ROLES I WANT DAVID TENNANT TO PLAY IN MUSICALS: THE MASTERLIST

Okay so I've divided this into three categories, which you shall see below!

Roles I Think David Could/Should Play NOW:

Charlie Guiteau in Assassins

someone in Brigadoon bc it would be funny

The Emcee in Cabaret

Ryuk in Death Note

The Man In The Chair in The Drowsy Chaperone

The Dysquith Family in A Gentleman's Guide to Love And Murder

Herbie in Gypsy

Hades in Hadestown

Frollo in Hunchback of Notre Dame (okay give him like five years)

The Baker in Into The Woods

Lord Chancellor in Iolanthe

Albin or Georges in La Cage Aux Folles (either one as long as the other is played by Michael Sheen)

Trunchbull in Matilda OKAY HEAR ME OUT (he could also do Mr Wormwood)

Henry Higgins in My Fair Lady

Fagin in Oliver

Tateh in Ragtime

Riff Raff OR Frank N Furter in Rocky Horror

Shakespeare in Something Rotten

Squidward in SpongeBob (im so serious)

Sweeney Todd (utterly delusional but I need it to happen)

The Wizard in Wicked

Roles I Think David Would Have Nailed When He Was Younger

The Balladeer in Assassins

anyone in Cats please it would be so funny (especially Munkustrap)

Connor Murphy in Dear Evan Hansen (like Campbell era come ON)

Motel in Fiddler on the Roof

Marvin in Falsettos (he MIGHT get away with that now not sure)

Monty in Gentleman's Guide

J.P. Finch in How To Succeed In Business Without Really Trying

Molina in Kiss of the Spider Woman

Emmet in Legally Blonde

Seymour in Little Shop of Horrors

Edgar Allan Poe in Nevermore

Leo Frank in Parade

Narrator/Cat in the Hat in Seussical

Georg in She Loves Me

any character Christian Borle played in Spamalot

Tobias Ragg in Sweeney Todd

Roles David Quite Doesn't Have The Instrument For But I Would Watch Him Do Them Anyway Bc He Would Act The Hell Out Of Them:

Any Elder in The Book of Mormon (Younger)

Robert in Bridges of Madison County

Bobby in Company (Younger)

Jervis in Daddy Long Legs (Younger)

Lucheni in Elisabeth (Younger)

or death. Rudolph too tbh

Bruce Bechdel in Fun Home

Edward Rochester in Jane Eyre

Henry Jekyll/Edward Hyde (younger)

Judas in Jesus Christ Superstar (younger)

Javert in Les Miserables

Christian in Moulin Rouge (Younger)

Pierre in Great Comet (this one actually kills me bc he and Phileas are so similar)

OR ANATOLE HOLY CRAP

Gabe in Next to Normal (Younger)

Erik in Phantom of the Opera

Mark Cohen in Rent (younger)

Noel Gruber or Ricky Potts in Ride the Cyclone (younger)

Archibald Craven in The Secret Garden

Joe/Josephine in Some Like It Hot

BURRS IN THE WILD PARTY OH I WISH THIS WERE REALISTIC IT WOULD BE SO GOOD

GOD this is long please spill the opinions so this was worth it

[madelynraemunson]

Bonus scene 𓆩♡𓆪

from the CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT universe (18+)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

timeline: 015, THIS SCENE, 016** | ** = smut

Eddie has an important question to ask you on your birthday.

contains: fluff, physical touch, flirting, loverboy!eddie, romantic eddie, implied history of abuse from billy

wc: 1k words

*play this while you read to really be immersed in st nostalgia* 🥹 (if you want)

♡

“Oh no,” you breathe.

Everything starts to make more sense when you see Steve waiting for you at Hellfire’s doors. He’s got the smuggest look on his face. You quickly try to turn and run the other way, already embarrassed. But the former Star Athlete is faster, immediately lunging at you to drag you into the club.

“Nope!” Harrington protests.

“Steve-” you begin.

“No no no no,” he shakes his head. “Where do you think you’re going, young lady?”

They’re all gonna see you like this. You hate to admit it, but you had just spent your entire commute crying — evident by your raccoon eyes — because you thought everyone (except for Billy) had forgotten your birthday.

Robin and Vicky were already out of the house by the time you woke up. Max, you assumed, got a ride from Steve to their new barista job. Chrissy turned down a pre-shift ‘Hot Girl Walk’, and Eddie never called. It was starting to feel like the most Adult birthday ever, but by a long shot not the worst.

“Put me down!” you persist.

Birthdays suck. Especially when you share one with your abuser. But you’re in a new era now. An era where you are loved, celebrated, and protected.

“SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SHY GIRL!”

You’re bombarded by obnoxious kazoos and party hats, streamers and confetti in all shapes and colors, and what looks like a homemade birthday cake in Jane (Mike’s girlfriend)’s hands, decorated with funky, florescent candles, and crafty red hearts that overpowered every inch of the thick white fondant.

“Oh my god,” you beam.

Max, Robin and Vicky. Chrissy, Argyle, Nancy, Jonathan, and Henry. Will, Lucas, Dustin, Mike, Jane, and Erica who also just had a birthday (she turned 18 last week). Steve. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant. All the faces you’ve grown to know and love since moving to Hawkins, all together in one room to celebrate YOU.

“We were trying so hard to keep this a secret,” Steve explains as he gives you a hug. “I’d say we did a pretty good job.”

“Yeah sorry we couldn’t get a better location,” Mike adds. “Chuck E Cheese was fully booked so Hellfire was the next best thing.”

“You guyssss,” you begin to sob. “This is oddly perfect. Thank you.”

“Well,” Jane says. She holds the cake up to your face. “There's no sense in waiting any longer. Make a wish!”

You close your eyes. I wish for life to always be this peaceful.

And when you open your eyes, you see Eddie in front of you, with a beautiful rose bouquet and a bag in his hands.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

His eyes are twinkling like a kid who woke up early on Christmas morning. You greet him with a warm hug to which he uses that opportunity to affectionately rub your back. You hear some soft “aww”s in the background, but you’re too infatuated with the man in front of you to jokingly scorn at whoever said it.

“How’d you know it was my birthday?” you ask him.

“You can find out lot of stuff from paperwork,” Eddie winks at you. “Specifically your resume. Which, might I say, is very impressive.”

“Why, thank you, sir,” you giggle.

You can tell the sir made Eddie’s stomach do somersaults. Completely blushing now, he hands you your gift in the form of a bag, ushering you to open it — right here — in front of everybody.

"You didn't have to..." you mutter quietly.

You take the bag from him.

"Yet… I did," Eddie spews confidently. He watches as you unwrap your gift. “I’d get you strippers but then it’d feel like work. And your bday should never feel like work.”

You nudge him as you roll your eyes. Such a fucking cornball.

But then you become the cornball. A tear begins to form in your eyes when you look at all your gifts. The roses. A custom metalhead Build-A-Bear with a leather jacket and jeans whose certificate reads “Eddie Bear”, and a gold plated charm bracelet from Everlasting Memories with your name engraved on it. But just when you think you had everything, Eddie scoops up the last one from the bottom. It’s a small wooden sign with a message on it.

CAN I BE YOUR BOYFRIEND?

“Oh my god…” is all you can say.

His voice is as gentle as the fingers he uses to patiently graze your arm. "So can I?"

The tear that formed in your eye finally trickles its way down your rosy red cheeks. "Of course you can."

Then you two share a kiss, eliciting an even louder swarm of “aww”s than the ones before, and generating a reaction from nearby, a very curious dancers.

“I hope you know how special you are to each and every one of us,” Eddie says to you. “Especially me, haha.”

You wipe the happy tears away from your eyes.

“It sure feels like it.”

Eddie gives you the day off and you use it to stuff your face and play board games with all your friends. Eventually after the short festivities you stay behind to chill with everyone for a bit. Then you go your own way to start making dinner, which you insisted on, at home.

When you get home, you’re surprised with another text message from Billy.

Billy Hargrove

I’d say the move has helped us a lot. I have room to miss you 🤣

You smile as you answer back.

To be better days ❤️ Happy birthday, brother. I miss you tons.

Billy Hargrove loved “To better days ❤️ Happy birthday, brother. I miss you tons.”

After your convo with Billy, you make your way over to the freezer to grab and defrost the chicken. Tonight’s menu consists of chicken, greens, and potatoes for dinner, followed by some birthday muffins Bob Newby had his bakers make at his coffee shop (courtesy of Max and Steve) for dessert.

Next, you begin to set the table, making sure to make seven settings for tonight: you, Max, Robin, Vicky, one for Eddie, and one for Wayne.

And when you’re finally done, you take a look around your house that you have made a home with your sister and best friends. You’re finally home. Hawkins is home. And for the first time in a really long time, you can truly say you’ve had… a happy birthday.

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @justinelittlewoodsworld , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay

[inevitablysomber-dark]

Loki's Sweet Treat

Dividers by @jiyascepter

Dark!Loki x Honey!Reader

About 20k words, so tread carefully

Honey Duval navigates the treacherous world of high society, facing family tensions, personal struggles, and Loki's dark interest in her. As she tries to protect her family's fragile reputation, Honey finds herself entangled in dangerous power plays and secrets that threaten her future.

Warning:

This story contains graphic content that may be disturbing to readers, including themes of sexual assault, manipulation, and emotional abuse. Explicit scenes involving non-consensual encounters, coercion, and power dynamics are present, which may be triggering for some readers.

The sun streamed in through the tall windows of Lady Jane's sitting room, casting a golden glow on the well-dressed women gathered for tea. The gentle clink of China and the murmur of conversation filled the air, yet I couldn’t help but feel entirely out of place. I lingered at the edge of the room, blending into the wallpaper as I clutched my teacup, regretting my decision to come to this wretched party.

Of course, I had little choice. My family, the Duvals, were barely clinging to their status, and everyone knew it. The invitations I received weren’t because I was welcome, they were because everyone wanted to bask in the schadenfreude of watching the once-prominent Duval family teeter on the brink of losing everything. That’s why I found myself at yet another gathering, pretending to fit in while my family’s fortunes slipped further through our fingers.

 Lady Jane, our host, sat near the center of the room, surrounded by her usual crowd of sycophants. I wasn’t sure which was worse, her thinly veiled hostility or the saccharine sweetness she used to mask it. Either way, she made my skin crawl and today, her vitriol was aimed squarely at the Royal Family of Asgard.

“Can you believe it?” Lady Jane sneered, her voice carrying across the room. “That woman, Cyan, is to be our future queen? It’s an outrage! A commoner, raised among peasants, is supposed to marry the crowned prince? What are they thinking?!”

Her audience murmured their agreement, some nodding so vigorously I wondered if their heads might fall off. They all knew better than to cross Lady Jane, who was still nursing her bitter disappointment over not being chosen by the prince herself. 

“I was so certain Thor had his eye on me,” Jane continued, her voice dripping with disdain. “But instead, they choose a woman without breeding, without class! Imagine Queen Freya’s humiliation.”

One of the ladies beside her leaned in. “I’ve heard the queen is mortified. She’s so ashamed of the match that she barely speaks of it.”

 I tried to tune out their gossip, but it was impossible. This was what passed for entertainment among women like Jane,tearing down anyone who dared to rise above their station.  

I took a small sip of tea, my gaze wandering to where my younger sister, Saffron, sat. She was newly debuted, and though she carried herself with grace, I knew she felt as out of place as I did. It was hard not to, with the ever-looming threat of our family’s collapse hanging over our heads. 

 “The only good thing to come from this debacle,” Jane’s voice cut through my thoughts, “is the ball they’re throwing to celebrate the engagement. At least we’ll get a grand event out of it.”

 The other women tittered with laughter, clearly enjoying the idea of a lavish ball more than the prospect of a common-born queen.

And to think," Jane added, her voice lowering, "there were times Thor would have done anything to get under my skirts. What a shame he felt the need to settle for Cyan."

The room erupted into gasps and giggles, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes. The audacity. The rumor about Lady Jane and Thor had been swirling for ages, but I had my doubts. If Thor had ever entertained such an affair, he certainly wasn’t entertaining it now.

 I leaned back against my chair, feeling invisible and detached from their world of petty gossip and social climbing. The Duvals may have been struggling, but at least we hadn’t descended to Lady Jane’s level of desperation. Not yet, anyway.

 As the conversation continued to swirl around me, I couldn’t help but wonder what it was like for someone like Cyan, entering a world that was waiting for her to fail. And as much as I despised Lady Jane’s cruelty, I also feared for what might be in store for me and Saffron. After all, even those who seemed untouchable could easily be cast aside.

The tea party was a spectacle of opulence, an excuse for the nobility to gather and show off their status. I sat toward the edge of the gathering with Saffron, doing my best to blend into the background. It wasn’t difficult, most of the women here treated us as though we didn’t exist. I should’ve known better than to come, but Mother had insisted we make an appearance. As if mingling with these people could somehow save the Duval name.

I heard the snickers before I even focused on the conversation.

"Honestly, it’s a miracle the Duvals are still being invited to these things," Lady Margaret said, her voice unnecessarily loud. She made no effort to lower her tone, her words clearly meant for my ears. "You’d think they’d have the good sense to keep a low profile instead of parading their desperation."

The other women laughed, their voices high and cruel. Saffron’s face turned pale beside me, her fingers nervously clutching her tea. I clenched my fists under the table.

"They’re just biding their time, hoping to sell off one of those pretty daughters to keep the estate afloat," Lady Sharon added, her gaze flickering over to us briefly. "Though I doubt anyone of real consequence would be interested."

The comment hung in the air, and the group of women dissolved into more laughter. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. They weren’t even trying to be subtle. It was as if our very existence amused them, as if our struggles were a source of entertainment.

“Pathetic,” Jane sneered. “Trying to scrape by with the little dignity they have left.I would have never invited them had mother not insisted”

The tension within me snapped.

I stood up slowly, forcing my hands to unclench. "It’s curious, Lady Jane," I said, my voice calm though every word was sharpened with intention, "how loudly you speak about dignity when it’s something you’ve long since thrown away."

The laughter died abruptly, and all eyes turned to me. Saffron looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. But I had reached my limit.

Jane blinked, her mouth tightening. "Excuse me?"

I stepped forward, refusing to be intimidated. "I’ve heard the rumors, Jane. Everyone has. You thought lying on your back would secure yourself a crown, as if a few stolen moments beneath a prince would make you queen." I let the words sink in, watching as Jane’s composure faltered. "It’s rather tragic, really, how you’ve convinced yourself that by spreading your legs, you could spread your influence."

There was a collective gasp from the group, their mouths hanging open in shock.

Jane’s face went pale, then flushed a deep crimson. “You—how dare you speak to me like that!”

"I dare because it's the truth," I said coolly, holding her gaze. "You gamble with your pride, and yet here you are, no crown, no prince, no claim, just a scorned woman who can’t seem to grasp why a prince didn’t choose her."

The room had gone deathly silent. Saffron was staring at me, wide-eyed, and the other ladies looked like they couldn’t decide whether to intervene or flee. Jane’s face contorted with fury, but before she could spit out a retort, I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice.

"Next time you want to mock someone’s struggles, Jane, make sure your own failures aren’t quite so obvious."

I straightened up and walked back toward my seat, feeling every pair of eyes on me. Saffron looked at me as though I’d just declared war on the entire room, her hands trembling in her lap.

I could feel Jane’s burning stare, her dignity in tatters, but she said nothing. She couldn’t. The truth had been laid bare, and no amount of biting retort could salvage her pride now.

"Saffron, let’s go." My voice was steady, though my heart still raced from the confrontation. I guided my sister out of the room, her arm linked through mine, and we stepped out into the cool air, away from the judgment and venom of those who thrived on misfortune.

We were still the subject of their gossip, still teetering on the edge of ruin. But I wouldn’t let them crush us. Not without a fight.

Baroness Helena Duval, my mother, paced the drawing room, her eyes sharp and angry as she threw a furious glance at me. My father, Reginald, stood at the window with his back to us, silent, as was his usual stance when my mother unleashed her wrath.

"I can't believe you! Every invitation we had received, every opportunity to mingle with those that could possibly save us, gone!" she shouted, her voice trembling with rage.

I remained silent, standing in the corner with Saffron beside me, while my mother focused all her ire on me. "Do you understand what you've done? Lady Jane is connected to half the nobility in the kingdom! And what do you do? Confront her about her...fraternizing with the Crown Prince?"

She spat out the last words as if they were poison, her tone as biting as ever. But I wasn’t about to apologize, not to Lady Jane, and certainly not for speaking the truth.

Helena's sharp eyes flicked over to Saffron, softening just a touch as she sighed deeply. "Why can't you be more like your sister? Graceful, quiet, and demure. Everything a young lady should be."

Saffron, at those words, dropped her head in shame, and my heart clenched for her. I knew she hated when our mother used her as an example, especially because "graceful and demure" really meant spineless. Saffron had told me that, late one night when we were younger, and ever since then, whenever someone praised her, I knew she felt nothing but shame.

I reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze, letting her know I understood. I wasn’t offended by my mother’s words; I knew this was simply how she thought. To her, Saffron was the perfect daughter, the one who played her role quietly, and I- well, I was the one who didn’t know when to keep my mouth shut.

My mother’s sharp eyes softened momentarily when she noticed me grab Saffron’s hand, but her anger was far from gone. She let out a deep, exasperated sigh, shaking her head before turning to me, her voice dripping with frustration.

“What in God's name possessed you to confront Lady Jane in the first place?” she asked, her tone sharp, though not quite as biting as before.

I raised my chin, meeting her gaze directly. "She called us pathetic," I said simply.

She paused, her eyes flickering with something close to understanding. For a brief moment, the fury drained from her face, and she almost looked sympathetic. Almost.

"I understand your frustration, Honey. Truly, I do," she admitted, her voice gentler now. "But jumping straight into social suicide...was that really the best course of action?"

I bit my tongue, looking down at my feet. No, it wasn’t.

 "We are on the verge of losing everything," she said, her voice softer but filled with a different kind of anger. "This was our chance, Honey. The ball, the invitations...they were supposed to help secure our future. Now-now we are outcasts. Again."

I said nothing, knowing full well she wasn’t looking for a reply. But deep down, I couldn’t regret my actions, not when I thought of the smug look on Lady Jane’s face as she droned on about her imagined place in the royal court.

As my mother left the room in frustration, I turned to Saffron, squeezing her hand again. The weight of the world felt like it was pressing down on both of us, and there didn’t seem to be any easy way out of it.

“At least we won’t be wasting any more money on dresses and jewelry,” I muttered under my breath.

At that, my father let out a hearty laugh, walking up to the both of us but locking his gaze on me.

“You realize what you did could ruin us, right?” His voice carried a mixture of amusement and warning.

I dropped my head, swallowing the knot in my throat. “Yes, Father,” I answered, my voice begrudging but respectful.

He grunted, smirking as he leaned down to kiss both Saffron and me on the forehead.

“Don’t worry too much, my dear. We’ll get through this, like we always have,” he said, his tone light, almost dismissive of the severity of the situation.

It didn't erase the weight of my mother’s words or the danger we were in, but my father’s confidence, misplaced or not, eased the tension for moments as brief as these.

The Duvals were enjoying a rare moment of quiet in their living space. Saffron and Mother were embroidering by the window, their needles gliding through fabric with delicate precision. Father and I sat side by side, each absorbed in the local news when our butler, Gerard, suddenly burst into the room, his face flushed with excitement.

"Baroness, Baron! You’ve received an invitation from the palace!" he announced, holding the crisp, cream-colored envelope as though it were made of pure gold. 

Mother looked up from her embroidery, visibly shocked. "An invitation?" she murmured, her voice barely hiding her surprise. I could see it in her eyes, she had resigned herself to a quiet fall from grace, expecting our family to fade into the background without further notice. Yet here was a summons, proof that the royal family had not completely turned its back on us.

Father reached for the envelope, breaking the royal seal. He cleared his throat before reading aloud: “You are cordially invited to the engagement party of the Crown Prince Thor and his fiancée Cyan.”

A surprised chuckle escaped my lips. Of all the people to be engaged to a prince, it was Lady Cyan. She had no title and no noble lineage to speak of, yet here she was, about to marry the future king.What a fairytale. The invitation, unsurprisingly, didn’t mention any title for Lady Cyan, she had none yet, but once she married Thor, she would become the Crowned Princess.

I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of delight. Deep down, I couldn’t deny my penchant for stirring the pot of intrigue. And watching someone like Cyan, a peasant girl, rise to a position of power was sure to throw the entire class system into chaos. And with our family teetering on the edge of ruin, what was the harm in finding a little entertainment before we were booted from high society?

The evening of the party arrived quickly. The Royal Garden was breathtaking, every inch of it meticulously prepared for the grand affair. Saffron and I stood by the fountain, sipping champagne and enjoying the soothing trickle of the water as we waited for the royal family to make their entrance.

When they finally appeared, the crowd gasped in awe. King Odin and Queen Freya entered first, regal as ever, their presence demanding respect. Hela and Loki followed, each exuding their own form of royal authority. And then, the couple of the hour, Prince Thor and Lady Cyan.

I nearly choked on my champagne when I saw Lady Cyan.

She looked... awful.

Her hair was down but tangled and unbrushed, her makeup was smeared and unflattering, and worst of all, she wore a dress that had been popular last season, as if she hadn’t noticed the fashion had moved on. Even her shoes were an insult,flats, when everyone knew a proper royal event required heels. It was clear to me that the palace maids had set her up for failure, likely encouraged by none other than the ladies in waiting, who were no doubt snickering behind her back.

A quick glance toward Lady Jane confirmed my suspicions. There she was, surrounded by her loyal gaggle of women, all of them giggling into their gloves like schoolgirls. I could practically hear the whispers, whispers that Jane herself had probably orchestrated.

Yet, even as Cyan stood there, a vision of royal disaster, Thor remained unfazed. He looked at her as if she were the only person in the room, his eyes filled with love and admiration. It was almost endearing, in a sickening sort of way.

When the time came for the royals to mingle, I made sure to stay out of the way. I had no intention of angering Mother any further after the debacle with Lady Jane. Saffron, naturally, trailed behind me like a shadow, her shy demeanor making her hesitant to stray too far. She chattered quietly about a romance novel she’d been reading with her friends, her soft voice blending with the music that floated through the garden. Just as she was getting to a particularly juicy part, where the Duke of the novel had finally caught the Princess in a compromising position, our mother appeared, with Duke Bruce Banner in tow.

Mother’s smile was painfully forced as she practically pushed Saffron into Duke Banner’s path. "Saffron, darling, the Duke was just asking about you," she cooed, already working her magic to arrange yet another another potential match for her favorite child. Despite Saffron’s beauty,for some reason her shy and quiet nature had kept many potential husbands at bay, one would think they’d enjoy it.But Mother wasn’t one to give up easily.

I stood back, watching the exchange with a knowing smile. Saffron might be the favorite, but she hated being paraded around like this. I gave her a sympathetic glance before turning my attention elsewhere. I had no interest in finding a match tonight, especially not when I was feeling like a mere observer to a world that was slipping away from us.

While Mother busied herself with Saffron and the Duke, I slipped away, seeking solace at the border where the Royal Garden met the Royal Forest. The sounds of the party grew distant as I found a quiet bench beneath a cluster of trees, my thoughts swirling as I sipped the last of my champagne. This engagement party was a disaster for Lady Cyan, and no doubt her ascension would continue to be entertaining, if nothing else, it would distract the nobles from our impending downfall.

The sound of a timid "Oh" pulled me from the quiet of my thoughts. I turned my head and found the future Crowned Princess standing a few feet away, wringing her hands and staring at me with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt," Lady Cyan stammered, already stepping back as though she had committed some great offense.

“Nonsense,” I replied, rising from my seat near the edge of the garden. “If anything, I am intruding on your walk.” I bowed my head before making my way elsewhere, but she quickly spoke again, her voice hesitant.

“Could you stay? I mean... if you don’t mind.”

I paused, unsure if I should humor the girl or retreat to the quiet, I had sought. Yet when I looked at her, there was something in her manner that reminded me of Saffron, fragile, in need of protection, utterly ill-suited to the cruel ways of this world. With a slight nod I sat back down, on bench, and she hurried to sit next to me. How unflattering for a future queen.

We sat in comfortable silence at first, the air between us light but unspoken words hanging on the edge of her lips. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I didn't realize the noble world could be so cruel."

I glanced at her sideways. “Prince Thor did not warn you?”

She looked down, a small, sad smile playing on her lips. “He didn’t have time, considering how he picked me from a crowd.”

Now, that caught my attention. “How do you mean?” I asked, leaning in slightly.

Lady Cyan glanced around as if to ensure we were alone, then spoke in a lowered tone, “I used to be... a lady of the night.” She cast her eyes to the ground. “Thor was just a regular customer. I never got the chance to see the royal family, so I didn’t know who he really was. He didn’t use his name either, he just called himself Donar.”

I barely managed to conceal my surprise. This was... extraordinary. “How did you come to be his fiancée?” I asked, genuinely intrigued now.

Lady Cyan sighed. “I was out one morning buying groceries for my mother when a knight seized me and pulled me into a carriage with Thor. That’s when he told me who he really was. He said he wanted me to marry him.”

I blinked, trying to suppress a laugh. “And you thought this was... what? A joke?”

“At first, yes,” she said with a small, embarrassed chuckle. “The next thing I knew, my mother and I were having breakfast with the king and queen.”

Now, this was beyond amusing. I had always known Prince Thor to be impulsive, rumors about him were legendary, but this? This was another level entirely. A peasant marrying into royalty was scandalous enough, but a former courtesan? The whole system was bound to erupt. I could hardly contain my amusement.

Lady Cyan frowned slightly, noticing my reaction. “What’s so funny?”

I gave her a knowing look. “Oh, it’s nothing... except how very on-brand this is for Prince Thor. You should be careful, though. That bit of information? You should keep it to yourself.”

Her eyes widened in panic. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

I waved a hand. “Of course not. But be warned, others won’t be so kind. You’d best keep quiet about your past if you want to survive this court.”

Lady Cyan nodded, her expression softening into one of gratitude. “I was just... so grateful to be here. To wear such fine clothing...”

I looked at her more closely. And her ungodly look “Who dressed you for tonight?” I asked, already suspecting the answer.

“Hela had some of her ladies-in-waiting help me,” she replied.

I sighed, shaking my head. “Don’t let them help you again. They made you look ragged, and it was likely intentional.”

Her face fell. “I had a feeling when everyone started laughing at me... The servants say awful things when they think I’m not listening. That Lady Jane should have been Thor’s bride. They don’t know why he chose me.”

My blood boiled. “Fuck them,” I said without thinking.

Lady Cyan gasped, clearly shocked by my language. I rolled my eyes. “Listen, you need to build your own court. Your own ladies-in-waiting, your own servants,and most importantly your own thick-skin. As long as these current people remain, they will never respect you, and they will always try to make you look the fool.”

She hesitated. “I don’t know if I can do that...”

I gave her a stern look. “Do you want to be treated like this for the rest of your life?”

She fell silent.

“You’re going to be queen one day. Prince Thor would give you anything you ask for, that I could clearly see, so use that power. Snuggle up to him, get what you need, and make yourself comfortable. You’ll be here for a long time, Lady Cyan. You might as well rule in comfort.”

She nodded slowly; her gaze thoughtful. I could tell she was unsure of herself, but if she had any hope of surviving this world, she would need to learn quickly. And if I had to give her a push in the right direction, so be it.

“Cyan!” A voice cut through the stillness of the garden, deep and unmistakably male.

Both of us turned toward the sound, and soon enough, Prince Loki stepped into view. His presence carried the same shadowy grace as always, but this time, his gaze briefly flickered to me before settling on Cyan.

“Your fiancé is looking for you,” he said smoothly, though his eyes lingered on me a moment longer. “I suggest you go calm him before he sends out a search party.”

“Oh, right! Of course!” Lady Cyan hurriedly stood, her flustered movements betraying her nervousness. I rose to my feet as well, out of courtesy.

“Thank you so much for the advice...” Lady Cyan paused, her brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Honey. Honey Duval.” I offered my hand, knowing full well it was improper, but she didn’t seem to notice. She shook it with the casual grace of someone entirely untrained in court etiquette.

“I’m Cyan,” she smiled, her warmth genuine if not misplaced.

“I know” I retort, a smile on my face

I made a mental note: the girl would need to refine such small gestures if she hoped to command any respect in the court. There was more to being a princess than simply having the prince’s affection.

I watched as  she hurried away, her pace quickening as she no doubt rushed to find her fiancé before he acted on Prince Loki’s warning. Once she disappeared into the crowd, I turned, ready to find my family, only to realize Prince Loki hadn’t moved. He was still standing near, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

I immediately curtsied. “Prince Loki,” I murmured, trying to sound composed as I stood straight again, preparing to make my exit.

But before I could take a step, his voice stopped me cold. “I haven’t dismissed you yet.”

I froze, the weight of his words pulling me back in place. “Duval,” he repeated, his voice low and deliberate, letting the name roll off his tongue as though it were some kind of secret he was savoring. Then he moved toward me, closing the distance until he was standing mere inches from my face.

Prince Loki was an intimidating man, far more dangerous than most cared to admit. I’d heard the stories, of course, of the legendary battles between him and Prince Thor, the ferocity with which they fought their enemies and, at times, each other. And though I prided myself on my resolve, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of fear. His presence, so dark and calculated, was enough to unsettle even the strongest of wills.

“You are of a house with status,Barons, I believe?” His words were a statement, not a question, as though he already knew the answer.

“Yes, Prince Loki,” I replied, forcing myself to keep my voice steady.

He smirked, his eyes glinting with a cruel amusement. “So, then you should’ve known better than to extend your hand to the future ruler of Asgard.”

I stiffened at the reprimand. I knew I’d made a mistake, but hearing it so coldly from his lips made it sting all the more. He sighed dramatically. “But I suppose... what else could one expect from a falling house?”

His words were a dagger. Before I could stop myself, my spine straightened, and the retort slipped from my lips without a second thought. “Nothing as bad as one would expect from a treacherous prince.”

The moment the words escaped me, regret surged through my veins like ice. I had struck too close to the truth, to the rumors that still clung to his name even after all these years. I knew of Loki’s dark history, how, as a young man, he had once betrayed Asgard by siding with Jotunheim in a fit of jealousy, trying to seize the throne from King Odin and Prince Thor. Though he had redeemed himself by turning around and conquering Jotunheim, earning back the trust of the kingdom, the title of “Treacherous Prince” still lingered in whispers.

Personally, I wouldn’t be so quick to forgive someone who’s so eager to switch sides.

Realizing my mistake, I immediately began to apologize, my voice rushing out in a panic. “Prince Loki, I didn’t mean-”

He squinted, annoyance flashing in his eyes, but to my surprise, there was amusement as well. His lips curled into a smirk; his expression unreadable. “Bold,” he murmured, stepping even closer. “But foolish. You may Go.”

Then, before I could react, he grabbed me, pulling me roughly against his chest. My heart pounded as he leaned in, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, “Remember, I have more power than you. And with that power, I can do far more damage.”

He released me with a shove, and I stumbled back, fear and dread gripping my heart. The reality of what I’d just done washed over me like a tidal wave. Loki was not the type of man to forgive easily, and I had just signed the Duval family’s death warrant with my reckless words.

Terrified, I hurried away, my mind racing as I realized just how dire our situation had become. If Loki so wished, he could destroy us with a single utterance, and I had just given him reason to do so.

Several weeks had passed without a single word from the palace. It was strange, the quiet. The Duvals had not received any invitations to events or gatherings, but oddly enough, things seemed to be looking up,at least on the surface. Duke Banner’s interest in Saffron had become more obvious with each passing day. Bouquets of delicate flowers arrived regularly, along with boxes of sweets, each one more decadent than the last. He must have somehow learned of Saffron’s love for such indulgences. While I found his eagerness unsettling, Mother insisted it was nothing to be concerned about, calling it a sign of his devotion.

But I could see the confusion in Saffron’s eyes. She didn’t know how to respond to the Duke’s affections. Her heart was too gentle, too uncertain. She was torn between her own feelings and the expectations placed upon her. I couldn’t blame her,I had my own storm to contend with.

Prince Loki. The memory of our confrontation still hung over me like a dark cloud, heavy and foreboding, threatening to break at any moment. I had said nothing to Mother, choosing instead to wait for the inevitable disaster. Confiding in her would only shatter this brief illusion of peace.

That afternoon, Saffron and I were sitting in the garden, playing a quiet game of spades, trying to enjoy the mild weather. The gentle breeze was soothing, if only for a moment. But then, a sharp, piercing scream cut through the calm.

Both of us snapped our heads toward the commotion, just in time to see Mother rushing toward us, the head maid trailing closely behind. Her hands waved an envelope above her head, the royal crest glinting in the sunlight.

My stomach lurched. This was it. The reckoning I had feared.

Saffron, always attuned to my unease, clasped my hand under the table, offering silent comfort. She knew everything that happened with Prince Loki. We told each other everything.

Mother reached us, breathless, her eyes wide and brimming with excitement. “Honey!” she exclaimed, waving the envelope as if it were a priceless relic. “You’ve been summoned to the royal palace!”

I froze, my heart pounding. What?

Mother continued, her voice filled with barely contained glee. “You’ve been called to interview as a lady-in-waiting for the future queen!”

The words barely registered. “What?” I whispered, my voice thin and shaky. I glanced at Saffron, seeing my own disbelief reflected in her wide eyes. Surely this was some kind of cruel jest.

But Mother, oblivious to the shock etched on our faces, began reading the letter aloud. The future queen, Cyan, had personally selected me for consideration. Me. Out of all the girls. The words blurred together as my mind drifted back to Loki. Had he said nothing? Was this a game?

Mother’s excited voice pulled me back to the present as she finished reading, her arms suddenly wrapping around Saffron and me in a tight embrace. “This is it! Things are finally looking up!” she squealed, her joy almost tangible. “This is exactly what we needed!”

I remained silent, my thoughts spinning out of control. This invitation, no, this summons,could either be our salvation or the final blow that brought everything crashing down. And somehow, I knew… this wasn’t a coincidence.

I sat across from Lady Cyan in the quiet Receiving Room, the silence hanging heavily between us. She fidgeted, her fingers tracing the edge of her chair, clearly uncomfortable with the weight of the moment. I waited, wondering if she would speak first, but when it became apparent she was at a loss, I decided to break the silence.

"Your Highness," I began, keeping my voice measured, "is there anything you'd like to ask me?"

Lady Cyan blinked, as though startled by the question. "Oh," she replied softly, her uncertainty palpable. "I... I’m not really sure what I should ask. I requested that the Queen and Princess Hela be present, but they... well, they refused."

She seemed embarrassed by the admission, and I realized, once again, how out of place she must feel here. The future Queen of Asgard, yet still lost within the complexities of court.

"Would you like me to guide you, Your Highness?" I offered gently, knowing she needed a nudge.

She nodded, looking relieved. "Yes, please."

"Well," I began, "what do you think of me as a candidate so far?"

Lady Cyan straightened in her chair, her posture suddenly more formal. "I like you. I think you would have my back. Even Loki agrees."

“Prince Loki?” I asked 

She nodded “Yes, in fact when I mentioned That I would like to get my own Ladies in Waiting, he suggested you as the first one.”

How Curious.

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her directness. "Right.” I chose then to ignore the mention of Prince Loki “So then,Why do you like me, and how do you believe that would benefit you in the court?"

She hesitated before speaking again, her voice quieter, almost vulnerable. "Since I arrived at the palace, I’ve felt like an outsider. No one truly talks to me, except Thor. The conversation we had in the royal garden…" she trailed off, as if collecting her thoughts. "It felt real, like I could tell you anything. And when you advised me not to spread the truth of my past, I felt... safe. You didn’t judge me, and you kept your word so far. I haven’t heard any whispers of it since. That’s why I feel like I can trust you."

She glanced down at her lap, her tone sincere but unsure, as if she feared I might turn her words against her. There was a certain naivety about her, but it was clear she was trying to navigate the treacherous waters of the court. I folded my hands in my lap and smiled softly.

"So you met me and felt that I could be useful to you?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.

Lady Cyan's eyes widened, shaking her head frantically. "Oh no, I don’t want you to think I’m using you."

I couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at her flustered reaction. "That’s the system, Your Highness. Everyone in court uses everyone else to further their own agendas. If you are deemed useless, they’ll find a way to cast you aside."

Lady Cyan nodded slowly, absorbing my words like a student eager to learn. She seemed to be coming to terms with the harsh reality of her new life. This wasn’t the world of commoners she once knew; here, survival depended on alliances and strategic moves.

"So," I pressed on, "since you already had a good impression of me during our first meeting, what is it you’re trying to confirm now, in this interview?"

Lady Cyan shifted, clearly embarrassed again, her voice barely above a whisper. "Well... I wanted to hire you immediately, but Queen Freya said that was nonsense. She told me I should at least have an interview with you first."

It was clear that Queen Freya expected me to decline her request. After all, who in their right mind would willingly work under a former commoner, especially with my family teetering on the brink of ruin? But the Queen, in all her wisdom and grandeur, had overestimated my penchant for pride and underestimated the deep-rooted vitriol I held for the very system that sought to throw me and my family to the dogs.

I couldn't help but smile at her honesty, and there was something endearing about her candor. It was clear she was out of her depth, but there was potential in her, potential that could be nurtured if handled correctly. I leaned forward, my tone reassuring.

"Then, Your Highness, you have my word. If you choose to have me by your side, I will ensure you have what you need to succeed in this court. But remember, loyalty goes both ways. I will protect you, but I ask for the same in return."

Lady Cyan met my gaze, her expression softening with relief. "I understand, Honey. Thank you."

I nodded, knowing that from this moment forward, I had entered a dangerous alliance. The future Queen would need more than just trust; she would need strength. And if I was to help her navigate the world she had been thrust into, I would have to play this game carefully, for both our sakes.

My first week working under Lady Cyan, I made it clear that I was there to observe. She agreed, a bit relieved, I think. I spent the week silently watching the way the servants treated her, the way the butlers undermined her every word, and how Hela’s ladies-in-waiting, who were temporarily assigned to her, blatantly ignored her.

Lady Cyan mostly ate alone with her mother, and when they did, it was pitiful. They served them meals that even my own family, on the verge of ruin, would refuse. But when she dined with Prince Thor, everything was immaculate, like a magic switch had been flipped. Even Prince Thor’s courtiers, the ones supposed to show respect to the future queen, treated her poorly.

 And then there was the mountain of paperwork they threw at her, expecting her to understand and manage the upkeep of the palace without any guidance. It was clear that she was not only doing her work but the work of Hela’s ladies-in-waiting as well.

I had seen enough.

"Why haven’t you hired the new staff after I told you to?" I asked her one afternoon.

She sighed; exhaustion etched into every feature. "I haven’t had the time," she said.

"Of course you haven’t," I retorted. "You’re buried in work that doesn’t even belong to you."

As I watched her, overwhelmed and far too thin, I was reminded again of Saffron. Someone kind, gentle, and easily taken advantage of. This was more work than I’d intended to take on, but someone needed to help her.

"First things first," I said, taking hold of her wrist gently. "We’re hiring you a personal chef. You’re entirely too thin, and it’s obvious the kitchen staff has no intention of keeping you healthy."

"Will I be able to?" she asked, her voice soft and uncertain.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "I don’t know. What do your funds look like?"

"Oh, I don’t—"

I didn’t let her finish. I strode over to her desk, pulling out her accounting book. As I read through the pages, it was clear. The funds allocated to Lady Cyan were being skimmed, and heavily. According to the records, she was eating lavish meals, wearing the latest fashions, and buying expensive jewelry. And yet, here she was, sitting in a handdown dress, malnourished and mistreated.

"When was the last time you spent any of the funds given to you?" I asked, holding the book up to her.

Lady Cyan’s face crumpled in confusion. "I didn’t know I was receiving any funds. Prince Thor didn’t tell me."

I shut the book with a sharp thud. "He’s not supposed to. That’s the job of his courtier. His courtier was meant to show you how to manage your paperwork, how your finances work, and how to oversee your responsibilities, both in maintaining the palace and fulfilling your duties to the kingdom."

Cyan blinked, clearly overwhelmed. This explained everything. No wonder she hadn’t hosted any balls or tea parties, and why she was wearing tattered clothing.

"Someone is stealing from you," I said firmly, my eyes narrowing as I considered the possibilities. "And I’m willing to bet the accountant knows exactly who."

 I shut her books and tucked them under my arm, turning to Lady Cyan with a calm but firm expression. “Show me where accounting is.”

She perked up immediately. “Oh, okay.” She started to stand, but as soon as she did, I noticed her posture was completely atrocious, slouched shoulders, head bowed. I stopped her with a slight raise of my hand.

“Before we continue, straighten your back, stretch your neck, and hold your head high,” I instructed. Lady Cyan blinked at me but did as I asked. I spent a few moments adjusting her posture, teaching her how to carry herself with dignity. She still moved with a bit of awkwardness, but with practice, she would improve.

As we made our way to the accounting office, I trailed behind her, as any good lady-in-waiting would. When we arrived, Lady Cyan politely asked the receptionist, Miss Elara Merton, if she could meet with Lord Gregor Voss.

Merton barely glanced at us and replied with obvious disdain, “He’s busy.”

I felt my temper flare. “Well, that’s too bad,” I said, stepping past her and bursting into the office. I had no patience left. Lady Cyan was being mistreated at every turn in this castle, and I couldn’t help but think had it been me the castle would have long ago been set ablazed.

There was Lord Voss, in all his disgrace, caught mid-act with a woman who was most certainly not Lady Voss. The woman, mortified, hurriedly gathered her things and bolted from the room.

“What the hell?” Lord Voss spluttered, adjusting his trousers.

“The future Queen of Asgard wishes to speak with you,” I said coolly.

He looked past me and saw Lady Cyan, standing in the doorway, her expression a mixture of shock and expectancy.

“I’m busy,” he repeated, sounding more defensive than before.

“Oh, we can see that,” I replied, feeling a rush of satisfaction at the scene. I couldn’t wait to tell Saffron about this later.

I ushered Lady Cyan into the room as Miss Merton approached, trying to assert some sort of authority. I stepped up to her, meeting her eyes with an intimidating glare that left no room for argument. “Step back,” I said, my tone commanding. Intimidated, she complied, and I shut the door behind us.

I walked up to Lord Voss and fixed him with a stare. “Tell us who has been taking money from Lady Cyan’s funds.”

Voss blinked, taken aback by the direct question, but he quickly regained his composure. “Lady Cyan has been making purchases on her own,” he said with a practiced smoothness. “Just check her accounting book. Her ladies-in-waiting bring in the necessary—"

“So, Hela’s ladies-in-waiting are stealing from Cyan?” I cut in sharply.

“I did not say that,” he stammered. “I was simply—"

“Of course you did,” I interrupted, holding up the accounting book I had taken. “Jewelry, clothing, shoes, and food, purchases made with her funds. Yet, look at her.” I gestured toward Cyan, who stood looking pale and tired, her dress ill-fitting and her frame almost fragile. “She wears none of it, and she’s thin as a pencil. The ladies-in-waiting have been making these purchases for themselves. They are stealing from her.”

“Baroness Duval—” Voss began.

“That’s my mother,” I said, flashing him a cold smile. “Just call me Lady Honey.”

“Right,” Voss muttered, leaning in to whisper, “Lady Honey. Between you and I, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was hoarding it all.”

That was the last straw. I grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close enough that he could see the fire in my eyes. Cyan gasped softly behind me.

“Listen here, you pathetic excuse for a man,” I hissed. “If you do not tell us who’s been stealing from the future Queen of Asgard, the next person walking through those doors will be the Crowned Prince Thor himself.” His eyes widened in fear, and I pressed further. “Or maybe I should let Lady Voss know exactly what you’ve been up to at work, since we all know who truly runs your household.”

Voss paled and quickly surrendered. “Okay, okay, it is Lady Vivienne, a maid named Kelly, and Lord Cyril Vance.”

“How spineless.” I shoved him back, wiping my hands of his filth. With a gentle voice I turn to Lady Cyan “Let us go.” as I have her walk ahead of me

I opened the door for her, and she walked out with her head held a little higher than before. When we returned to her office,she collapsed into tears, overwhelmed by the realization of how many people had been betraying her.

“Lady Vivienne is one of Princess Hela’s ladies-in-waiting, and Lord Cyril Vance is Thor’s courtier,” she sobbed. “What am I to do now?”

I embraced her gently, offering comfort before I spoke firmly. “You fire them.”

She stops to look at me, as if I’d said something ridiculous “I can’t do that,” she protested, shaking her head.

“Then ask Prince Thor to do it,” I suggested.

“But I—”

“Listen, Lady Cyan,” I interrupted softly but seriously. “You need a completely new court. Not only are they insulting you, but they’re also stealing from you. I understand you don’t want to rattle the cage, but you must do the uncomfortable things now so that you can be comfortable later. You have power now. Use it.”

She paused, considering my words. Then, with a hesitant nod, she whispered, “Okay.”

For the next several months, Cyan had gone on a thorough firing spree, and anyone she couldn’t directly remove was replaced for personal matters, leaving them slowly edged out. I was with her every step of the way, ensuring that each word she spoke was met with the respect and dignity she deserved.

The first major task was sending Hela back her ladies-in-waiting. Lady Cyan, with newfound confidence, informed Hela that Vivienne had been embezzling money from her books. I made sure to advise her to suggest Hela check her own accounts. It wasn’t long before Lady Vivienne was escorted from the palace in disgrace.

Thor’s reaction to Lord Cyril’s involvement in stealing from Lady Cyan was nothing short of fury. He dismissed Cyril immediately, along with the maid Kelly, their reputations shattered beyond repair. No person of prominence would dare to hire them again.

During these palace changes, I cleverly slipped in a word about the kitchen staff feeding Lady Cyan slop. If anyone should have a personal chef, it was her. Prince Thor did one better, he replaced the entire kitchen staff, ensuring that the finest food was prepared for everyone in the palace. He made it very clear that if anyone was served less than what was expected, they would face the gallows. Since then,Lady Cyan’s figure has filled out, and she looks much healthier, with her own strength returning.

She also found herself a new accountant. Prince Thor and I convinced her not to continue relying on Voss, given his negligence. Instead, I helped her hire a young man named Edric Hale. He seemed sharp, rigid, and incredibly thorough, like someone who wouldn’t let anything slip by unnoticed. And I was right, Edric was so good at his job that he not only fixed inconsistencies within Lady Cyans books but uncovered six more individuals committing fraud under the royal name. It wasn’t long before Voss was removed from his post, and Hale was promoted to Royal Financial Advisor.

Even Prince Thor’s courtier was replaced, as I recommended Sir Alistair Graves during the hiring process.He was tall, unsettling, and mysterious, Alistair's appearance drew questions from Prince Thor and Lady Cyan alike, but Alistair soon proved himself to be an invaluable asset.I was right again.

Surprisingly, Thor and Alistair developed a close bond, despite his eerie demeanor.

After all this, Lady Cyan finally had time to hire her own ladies-in-waiting. To my amusement, Lady Jane and Lady Sharon applied for the position. Needless to say, they weren’t hired. I took personal joy in turning them down during the vetting process. Instead, Lady Cyan appointed Lady Natasha Romanoff and Lady Pepper Potts, both competent and trustworthy. As the wedding drew closer, the palace bustled with preparations, fully ready to receive her as the Crowned Princess of Asgard.

The first time I noticed Queen Freya's distaste for me, it was subtle, a cold glance from across the room as I sat with Lady Cyan during a court gathering. At the time, I thought nothing of it. Surely, a queen had more important matters to concern herself with than a mere lady-in-waiting. But as the weeks passed, it became clear: it wasn’t just a glance,it was a warning.

Every time Lady Cyan made progress, especially with my guidance, Queen Freya's irritation grew more obvious.

I remember standing in the corner of the throne room when Vivienne was escorted out by the guards. Queen Freya had been across the hall, watching. Our eyes met briefly, and in that moment, I saw a flash of something, annoyance, perhaps even hatred. I had facilitated that firing, and she knew it.

Later, as I escorted Lady Cyan from the council room, the Queen called out to me, her voice smooth as velvet but sharp as a blade.

"Lady Honey," she began, forcing me to turn back. "You've done such a... thorough job cleaning up the mess around the palace." The way she said "thorough" was laced with disdain. "Though, I do wonder, have you left anything for Lady Cyan to do herself?"

I bristled at the remark, but I kept my expression neutral. "Her Highness has made all the decisions. I simply advised her where necessary." I could not allow my mouth to ruin this for me.

The Queen smiled that thin, humorless smile of hers. "Of course. But do be careful. A lady of your... talents should know when to step back. We wouldn’t want to overshadow the future princess, now, would we?"

The words cut deeper than intended. She wasn’t praising me. She was warning me. I was doing too much, and that didn’t sit well with her.

As Lady Cyan continued to gain confidence, Freya’s hostility grew. When Thor replaced the kitchen staff, I could see the Queen’s patience slipping further. I once overheard her speaking to Hela’s remaining ladies-in-waiting about how “some people simply don’t know their place” as I passed through the halls. I had no doubt she was referring to me.

It all came to a head during one of our morning meetings. I was assisting Cyan with the latest preparations for her upcoming wedding, ensuring all the details were perfect, when Queen Freya entered the room, her presence like a sudden frost in the air.

"Lady Honey," she addressed me without looking directly at Cyan. "It seems you’ve become quite indispensable. How fortunate for Lady Cyan."

I curtsied, though my stomach twisted. I knew what was coming.

"You've certainly made an impression," she continued, her voice sharp, "but one wonders if you've made the right kind."

There was no mistake in her meaning. I had been far too effective in my role, far too supportive of Cyan. Queen Freya wasn’t just irritated anymore, she was furious.

Unfortunately, during all of this, I had to deal with Prince Loki breathing down my neck. He insisted on my company far too often, even intruding on Lady Cyan’s morning teas, meant for us to go over her itinerary. He was relentless.

One morning, after Loki had finally left, opting to go train I couldn’t hold back. “That man is infuriating,” I muttered, still editing the itinerary.

“You mean Prince Loki of Asgard?” Lady Romanoff asked with a smirk.

“Who else?” I replied, shaking my head.

“I think it’s sweet that he’s found interest in you,” Lady Potts chimed in, her words slightly tentative. “And, well, at least you’d know your future is secure if you married him.” She was prone to putting her foot in her mouth without realizing it.

I gave her a sharp look but let it pass. “Did you manage to find a venue for the next royal tea party?”

“Oh, right,” she said, quickly handing me a sheet of paper. “Here’s the list of available venues for the date we need. I’ve marked the ones that would be most appropriate.”

Despite her occasional blunders, Potts was excellent at her job. I could always count on her efficiency.

With new ladies-in-waiting and the right servants, Lady Cyan was finally surrounded by a supportive circle. Her transformation was undeniable, and I was proud to have played a role in it.

Lady Cyan’s soft voice broke my thoughts. “Would it be so wrong to consider Prince Loki?”

I nearly scoffed. “If I were interested, perhaps it wouldn’t be.”

“I think you should give him a chance,” she suggested, her large doe eyes gazing at me earnestly.

I sighed. I was ready to dismiss the notion entirely, but those eyes… “I’ll think about it,” I conceded, though the thought made me cringe inwardly.

“That’s all I ask,” Cyan said with a sweet smile.

I shook my head, standing up. “I’ll be back. I need to confirm a few numbers with Edric.” I made my way to the door, hearing the giggles of the other ladies as I left the room.

It took a tremendous amount of work, but for the first time, I felt I had done right by Lady Cyan. She had a proper support system now, and she was ready to step into her role as Crowned Princess of Asgard.

As I walked down the palace halls toward accounting, my footsteps slowed as I passed the training grounds. There, shirtless and glistening with sweat, was Prince Loki, sparring with one of the knights. His lean, muscular form moved with precision, and I begrudgingly admitted to myself, yes, Prince Loki was a very handsome man. But he was oh so arrogant.

Not to mention, something about him made me uncomfortable, a discomfort I couldn’t quite shake. It was the same feeling I got around Duke Bruce and, on occasion, even Prince Thor. Maybe it had something to do with their high positions of power or the way they carried themselves with an air of control. Whatever it was, I had no interest in exploring it further.

Before I could turn away, I caught Loki’s eye. His gaze locked onto mine, and a sly smirk spread across his face as he waved. My heart skipped a beat, but not from admiration, it was more like a warning bell. I quickly dispersed, pretending not to notice, and rushed down the corridor toward Lord Hale’s office.

After finishing my business with Lord Hale, I made my way back to Lady Cyan’s chambers, feeling a sense of relief that the conversation had gone smoothly. But midway through my return, I found myself stopped by none other than Loki himself.

“May I help you, Prince Loki?” I asked stiffly, my posture rigid as I forced myself to remain composed.

A playful grin adorned his face, and his tone was laced with flirtation. “Oh, nothing in particular, just wanting to chat with the pretty girl who’s managed to turn the palace upside down.”

I straightened my spine. “You mean right side up,” I corrected coolly.

Prince Loki chuckled, a sound that seemed to vibrate in the air between us. “Well, regardless. Tonight, I’m headed to a gathering. A close friend of mine is planning to ask for a woman’s hand in marriage. Quite the event.And I was wondering if you’d like to attend” he pushes a lock of my hair behind my shoulder. “With me.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to attend,” I replied curtly. “I have a gathering of my own tonight.”

He chuckled again,as if he had some kind of secret,  clearly entertained by my formality. “Well, shoot. I’m sure we’ll find a way to get together sometime.”

I forced a polite smile. “Of course.” I curtsied briefly, making it clear the conversation was over, and headed back to Lady Cyan’s chambers, the unsettling feeling from earlier creeping back into my chest.

“Do you want me to say something?” I’d asked her multiple times, my voice filled with the urge to protect her, but she always refused, her shy voice barely more than a whisper.

“I don’t want to cause trouble,” she’d insist, and despite my frustration, I respected her decision. So tonight, as always, I played the role of silent protector, standing close to her, watching her every move, and his.

The party was filled with the usual noble chatter and laughter, but I found no comfort in it. Saffron’s uneasy smile, her fidgeting hands, and Duke Bruce’s ever-watchful eyes were the only things I could focus on.

I was lost in my thoughts when I felt someone brush close behind me, their breath warm against my ear. “Hello, Honey.”

I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.Prince Loki. Of course. His voice carried that teasing edge, filled with amusement and arrogance, as if this was all a game to him.

I glanced over my shoulder, my irritation barely concealed. “Are you following me, Prince Loki?” I asked, my voice sharper than intended.

He chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on me as though he found the situation endlessly entertaining. “Following you? No, darling, I’m here for a special moment.”

I raised an eyebrow, feeling the knot in my stomach tighten. “And what moment might that be?” I asked, my words clipped.

His smirk widened as he casually nodded toward the center of the room. “That one,” he said, his tone dripping with satisfaction.

I followed his gaze and froze. My heart sank as I saw Duke Bruce Banner on one knee, proposing to Saffron in front of the entire room. She stood there, pale and trembling, but with all eyes on her, there was no way out. Her lips moved in slow motion, forming the dreaded word. “Yes.”

Applause filled the room as the crowd celebrated the engagement, toasting to their future. Saffron’s eyes darted toward me, wide with panic, but all I could do was stare, powerless to stop what was happening.

Loki leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “Congratulations on your sister’s engagement,” he said, his smirk still playing at the corners of his mouth. “It seems Duke Banner will soon be family.”

I turned to him, my jaw tight with barely concealed rage. “You knew this was going to happen.”

“Of course,” he replied smoothly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Bruce is a close friend of mine. He’s been planning this for some time.”

I swallowed my anger, trying to keep my composure as I watched Saffron, my heart aching for her. Loki’s smug smile felt like salt in the wound. “Enjoy your evening, Lady Honey,” he added, his tone mocking. “I’m sure there will be more surprises to come.”

With that, he walked away, leaving me standing there, helpless as my sister’s fate was sealed before my eyes.

The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of stress and unanswered questions. Saffron’s engagement to Duke Banner weighed heavily on my mind, though she insisted everything was fine. I knew better. Every night she would come to me, her face tight with worry, sharing how uncomfortable everything made her feel. I’d offered her an out, told her we could make a formal request to call off the engagement, but she refused. She was too afraid of disappointing our parents, especially our mother.

“Everything will be fine,” she’d said with that fragile, hopeful look in her eyes. It made me furious, but I couldn’t force her hand. All I could do was stand by her, ready to step in if things went too far.

And then there was Lady Cyan. Rumors had spread quickly about her being ill, though I had my doubts. Something about it felt... off. The palace was rife with gossip, and yet Prince Thor, always the picture of calm, didn’t seem fazed. If anything, he appeared more focused than ever.

My attempts to see her had been blocked at every turn. Alistair, ever the watchful guard, was always there, standing between me and the answers I sought. A time where I’d tried to visit her, I was met with him stepping out of her chambers just as I approached. It was almost as if he’d been waiting for me.

“Lady Cyan is resting,” he’d said, his tone polite but firm. His cold, calculating eyes met mine without so much as a flicker of guilt. I couldn’t stand how easily he lied to my face. "She needs her privacy."

“She’s been resting for weeks,” I shot back, frustration bubbling in my chest. “Surely she could spare a moment?”

Alistair didn’t blink, didn’t falter. “Her health is delicate. If you truly care for her well-being, you'll give her time.”

His words were a steel wall, and I had no choice but to retreat, fuming. But I didn’t stop trying. Each day, I attempted to get close, whether it was checking in through the maids or attempting another visit myself,but Alistair was always there, standing guard like some immovable sentry.

Pepper and Natasha told me to let it go, that if Prince Thor said she was unwell, it was best to leave it at that. But I couldn’t. Something in my gut told me that there was more to it. And as the days passed, that gnawing suspicion only grew stronger.

It didn’t help that Loki seemed intent on feeding into my doubts, though his information came in small, tantalizing pieces. Each time we crossed paths, he would drop a hint, a little morsel of knowledge that made my curiosity burn brighter. He never gave me the full picture, just enough to keep me coming back for more.

I had just finished reviewing some paperwork with Edric when I stepped out into the hallway. Prince Loki was there, casually leaning against the wall like he had all the time in the world. His eyes immediately found mine, that familiar smirk playing on his lips.

“Lady Honey,” he greeted, his tone smooth. “Busy day?”

“Always,” I muttered, not in the mood for small talk. “Do you need something?”

He pushed off the wall, sauntering over to me, his presence impossible to ignore. “Not at all. Just curious how Lady Cyan is faring.” His voice dropped ever so slightly, hinting at something beneath the surface.

I stiffened, trying to mask my surprise. “She’s unwell, or so I’ve been told,” I replied carefully, eyeing him. “You would know that if you bothered to ask.”

Prince Loki chuckled softly, his hand reaching out to grab my chin. “Oh, I ask plenty of questions, my dear. Just not to the right people, apparently.” His touch lingered longer than necessary, and before I could say anything, he stepped back with a knowing smile. “Keep an eye on her,” he added, his tone soft but carrying weight.

Before I could respond, he was already walking away, leaving me with more questions than answers.

Days had passed, and Prince Loki’s cryptic comments continued to nag at me. I was heading down the palace corridor, lost in thought, when I felt a sudden arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a side embrace. Prince Loki again.

“You always seem so tense, Lady Honey,” he teased, his voice close to my ear. “What has you so worked up this time?”

I tried to wriggle free, but he held me firmly in place, his warmth both irritating and oddly comforting. “Prince Loki, I have work to do,” I grumbled. “This isn’t the time.”

He laughed, his grip loosening but not completely letting go. “Is it ever? You’re always working, always investigating. I wonder... what would you do if you found something you weren’t supposed to?”

I stilled at his words, the weight of them sinking in. He knew something. “What are you implying?”

He smiled down at me, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Let’s just say... not everyone in the palace is who they seem. Keep digging, and you might be surprised at what you find.”

I pulled away from him, trying to regain my composure. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re delightful,” he replied with a wink before walking off, leaving me even more frustrated than before.

I was pouring over documents late one evening when Prince Loki appeared out of nowhere, his presence once again unsettling but familiar. He stood behind me, his hand lightly resting on my back as he leaned in.

“Still working, I see,” he murmured. “Do you ever rest?”

I tensed at the closeness, but his hand was gentle, not imposing. “Someone has to do the work around here,” I replied dryly, not looking up.

“Hmm,” he mused, his fingers lightly tracing down my spine before lifting away. “Perhaps. Or perhaps you’re just looking for something you shouldn’t be finding.”

I turned to face him, narrowing my eyes. “Are you ever going to just tell me what you know, or are you going to keep playing these games?”

Loki smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Where’s the fun in that, my dear? Sometimes, the best discoveries are made through patience... and persistence.”

Before I could respond, he was gone again, leaving only the faint warmth where his hand had been. 

I stormed through the palace halls, my frustration building with every step. This was the fourth time I’d been turned away from seeing Lady Cyan, and I wasn’t about to let Alistair dismiss me again. My pulse quickened as I approached her chambers, my mind already preparing for a confrontation.

As soon as I reached the door, there he was, Alistair, standing outside with his arms crossed, as if he were waiting for me. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but I could see the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“Move aside,” I said sharply, not caring how harsh I sounded. “I’m seeing Lady Cyan whether you like it or not.”

Alistair didn’t flinch. Instead, he sighed and straightened, blocking the entrance with his large frame. “Young One,” he began in that infuriatingly calm voice, “how many times must we go through this? Lady Cyan is ill, and Prince Thor is taking excellent care of her.”

“That’s nonsense,” I snapped, my frustration boiling over. “Every time I’ve tried to see her, it’s been the same excuse. Do you think I’m some fool who will just let it go because you keep repeating the same thing? Lady Cyan hasn’t been seen for days!”

His gaze didn’t waver. “And she won’t be seen until she’s recovered. Now, go back to your duties.”

I clenched my fists, anger bubbling in my chest. “I’m not a child, Alistair! Don’t treat me like one just because you don’t have the decency to tell me what’s actually going on. You think I’m blind to what’s happening?”

Alistair stared at me, unfazed by my outburst. Then, to my utter fury, he reached out and gently patted me on the head, as if I were some bothersome child. “Young One,” he said, a hint of condescension in his tone, “you should focus on your own work and let Prince Thor handle LadCyan. You’re only going to exhaust yourself meddling in things you don’t understand.”

I slapped his hand away, my blood boiling at the insult. “You can’t keep me away from her forever, Alistair.”

He merely shrugged, unfazed. “Perhaps not, but for now, you should go. I won’t tell you again.”

My teeth ground together, but I knew I couldn’t push him further without making a scene. I had no choice but to turn around and leave, but the fire of frustration burned deep in my chest. I wasn’t going to let this go, not by a long shot.

As I walked away, I could still feel Alistair’s patronizing pat on my head, and it only fueled my determination. Something was wrong, and I was going to find out what.

The royal wedding was only a few days away, and I’d reached my breaking point. The palace had become a den of whispers and secrets, and it seemed that the closer we got to the wedding, the more the air thickened with lies. I had tried everything, pushing past Alistair, confronting Prince Thor’s other courtiers, even pleading with Lady Natasha and Lady Pepper to help me get to LadyCyan. But all paths led to closed doors.

And Prince Loki  with his cryptic words, his teasing smiles, and half-baked hints. I couldn’t take it anymore.

I stormed through the palace halls, not caring who saw me. My feet led me to the Royal Garden, where I knew he’d be. He always found some quiet corner to lounge in, away from the royal duties he couldn’t be bothered with. Sure enough, there he was, seated by the fountain, leaning back like a man without a care in the world. He hadn’t seen me yet, his eyes closed, hands resting in his lap.

“Prince Loki!” I hissed, my voice cutting through the peaceful evening air. His eyes snapped open, a smirk already curling his lips as he straightened, watching me approach.

“Well, well, Lady Honey. I was wondering when you’d come seeking my company,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. He pushed off the edge of the fountain and stood, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “What brings you to me so... heatedly?”

“I’ve had enough of your games,” I spat, my fists clenched at my sides. “Tell me what’s going on with Lady Cyan.”

His smirk deepened, and he took a few slow steps toward me. “And what makes you think I’ll just give you the answers you seek?”

“Because you know something!” I shouted, unable to contain my frustration. “You’ve been dropping hints for weeks, playing with me like a cat with a mouse, and I’m done! I need to know what’s happening to her!”

Prince Loki raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by my outburst. He circled me slowly, as if appraising me. “Oh, my dear Lady Honey, I do know many things. But nothing comes for free in this world.”

I turned to face him, my heart pounding in my chest. “What do you want?”

He stopped in front of me, his gaze locked on mine, intense and unwavering. “A kiss.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“A kiss,” he repeated, his voice low and velvety. “Give me one, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

I stared at him, stunned. This was a new game. A dangerous one. “You’re joking.”

His eyes darkened, and the smirk on his face faded slightly, replaced with something more... possessive. “I never, Lady Honey.”

I hesitated, my mind racing. A kiss? For information? It felt wrong. But I had to know. I needed to understand what was happening, why Cyan had suddenly vanished behind locked doors, why everyone was pretending everything was fine.

With reluctance weighing heavily on me, I nodded. “Fine.”

Loki’s smirk returned, but this time it was darker, more victorious. Before I could even prepare myself, he stepped forward, his hand snaking around my waist and pulling me against him. His grip was firm, and the heat of his body was overwhelming. He didn’t hesitate , his lips crashed down on mine, strong and possessive, swallowing my breath. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was raw, and claiming. His hand moved to the small of my back, pulling me even closer, while his other hand gripped my neck, tilting my head to deepen the kiss.

I gasped against his mouth, but he didn’t relent. His fingers dug into my waist, his body pressing me tightly against him as if he couldn’t bear to let me go. His lips moved with a fierceness that stole the air from my lungs, and when I tried to pull back, his grip tightened, holding me in place.

The kiss grew rougher, more demanding. His hand slid from my waist to my hip, his fingers brushing dangerously close to my thigh. He groped me as if I were his to take, his hold possessive, his body commanding.

My mind screamed at me to push him away, but my body was paralyzed. My heart pounded in my chest, a mixture of fear and something else , something I didn’t want to name. His lips moved over mine, devouring me, until I was left breathless, gasping against him.

When he finally pulled back, I was dizzy, my knees weak. I could hardly catch my breath as I stared up at him, my lips swollen, my body trembling from the intensity of it all. He looked down at me, his eyes dark and hungry, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

“Well, Lady Honey,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “A deal’s a deal.”

I tried to steady my breathing, still reeling from the kiss. “Tell me,” I whispered, my voice shaking.

But Loki didn’t move away. Instead, he stayed close, his hand still firmly gripping my waist. He tilted his head slightly, brushing his nose against mine in an almost affectionate manner, a contrast to the possessive way he had kissed me moments earlier.

He pressed his lips softly to my forehead, lingering for a moment as his breath fanned over my skin. “Thor has been spending a lot of time with Cyan,” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. “Alone. Uninterrupted. But she’s not ill. Not at all.”

His hand slid lower, caressing my side as he spoke, his lips brushing against my hair. “They’ve been keeping her in her chambers, but it’s not for the reasons you think.”

I pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him. “Then why?” I asked, my voice trembling.

Loki’s grip tightened for a moment, his eyes locking with mine. “Because she’s trapped, just like you, little honeybee. Thor has no intention of letting her go.”

I stared at him, a sinking feeling of dread filling my stomach.

The day after my tense encounter with Loki, I finally managed to see Lady Cyan. She was glowing, radiant even, but her expression, her eyes, told a different story. As soon as I laid eyes on her, I rushed forward and embraced her tightly.

“Are you alright?” I asked, my voice low, laced with concern.

Pepper and Natasha, standing nearby with knowing smiles, seemed to think my worry was misplaced. “Honey, had been worried sick about you,” Natasha said, her tone light, almost dismissive of the tension that clung to me. It was as if they were brushing off the entire ordeal.

“I’m fine,” Lady Cyan answered, but her eyes,they were haunted. Despite her soft smile, there was a sadness there that pulled at my chest.

I nodded, but I didn’t believe her. Something was wrong, and as the days leading up to the wedding crept by, I tried to coax her into talking. She remained tight-lipped, her melancholy growing more apparent, but she wouldn’t say a word.

Prince Loki, who had been dropping hints and playing his games, was nowhere to be found during this time. It should have unsettled me, but I was too focused on Lady Cyan to care.

Then, the day of the royal wedding arrived. It was the grandest affair Asgard had ever seen, extravagant, dazzling, and utterly flawless in its execution. Everyone was there, dressed to the nines, and the entire kingdom celebrated the union of Crown Prince Thor and Princess Cyan.

But then, during the reception, Princess Cyan disappeared.

I knew where to find her.

I followed my instincts, weaving my way through the palace grounds until I reached the Royal Forest. There, in the center of the garden, was a bench where she sat, her face buried in her hands as she sobbed uncontrollably.

“Princess Cyan?” I whispered as I approached. She looked up at me, her eyes red, streaked with tears.

Without a word, I sat beside her, wrapping my arms around her trembling frame. “What’s wrong?” I asked gently, stroking her hair as she cried.This was meant to be the happiest day of her life. Or so I’ve heard.

She sniffled, wiping her eyes as she extended her hand. “Do you know what this is?” she asked, showing me her wedding ring.

I frowned. “It’s your wedding ring, of course.”

She shook her head, her hand trembling. “No, Honey, it’s a Vowthorn.”

Confusion filled me as I studied the ring more closely. My blood ran cold as I saw it—tiny thorns lining the underside, almost imperceptible unless you looked carefully.

“What do you mean?”

She sniffled again, and before I could stop her, she tugged at the ring. To my horror, pieces of her skin began to tear as she tried to remove it. Blood welled at the edges, and I quickly grabbed her hand to stop her. “Princess Cyan, stop!” I cried, my heart pounding.

“I can never take it off,” she whispered, her voice broken. “I’m bound to him, Honey. Forever.”

My eyes widened as I stared at her bloody finger, my stomach churning with revulsion. The thorns had sunk into her flesh, marking her, chaining her to Prince Thor in a way far crueler than I could have imagined.

“Princess Cyan.”

Alistair’s voice broke through the moment, his presence looming as he stepped out from the shadows of the trees. “Your husband is looking for you,” he said calmly, as if nothing was amiss.

Princess Cyan wiped her eyes, standing slowly as she gave me one last, heart-wrenching hug. “Thank you for everything,” she whispered, her voice hollow.

I held her tightly for a moment before releasing her, watching helplessly as she walked toward Alistair. He smiled, cold, knowing, and I could only stand there, frozen, as he gently escorted her back to the party.

I felt my heart twist, anger simmering beneath the surface.

“Do you understand now?”

Prince Loki had emerged from the shadows, lurking like the serpent he always was. I didn’t bother looking at him, my gaze still fixed on the spot where Cyan had disappeared, her broken form haunting my thoughts.

If I were being honest, I didn’t fully understand. Not yet. But there was one thing I was almost certain of.

“He’s harming her,” I said aloud, unable to shake the memory of her fear, the wedding ring that tore into her skin when she dared to remove it. “But why? I thought he loved her.”

Loki’s laugh was sharp, cutting through the stillness of the forest. It grated on my nerves, and I finally turned to stare at him. “What’s so funny?”

He stepped closer, his smirk both infuriating and dangerous. “Hardly harming her,” he corrected, his tone dripping with amusement. “There may be a bit of pain involved, yes... but the pleasure, from what I’ve heard, is immaculate.” His voice deepens

I rolled my eyes, my patience thinning. “What in gods’ name are you babbling about, Loki?”

He chuckled darkly, as if I were some naïve child. “Thor is playing a different game, Honey. One where control is disguised as love, and desire is wrapped in thorns. You see, your dear crowned prince has no intention of letting his bride go. Not ever.”

My stomach twisted. "That doesn't explain the ring. The pain."

Prince Loki's gaze softened, almost mockingly. “Ah, but pain and pleasure often intertwine. Thor’s made sure she feels both, he wants her to be bound to him in every way. The ring, the restrictions, they serve a purpose beyond mere possession. It’s a reminder. That no matter how much she may try to escape, she’ll always come back to him.”

I clenched my fists, anger rising in me like a tide. "You're saying he's... manipulating her into staying?"

"Isn't that what marriage often is?" Loki raised an eyebrow, his voice deceptively light. He moved closer, until the heat of his body was almost touching mine. "But don’t think of it as cruelty. In Thor’s eyes, it’s love. Just a... particular kind."

I felt sick. "And you? Do you condone it?"

Prince Loki leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. “I don’t condone or condemn. I observe. And I act when it suits me.” He paused, his voice lowering to a whisper. "As I’ve been observing you."

A shiver ran down my spine. His presence, his words, it was all too much. I stepped back, trying to put distance between us, but Loki only smirked, as if he enjoyed seeing me unsettled.

He gestured toward the path Princess Cyan and Alistair had taken. “If you really want to know what’s happening, you’re asking the wrong questions. Thor loves her, yes, but his love is one that consumes, one that binds. Just like the ring on her finger.” His eyes gleamed. "The real question is, how far will he go to keep her?"

Before I could even think of leaving,Prince Loki’s slender fingers grab around my neck, his grip deceptively strong. He yanked me closer, so close that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek, his body pressing against mine in a way that made my stomach churn with both fear and an unexpected flicker of something else, something I didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Now, then,” Loki whispered in a voice as smooth as velvet, his lips barely brushing my ear. “I think I’ve waited long enough.”

“Let go of me!” I demanded, my voice shaking but defiant as I pushed against his chest, trying to create distance. But it was no use, he barely moves, his frame lean yet unyielding as if carved from stone.

“Now, now, little Honey,” he purred, his tone dripping with a sick sort of amusement. “You’ve been so curious about what’s happening to sweet Cyan... I think it’s only fair I show you ”

His lips descended on mine with a force that took my breath away. I gasped, my body instinctively tensing at the sudden invasion. His mouth claimed mine without hesitation, his kiss demanding, harsh, and unforgiving.

My hands pressed against his chest, trying to create some distance between us, but it was futile. Loki was everywhere. His fingers gripped my waist tightly, pulling me closer as though he intended to merge us into one being. His other hand roamed, sliding down my back, groping and kneading as if he were staking his claim.

The heat of his body was overwhelming, and I could feel his fingers curling into the fabric of my gown, tugging me impossibly closer. His lips moved against mine, rough and unrelenting, his tongue sweeping into my mouth with a dominance that made my knees buckle.

"L-Loki—" I tried to speak, to push him away, but my voice was swallowed by the intensity of the kiss. He groaned against my lips, his hand trailing lower, grabbing my hip and squeezing with enough force to make me gasp.

"Shh," he whispered, his lips brushing mine in a cruel mockery of tenderness. "You’ve wanted this, Honey. Don’t pretend otherwise."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, but before I could respond, his mouth was back on mine, stealing my breath once more. His hands slid down to my backside, gripping and pulling me against him in a way that left no space between us. I could feel every inch of him, his body pressed tightly to mine as if he couldn’t bear to let me go.

His lips left mine only to trail down the side of my neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along my skin. I whimpered as he nipped at my collarbone, his teeth grazing my flesh just enough to send a bolt of heat through me.

"You’re mine now," he growled against my skin, his voice low and possessive. "Don’t think for a second you can escape me."

His hands roamed freely, tracing the curve of my waist, the swell of my hips, and the dip of my back. His touch was rough, insistent, as though he was marking me with every stroke of his fingers. My heart pounded in my chest, a mixture of fear, and confusion

I've never done anything like this before, I’ve never been exposed to anything like this before. For the first time in my life, I feared what would happened next.

Loki's grip tightened, his hands digging into my flesh as if daring me to try and escape. But there was no escape. Not from him. Not from this.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark, filled with an intensity that made me want to run and hide. His thumb traced the line of my jaw as he smirked down at me, his lips swollen from the kiss.

He shoved me hard, sending me crashing to the ground. My head smacked against the cold earth, a sharp pain shooting through my skull as the world spun for a moment.

Using my confusion as an opportunity, Loki climbed on top of me, forcibly lifting my skirts and ripping apart my undergarments.

“Wait” I called out “Loki! Please! No!” my pleas falling on deaf ears as I heard and felt him shuffle about.

I tried to get up, but this only caused Loki to grab my neck once more, shoving my head back into the ground. The pressure on my neck causing me to still.

All at once, I feel a searing pain in my nether regions, and Loki growls with what I can only assume is pleasure. I begin digging my nails into his arm and dragging them down. Tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

The anguish squeezing every bit of breath I had in my body.

He takes one look at my face, at the agony and discomfort he was causing, and he laughed loudly.

“You are a virgin?” he asks, shock laced into his voice.

I swallow, whimpers escape me as I try to breathe through the torment.

“And you worry about the whore?”

He begins moving his body against mine the pain sharp, and persistent, a deep, stretching discomfort catching me off guard. Distress overtaking me as tears fell down my face. It felt as if a fresh wound had been torn open, and he was mercilessly digging into it, over and over, each movement sending waves of torment through me.

A pressure that started small but grew with every motion, my muscles tensing instinctively. It wasn’t just the physical sting; there was an emotional weight behind it too. A feeling of vulnerability, of crossing a threshold I could never return from. It was unbearable, and far from pleasant, a blend of confusion and distress mixed with the ache.

With every grunt and growl Loki worked to steal away my innocence. I became tired, my arms dropped to my side as I allowed him what he wanted. I still cried to myself wondering when this would be over.

He removed his hand from my neck, planting both firmly on to the ground as he worked to move faster. Finally, just when I felt that I could take no more he lets out a final roar pushing himself as deep as he could inside me, causing me to cry out in pain,before collapsing on my worn body.

"See?" he whispered, his voice a low growl. "I told you, Honey. You’re mine."

I stared up at him, panting, my mind still spinning from the events that occurred.

He stood, fixing himself before leaving me on the ground with a chuckle.

I had never felt so ashamed, to allow something so awful to happen to me. I move into a fetal position, wondering where I went wrong.

Afterwards when Prince Loki stood up and fixed his garments I chose to lay on the ground for what felt like hours, my body aching, my mind swirling in the haze of disbelief. Used, humiliated, and utterly broken, I could hardly muster the strength to move. The cool earth beneath me felt foreign, much like the shell of my own body. I wanted to scream, to cry, but the exhaustion and shame anchored me to the ground.

Eventually, reality clawed its way back in. I still had to go home. As battered as I was, I couldn’t allow myself to be found like this. I still had my family’s dignity to uphold, fragile though it was. I closed my eyes, forcing myself to block out the vile memories of what had just happened. Loki's touch lingered on my skin, searing like a brand I’d never erase. But I had to get up. I had no choice.

With trembling arms, I pushed myself off the cold ground. Every movement sent a fresh wave of soreness through my body. My dress was filthy, covered in dirt and torn in places. My hair, usually so neatly kept, hung in tangled clumps around my face. I wiped at my cheeks, but the tears had long since dried. I felt like a ghost of the woman I was when I arrived.

My legs shook as I took one step, then another. My body protested, but I bit back the groan of agony and pressed on. I couldn’t afford to be found here. Not like this.

It was a miracle no one had come across me. The palace grounds had plenty of hidden corners, but in this state, I felt exposed, vulnerable. With every faltering step, I felt the weight of what had been stolen from me. I was no longer Honey Duval, the thorny, snarky daughter of a struggling Baroness. I had become something else entirely.

After what seemed like an eternity, I reached the entrance of the palace. There were still people milling about, blissfully unaware of the turmoil that raged inside me. I kept my head low, pulling my ruined dress around me to hide the worst of the damage. I prayed that no one would take a second look, that no one would notice the way I limped toward the line of carriages.

I spotted an empty one, its driver standing idly by. I approached him as steadily as I could, my voice a ragged whisper as I asked, “Take me home.”

The driver, with barely a glance, helped me inside, and I sank into the seat, every muscle in my body screaming for rest. The door shut, and with the soft lurch of the carriage, I felt myself collapse inward.

I managed to stumble my way through the door without a soul in sight. The house was still and quiet, no sign of my family. Of course, they were all still at the wedding. My parents, Saffron, even Bruce, none of them would have noticed I was missing yet. That gave me some relief, though it was fleeting.

The servants had long retired to their quarters for the night. There was no one to see me in this state, no judgmental eyes to pry at my disheveled hair and filthy gown. I was grateful for the emptiness of the estate.

I moved quietly through the halls, each step painful, my body still aching from the night’s cruelty. When I finally reached my room, I shut the door behind me, leaning my back against it and letting out a ragged breath. My legs gave out from under me, and I slid to the floor, my dress pooling around me in a tattered mess.

I could still feel Loki’s hands on me, the weight of his body, his mocking smile as he took everything I had left. A fresh wave of nausea rolled over me, and I pressed a hand to my mouth, fighting back the bile that threatened to rise.

I was falling apart.

With shaking hands, I dragged myself to the mirror, catching sight of the wreck I had become. My eyes hollow, my hair tangled and dirty, my dress in ruins. I could barely recognize myself.

I stripped off my ruined dress, letting it fall to the floor in a heap. Every inch of my body ached, bruises I hadn’t noticed earlier now flaring with every movement. My mind was clouded with the horrors of what had transpired, but I knew one thing,I needed to wash it all away.

The bathwater was scalding as I stepped in, but I didn’t care. I welcomed the heat, letting it burn my skin, hoping it could sear away the filth that clung to me. I grabbed the soap and scrubbed harder than I ever had before. I scrubbed until my skin felt raw, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t rid myself of the feeling of his hands, his breath on my neck, the unbearable weight of him.

Loki’s sins clung to me like a second skin, and no amount of scrubbing could make them disappear.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and this time I couldn’t stop them. They fell silently, mixing with the water, but I didn’t make a sound. I couldn’t. I couldn’t let this break me—not yet. I had to keep going. I had to find a way to survive.

After what felt like an eternity, I dragged myself out of the tub, my skin tender and sore. I wrapped myself in a towel, feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling me down, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.

I dressed quickly, slipping into a nightgown, my body trembling with every movement. Each bruise, each ache, was a reminder of what had happened, of what I had endured.

Finally, I collapsed onto the bed, pulling the sheets around me as tightly as I could. I wanted to disappear, to become invisible, but the memories wouldn’t let me. They played over and over in my mind, tormenting me, reminding me that I was no longer the person I had been just hours before.

As the night deepened, I lay there in silence, staring at the ceiling, my body too heavy to move, my mind too shattered to rest.

The morning after the... incident, I went to work, doing my best to avoid Loki like the plague. Thankfully, he wasn't lurking anywhere near me, but my focus stayed on my work, burying myself in it to ignore the memory of last night.

Princess Cyan was finally available today, but something was off. She was quieter than usual, almost distant, her glow subdued. I glanced around the room, noticing Natasha and Pepper were unusually silent too. The whole room felt heavy, but I was too preoccupied with my work to dwell on it. There were more pressing things to address,or so I thought.

Queen Freya had summoned me.

When the notice arrived, I paused, the paper trembling in my hands. I could feel my pulse quicken, but I kept my composure as I made my way to the Queen’s receiving room. What could she possibly want? Had something else gone wrong?

The air in Queen Freya’s receiving room was as cold and stiff as the Queen herself. I stood quietly, waiting for her to get to the point of summoning me here. She'd been polite enough, making small talk about the weather and my family’s well-being, but her eyes never softened. Not for a moment.

It wasn’t long before she finally sat back in her chair and sighed, an air of finality in her voice. "Honey, you’ve done quite a remarkable job assisting... Princess Cyan." The way she said "Princess" made it sound like an insult rather than a title. "But I'm afraid your services are no longer needed."

I blinked, completely thrown. "Your Majesty, may I ask what I’ve done wrong?"

She folded her hands and looked at me with the kind of smile that never reached her eyes. "It’s not about wrongdoing, per se. But your absence on the night of the wedding was entirely unprofessional. We cannot risk something like that happening again. What if Princess Cyan needed you? You were nowhere to be found."

My heart raced. That night… my time spent with PrincesCyan had been brief before I stumbled upon her secret. I knew better than to mention it. "Your Majesty, I—"

"There’s no need for explanations, dear," she cut me off sharply. "I am well aware that you have been rather... vocal in your support for Princess Cyan. Too vocal, perhaps."

There it was. The truth. Queen Freya’s gaze flickered, revealing the venom she had been holding back. It wasn’t about my absence or my professionalism. This had nothing to do with any potential failure on my part.

"Your service to her has been... commendable," she continued, her tone laced with condescension. "But it’s not what is needed at court. We must think of the future of Asgard, and Princess Cyan’s role. You... would do better to think of your own future outside these palace walls."

I stood there, stunned into silence.

"There are no second chances in court, Honey. You must understand that. You’re dismissed."

It hit me like a blow. All my work, all my effort to support Princess Cyan, to make sure she was respected, treated as she should be, would be undone by a queen who saw her as a blemish. And I was simply collateral.

I gathered myself, curtsying. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

As I walked out of the receiving room, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the power Queen Freya wielded. This wasn’t about professionalism or duty. This was about control.

Mother’s eyes blazed with fury, the air between us crackling with her frustration. I stood there, hands clenched at my sides, trying to steady my breathing, but the storm in her gaze only grew.

"What could you have possibly done?" she spat, pacing in front of me like a lioness ready to strike. "Did you offend someone again? Oh, did you open your big mouth to the wrong person this time?"

I flinched at her words, though I knew better than to respond too quickly. I kept my head down, my eyes tracing the intricate patterns on the rug beneath my feet, as if I could disappear into the floor. Her accusations, though harsh, were nothing new.

She stopped pacing, turning to me with that piercing look that always left me feeling smaller than I was. "Speak, Honey. What have you done? You must have done something, or you wouldn’t have been fired as Princess Cyan’s lady-in-waiting! So what was it?"

I stayed silent, my throat tight with the truth I couldn’t say. She wouldn’t understand, not now, not ever. And even if I told her everything, how would I explain Loki?

Her voice broke through my thoughts, sharp and biting. "Answer me!" she demanded. "Do you know what you’ve caused? To be dismissed from court like some common servant, disgraceful! You’ve brought shame upon this family."

I swallowed, the words heavy on my tongue, but none of them would make a difference. My mother was looking for someone to blame, and I was the easiest target.

Her gaze darkened, filled with suspicion. “So you’ve nothing to say? No defense for yourself?”

I shook my head. "No, Mother. Nothing."

For a moment, silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken accusations. She crossed her arms, looking me up and down as if searching for some clue, some evidence of the disgrace I’d caused.

Her lips curled into a sneer

It was another day of being reprimanded by her. But this time, it stung more than usual. Saffron wasn’t here to soften the blow, to offer that silent comfort only a sister could. No, she was off with Bruce’s mother, going over preparations for her own wedding, blissfully unaware of the disaster that had become my life.

I stood there, feeling the weight of my mother’s words, the shame and frustration building up like a dam about to break. Tears welled in my eyes, but I bit them back. Could I even tell her what had really happened? Could I tell her about Loki, about the things that I didn’t even want to think about, let alone speak aloud?

"Answer me, Honey!" my mother snapped, her impatience rising.

I couldn’t. I couldn’t take it anymore. Without another word, I rushed past her, ignoring the startled look on her face. I needed to get away, to hide. I fled to my room, slamming the door behind me as the tears finally broke free.

I didn’t want to see anyone. I didn’t want to hear anyone. I didn’t know what I wanted, but it certainly wasn’t this. This life, this shame, this pain,I couldn’t bear it.

I curled up on my bed, hugging my knees to my chest, wishing for everything to just disappear.

Weeks had passed, and I was growing weaker with each day. 

I stayed silent. Lying in bed, withering away, my body betraying me as much as my mind. What could I possibly say? What could my family do if I did tell them? Loki was the Prince of Asgard, untouchable by anyone in our position. And with Saffron dealing with her own issues with the Duke, I couldn’t add more burden to the family.

From what I knew, Saffron wanted to delay the wedding—push it back a year or two, give them time to get to know each other better. But The Duke refused, insisting that he could hardly wait the few days left until they were to be married. The fear in Saffron’s eyes was clear as day. She was terrified, but with me having been fired from the palace, she felt like she had no other choice. Bruce was our only hope of pulling the Duvals out of the pit of "nonexistence," as my mother had begun to call it.

I tried to tell Saffron that she always had a choice, that there was another way, but she wouldn’t listen. The weight of saving the family seemed to matter more to her than saving herself.

We were walking through the Duval garden when I could feel my body rebelling again. Saffron had convinced me that fresh air might do me good, that perhaps I was simply exhausted from being cooped up for so long. But I felt nauseous, my head swimming. Eventually, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I leaned over, vomiting into the bushes, and before I knew it, everything went black.

When I woke, I was surrounded by my family. Saffron, my father, and my mother, along with a doctor who was wiping his hands clean on a cloth. My mother was hovering over me, panicked, her voice shrill as she called my name. My father stood by, trying to calm her down, while Saffron sat silently at the edge of the bed, her face pale.

"She's awake," my father sighed in relief.

I blinked, trying to shake the fog from my mind. "What happened?" My voice was weak, barely above a whisper.

The doctor cleared his throat, stepping forward. "You've fainted, Lady Honey, but you're alright now. However, there’s something else... You’re with child.”

The words hit me like a boulder.

"That’s impossible," I muttered, though deep down I knew it wasn’t. The memory of Loki’s hands on me flashed in my mind, and I felt my stomach twist.

"I think you know how this happened," the doctor said, his tone professional but laced with an understanding that made the room feel even heavier.

Silence fell, and the air grew thick with tension. My mother was the first to break it, her voice high-pitched with disbelief. "Who is the father? Who have you been with?" Her words came sharp and fast, like a blade cutting through me.

I said nothing. What could I say? How could I explain something I barely had the strength to acknowledge myself?

My father quietly ushered the doctor out of the room, but Saffron remained, her face frozen in shock. She didn’t move. She didn’t say a word.

My mother’s voice rose again, frantic now. "Who is the father, Honey? Answer me!" Her hands grabbed my shoulders, shaking me, but still, I stayed silent.

I couldn’t bring myself to utter Loki’s name. Not now. Not ever.

"If you don’t tell me this instant, I’ll—I’ll..." My mother’s voice cracked, her eyes wild as she searched for something that might break me. She straightened, her face flushed with frustration. "I’ll send you to your Aunt Gertrude."

I blinked, the words settling in the air like an empty threat. Aunt Gertrude. As a child, her name had been synonymous with punishment. The strange spinster, cast aside by the family for reasons never fully explained to me and my sister. I used to shudder at the mere mention of her name, but now... now, the thought of being sent to her estate didn’t stir the same fear it once did.

In fact, I couldn’t remember ever having a true reason to fear Aunt Gertrude. She was an outcast, yes. Blamed for the Duvals’ declining status in society. But what had she really done? No one had ever told me.

Maybe it was because she was different, unconventional, and refused to play the endless games of high society. Or maybe it was because she didn’t fit into the mold my mother had set for the family.

And now, I was beginning to realize... I might not either.

I was much too tired to fight, to resist the weight of my mother’s constant reproach. My head ached, and the room spun slightly as I forced myself to sit up straighter, meeting her gaze. Her threat hung in the air between us, but the words that escaped me were softer than I intended, drained of their sting.

"Then send me," I said, barely above a whisper. "I don’t care anymore."

She recoiled as if I’d struck her. "How dare you," she hissed, eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms. "After all we’ve done for you, after everything our family has sacrificed, this is how you repay us?"

I turned my head, gazing out of the window as she raged. My chest felt hollow, my heart heavy with exhaustion. It wasn’t that I didn’t care, perhaps I cared too much, but what could I do?

She stood abruptly, the anger still palpable in the air between us. "You’ll leave for Gertrude’s after Saffron’s wedding, she will be in attendance, and will take you with her when she leaves" she declared, her voice colder now, resolved. "And don’t expect us to welcome you back anytime soon."

I nodded silently, still looking away. As she left the room, I let out a slow breath, sinking back into the pillows. A strange calm washed over me. The threat of being sent to Aunt Gertrude no longer loomed like it once had.

In fact, the more I thought about it, the less frightening it seemed.

Aunt Gertrude had been cast out for being different, for failing to meet society’s expectations. Maybe, just maybe, I had more in common with her than anyone else in this family.

Saffron looked radiant but terrified. Her eyes darted across the grand hall, her smile faltering every time someone came too close. I should have objected to this marriage, but I couldn't. Not for lack of love or loyalty,no, I simply couldn't find the energy within myself. The truth was, I had no reason to.

On paper, Duke Bruce Banner was everything one could hope for. Powerful, wealthy, and above all else, terrifyingly loyal to Saffron. Since their courtship began, he had proven his devotion in ways that made him seem perfect, like the ideal match for a girl of Saffron’s standing. And with our family’s name teetering on the edge of ruin, he was exactly what she needed. What we all needed.

Mother had remained by my side throughout the day, ensuring that I didn’t cause a scene. Her hands were always just a breath away, offering water, passing sweets, shielding me from questions thrown by fellow relatives. It was the most affectionate she’d ever been, a strange contrast to her usual distant demeanor. Perhaps she feared what the slightest slip would reveal that her daughter carried a secret far more scandalous than a dismissal from court.

My pregnancy was the one secret she seemed determined to protect, at least for now.

I managed to slip away and found Saffron standing alone, staring into the mirror, her smile long gone. Her hands were trembling as she adjusted her veil, and when she saw me, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

“We can run away together, you know?” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the murmurs of guests in the distance.

She looked at me, a sad smile tugging at her lips. "And I know you’re seriously considering that," she said, a soft laugh escaping her. But there was no joy in it, only resignation. “But I can’t, Honey. I can’t abandon my obligations. I don’t have the luxury of running away.”

I nodded, though my heart ached for her. Saffron, my strong-willed sister, had always carried the weight of responsibility on her delicate shoulders, and despite her fear, she would never cast it aside. That was who she was.

She pulled me in close, her breath warm against my cheek. "I’d like to see my little niece or nephew often, though," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "So I expect frequent visits."

I couldn’t help but smile, though tears blurred my vision. "You’ll be the best aunt this child will ever know," I said, meaning every word.

We hugged tightly, holding onto this fleeting moment of peace. It was one of the few moments we’d had where neither of us had to pretend. For just a heartbeat, it was the two of us again,sisters, not trapped by titles or duties, but bound by love.

But we both knew it wouldn’t last. We had already lost, each in our own way.

“Dear!” A voice interrupted our embrace, and we both turned to see Duke Bruce Banner standing at the entrance, a charming but calculated smile on his face. His eyes flickered between us, though it was clear his attention was only on Saffron.

"I truly hate to interrupt a bonding moment between sisters," he said with a grin, "but it’s time for the cake."

Saffron gave him a strained smile before taking his arm. But before she let go of my hand, she squeezed it tightly, a silent promise, a reassurance that no matter what, we would always have each other. Even if the world we lived in forced us apart.

As they walked away, the weight of what was coming settled over me like a shroud. Soon, I would be gone, sent away under the guise of preserving what little dignity we had left. And Saffron would stay, locked in a life she hadn’t chosen but couldn’t refuse.

I watched them go, my heart heavy, knowing that we had both become prisoners of our fates. But for now, we could pretend,for one last time,that everything was still as it had been.

The weight of it all pressed heavily on my chest. A chapter of my life that I had barely begun to understand was forcibly coming to a close, and it was out of my control. I let out a small breath, placing a hand over my belly. The child inside me had yet to show, but the reality of it, the enormity of it, was already sinking in. Would I be a good mother? Would I ever have a chance to make things right?

The carriage rumbled through the forest, cutting a path toward the next town where we would stop to rest. I watched as tree after tree passed by, but the rhythmic movement of the ride made me nauseous. I closed my eyes, trying to calm the twisting in my stomach, but instead, my mind filled with questions.

What will my new life be like?

I hadn’t realized I had drifted off into sleep until a sharp jolt startled me awake. The carriage had come to a sudden stop. At first, there was nothing but hushed murmurs from outside, voices low and indistinct. But then the gurgling screams began.

My heart seized in my chest.

Were we being robbed?

Terror gripped me, and I curled up tightly in the corner of the carriage, trying to make myself as small as possible. My pulse thundered in my ears, and I held my breath, listening as footsteps crunched on the gravel outside, drawing closer to the carriage door. There was a pause,three distinct knocks,before the door swung open.

Green eyes met mine, gleaming with amusement. A familiar, infuriating smirk followed.

"Loki."

Confusion flooded through me. 

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice trembling.

He stepped forward with all the casual arrogance I had come to expect from him taking a seat across from me, his grin widening. “I’m here to collect what’s mine.”

His words took me aback, my confusion deepening. What did he mean?

Loki sighed, as if I were being slow, and moved closer, his hand brushing lightly against my cheek, a gesture that was oddly tender coming from him. But then his hand traveled lower, resting over my stomach. His voice was soft, but there was a dangerous edge to it. “This," he said, his fingers pressing gently, "and this.”

I recoiled instinctively, grabbing his hand and pushing it away. Panic swirled inside me as I whispered, “How did you know?”

His eyes darkened, the smirk fading into something more serious. “What made you think I wouldn’t know?”

I didn’t know what to say. My mind raced, searching for something that would make this moment less terrifying, but nothing came. The air between us felt suffocating.

Loki sat back, spreading his legs wide and resting his arms along the back of the seat, completely at ease as though we weren’t discussing the life growing inside of me. “Why didn’t you tell your mother about us?”

“There was nothing to tell,” I said quickly, my voice tight.

He laughed then, a cold, humorless sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Oh, there’s plenty to tell,” he said, his tone darkening. His gaze dropped to my stomach, his eyes narrowing. “Did you think you could keep the child from me?” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Did you think you could keep yourself away from me?”

I swallowed hard, trying to hold his gaze but feeling the weight of his words press down on me.

Loki leaned back again, watching me with those sharp, calculating eyes. “Since you’re carrying my child, I won’t punish you as I normally would.” His voice was low, almost casual, but the threat beneath it was unmistakable. “But make no mistake, Honey,you will be punished.”

The carriage fell eerily quiet. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and I could feel the chill creeping up my spine. For a moment, neither of us moved. The tension was thick, palpable.

Then, slowly, Loki stood, towering over me, his expression unreadable. “You won’t escape me, Honey. Not now, not ever.” He grabbed my hair, banging my head against the wall. “Maybe next time you’ll be a bit more forthcoming about your condition.” He pulls me up by my hair, my scalp burning as I feel my skin being pulled. He begins moving me around, as if molding me to his touch. Before I know it, I am on my hands and knees. I try to move away but Loki slaps my face “No, you will behave.” I still, his hand still in my hair. I feel fingers creeping down my dress before lifting my skirts over my bottom. Tears flow from my eyes as I begin to beg him to let me go. “Please Loki do not do this to me.” He ignores my please as he removes my undergarments, I feel the cool air against my naked skin, and I begin to struggle once more. He pushes me into the carriage seat “If you’d like my guards to join, that please continue to move.”

I still once more.

This could not be happening again. As much fear as I had to be meeting aunt Gertrude, the one thing I was glad to avoid was this.

But it seems to be something I am unable to escape.

I feel his fingers ghosting my bottom, before feeling their way between my lips, gently pushing against my pearl. My breathe hitches as I whimper at the feel. He chuckles slowly rubbing it as my arousal begins to stain his hands.

It wasn’t long before I felt him moving around behind, and I felt something soft and firm poking between my legs.

“Please” I whisper with one final plea

He carefully moves to grab my hips, tightening his hands against them. “You will be mine forever.”

He thrusted into my pussy, prying the flesh apart, pushing until he reached the hilt of his pubic region.

Although there was pain, as expected, it did not feel as terribly as the first time. Slowly he began to move, pushing in and out until his cock was soaked with the juices of my cunt. Although it stung, the feeling wasn’t torturous, in fact, it was beginning to feel pleasurable.

Guilt began to eat away at me as his thrusts became more forceful, and I slowly begin reach a peak. My whimpers becoming moans, as he hovers over me to pinch my nipples.

 I don’t realize what’s happened, until I feel vibrations in my body and see stars in my eyes.

“Good Girl.” Loki whispers into my ear as \ he continues to thrust until I feel his body stiffen with his own release. He collapses on top of me, feeling my exposed skin while still inside of me.

I was still wrapping my head about what had just gone on when Loki moved to open the carriage door, a blissful smile playing on his lips as he glanced back at me. His expression was unsettling, a dangerous mix of amusement and calculation.

"I feel like a game of tag," he said casually, as though nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired.

My mind was still spinning, my body worn out, trying desperately to gather my bearings after everything that had just happened. The situation felt surreal, like some twisted nightmare.

"I’ll give you a five-minute head start." His words made my stomach drop as the pieces slowly started coming together in my mind. "If you make it to your mother’s home before I catch you, I will leave you alone forever."

I sat up, quickly fixing my dress, my heart pounding in my chest. Loki was playing a game, one I knew I couldn’t afford to lose. Staying in this carriage with him would lead to nowhere good, but the alternative was no less terrifying.

"However," he continued, pausing just enough to let the weight of his words sink in, "if I catch you first, you’ll have to say yes to my proposal." He smiled wider, his eyes glinting with dangerous excitement. "And we’ll continue to play tag until you do reach your home."

Before I could respond, Loki stepped out of the carriage and, with alarming ease, pulled me out and lifted me onto the ground. His grip was firm but not painful, yet it only heightened the sense of helplessness coiling inside me.

When I looked behind him, I found the coachmen dead on the ground, laying in what I assumed to be blood. I was too scared to speak, so I remained quiet.

"Your five minutes starts now." His grin widened as he glanced at an invisible clock. "Four minutes and fifty-four seconds."

I didn’t waste another second. I took off running, my legs stiff and unsteady beneath me, my body still heavy with the shock of what had just occurred. My heart hammered in my chest, each step labored and uncoordinated as I struggled to push forward. All with his essence dripping down my legs.

This can’t be happening, I thought to myself, as tears welled up in my eyes. This can’t be real.

But it was.

The trees blurred as I stumbled through the forest, branches catching at my dress, my shoes sinking into the uneven earth beneath me. Tears streamed down my face as I tripped and fell hard into the dirt, my hands scraping against the ground as I hit the earth with a dull thud.

I could hear Loki’s voice in the back of my mind, taunting me with his smile, his challenge. The reality of what he wanted, the cruel game he was playing, pressed down on me, suffocating my thoughts.

I lay there for a moment, my chest heaving, dirt smeared across my hands and face. I felt the ground beneath me, solid and cold, but all I could think was:

what am I supposed to do now?

[merci-bitch]

loved your Charlize characters things, but can’t you do somewhat the same with some of Meryl’s characters? Like how they are to live with or something

Thanks ! And sure, should be fun! Seems a bit short but oh well, haha

Not my gifs!

Miranda Priestly

- Well

- She’s tough

- She’s a perfectionist at best

- Her house is very clean

- Even for having two near teenage girls

- She has a nanny for her girls who also cooks for them when she isn’t able

- Although I don’t think Miranda is the biggest cook, I do think she knows how to do it

- Her townhouse is MASSIVE

- 3 stories

- So many rooms

- You still get a little lost sometimes

- Not surprising though, there’s so many doors

- But Miranda wouldn’t be too bad to live with

- Unless she’s stressed and in one of those terrible moods

- She can be quite poisonous in her mouth

- Very critical

- You know not to fuel it at the worst times

- But you still like to pick at her

- Teaser

- 😌

Donna Sheridan

- She’s so fun

- You, Sophie and her are dream team

- You were a painter , a local, and had known Donna for years, since Sophie was little

- You helped Sophie become good at drawing and painting

- And you just became a part of their little family

- Although Donna and Sophie still spend a lot of thing alone together, you don’t mind

- Dancing and singing all the time obvs

- You help Donna around the island, help her with renovating the hotel

- You remind her to take one day at a time

- You’ve painted the hotel a number of times, painted Donna and Sophie

- She loves it

- You have a lot of fun

- Sophie and you always team up against Donna

- Play little pranks on her

- When Sophie was younger, you’d tell her stories about the world and paint an image of what her world might look like

- The love Donna has for her daughter is so beautiful

- Donna often worries about how empty she will feel once Sophie leaves

- If she does

Jane Adler

- Oh my god

- You are her experiment bunny for her new recipes

- She always tests new things in the kitchen

- And you are her critic for tasting

- She loves you dearly

- She loves how well you get on with her kids

- She was worried about the slight age gap

- How her children would react

- But they love you

- You’re a little older than her oldest

- So she doesn’t fell that bad, but still it’s different

- She kicks you out of the house when she has her dinner parties with her girls friends

- She gossips about you to them obvs

- One of her friends always tries to get her to talk about you in the bed

- Because Jane suddenly has so much energy she bakes three pies for one night

- Jane just smirks and doesn’t say a word

- Whenever Jane can’t sleep, she makes ice cream so your freezer is FILLED with ice cream

- You are left to eat it

- Not that you’re complaining, it’s the best thing ever

- Many late nights up

- Watching movies

- Taking baths together

- Getting high accidentally together

- That’s some funny shit

- Really

- She accidentally bought pot brownies

- The most hilarious thing ever HAHAH

- If you look away from the whole plot of the movie, but still stay on track

- She never slept with Jack

- She slept with you weeks before and you became a thing

- You filled the empty house with your laughter and her own and she doesn’t feel so alone anymore

The Witch

- Well this is difficult

- Because you don’t technically “live” together

- And you’re not really together together either

- But when the plot happens, and she turn’s beautiful again

- Suddenly something happens

- You find yourself attracted to the witch you were told to fear

- She knows

- Of course she knows

- She enjoys feeling attractive, longed for, and everything once again

- When the big lady giant comes down from the sky, and she loses her daughter she seeks you

- Not for comfort

- But to release pent up anger for Rapunzel

- She knows she’ll come back

- Of course she will

- But seeing you tremble before her is too good to just let pass by

- So you become her little thing

- And then when the plot continues

- You were a friend of the bakers

- Everyone goes against the witch except you

- And oh how she enjoys it

- She’s seducing you

- She knows she doesn’t love you

- She loves her daughter

- But you’re a good distraction

- In the middle of all chaos she finds you by a tree as she’s looking for the boy

- Sneaks up on you

- Has a little fun riling you up only to be caught by the bakers and everyone else

- Whoops

- Your little secret is out

- Last Midnight

- And suddenly she’s gone

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

The guest PT 9

Masterlist

Jack Dawkins x fem reader

"I'm afraid I, too, have an uncomfortable revelation. About the stolen pay. Now seems an appropriate time to deliver it. My suspicions were first aroused when told there'd been an outbreak of typhoid and I can now confirm..." Gaines is interrupted by a redcoat dragging Fagin into the room.

"Get your hands off me!" The older man squirmed.

"Captain Gaines. Found this vagrant screamin' he's got urgent news. Flog him now or flog him in jail?" The soldier asked.

"Is no one interested in this urgent news?" Lady Jane mused.

"This man is my servant. And as such, I take full responsibility for him and whatever it is he's been up to." Jack says standing up from the table.

" Yes, well, I have vital information about the soldiers' pay. Please. Your Majesties, allow me to unfold a sordid tale of unmatched woe." Fagin began. You sat and listened to his story as a carriage pulled up at the front door. Gaines marched himself out there, finding his wife Peggy and Darius sitting together. The Soldiers pay in a leather bag at their feet.

The members of the party dispersed into separate rooms, you being left in the dining room alongside Sneed.

"Was that true? You helped him make a fool ofme? I knew you did not want to marry me but to go as far as to defame me, to scupper my chances of head surgeon..."

"No Rainsford I didn't mean...I was just-" your cut off by the pain in your chest. It takes over your whole body, making you drop against him, limp and dizzy. You gasp for breath.

"What is it?" He asks you but his words are lost in the fog of your mind.

"I can't...I... Rainsford." Your whole weight drops and you hardly feel as he lifts you into his arms. The rush of the family as they watch him carry you up to your room and lay you on the bed. You don't see the concerned glances between Fanny and Belle as he listens to your chest and checks your pulse. You know nothing until you awake hours later in a darkened room with only a single candle burning on the table, Belle sat close by.

*_*_*_*

"well if you insist on her living in town, I am going to live with her. It is completely uncivilised to expect an unwed young woman to live entirely alone." Belle was arguing with her mother.

"Absolutely not." Lady Jane slammed her hand on the table.

"then y/n should just stay here." Fanny argued.

"of course she is stating here, clearly the girl is unwell and I will not put her out in such a condition." Edmund finalised the conversation.

"I shall work on marrying her off then, I'm sure someone will take her " lady Jane scoffs and turns away. Fanny looks to her sister,

"You've been moping ever since Dr. Dawkins ruined our dinner. Come on. Up!" She demanded. Belle groaned at her and threw her legs off the side of the couch allowing Fanny to sit beside her, "Are you feeling any better?"

"Yes, I'm completely cured of my despair. I have a gift to lift your spirits. A guillotine? Better."

I have a gift for you. A painting made with these very hands. It's the story of us. Our journey here, a house, a kangaroo." Fanny pointed to each thing on the paper.

"What are these?" Belle asked pointing.

"Tree trunks. I keep seeing these in my dreams" fanny said absently.

"Doctor Sneed is here for you." Lady Jane announced through the door. Fanny perked up, "No, not for you for Belle, he wishes to take you shooting." Belle rolled her eyes and left the parlour.

With encouragement from Fanny you leave the comfort of your bed and sit in the parlour. Though she has to leave you some time later you are content for a moment until lady Jane enters.

"I'm sorry, Lady Jane. I can go elsewhere if you need the room." You say.

"No, no. It appears I have been out voted and you are to stay here with us." She grumbled.

"Oh, well, I will endeavour to no longer be a bad influence on your daughters." You said as respectably as you could.

"Yes, good." The older woman turned and left once more, followed only moments later by Belle as she flung herself onto the couch.

"He asked me to marry him." She huffed. You knew it was coming and you'd turned him down, so why did it annoy you?

"You could do worse?" You laugh falsely, knowing well enough Belle would never agree to marry Sneed. Her eyes looked at you, studied your features.

"No, but I could do so much better. Have you ever married?" Her question was breathy, like it had taken much courage to ask it. You shake your head, absentmindedly.

"No, no one ever stood up to the fictional characters that I feel for." You laugh.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Oh just some light reading." You closing the medical book. Belle thinks for a moment.

"Jack is a fine man." She states.

"Yes he is," you agree. His face instantly popping into your mind's eye. The way he had smiled at you, still fresh in your thoughts

"You say that I should consider him, but what if I want to consider someone else?" Her eyes flick between your eyes and your hands.

"No, you should set yourself on Jack, he compliments you and you him." You say.

"but the way he acted at the dinner..."

"Belle, you were awful to him. You invited him here for your own adjenda and then humiliated him." You chastise her.

"No, I...well I..." Belle sighs, resting her head on her fists. "he was rude to me."

"because you hurt him." You explain. "But don't worry, he'll come round." You assure her. Belle looks to you, a strange feeling bubbling in her stomach that she hadn't felt before.

*_*_*_*

Jack stood at the preparation table when Sneed came marching in.

"I demand to know why you were seeing my patient. I had already made it abundantly clear his condition is inoperable." He scowled.

" He wanted a second opinion." Jack replied almost uncaring .

"From you? Please." Sneed jeered. Jack put down the apparatus he had in his hands, "Wouldn't you want a second opinion if some spoilt, pompous, upper-class prat with only basic medical knowledge told you your career was over?"

"Never cross me again on matters medical, Dawkins. I don't know how things were done on your side of the city, but that's not how we do things here. You will not operate on that man. Nor will you have anything to do with the ladies of Government house." Sneed hissed,

"Ah you true intentions scream out. She'll never be yours." Jack knows he doesn't need to say a name for Sneed to understand.

"And if I find that foul stench has anything to do with you or your illiterate friends, I will see you are all soundly punished."

"That's so strange because, you see, we all thought that that smell was coming from you."

Jack could not concentrate after that, his mind caught back on you, when an idea pops into his mind.

*_*_*_*

"Hello." Jack said as he barrelled through Belle's balcony window.

"Have you completely lost all sense?" She scowled at him.

"Quite possibly."

" If you have come to apologise for your behaviour from now weeks ago, then you must do it formally and at a proper time. I will consider whether or not to accept it. Please go." Belle says arrogantly.

"I'm not here for you." He said walking to the bedroom door and slipping down the corridor, Belle marched behind him.

"Come to steal from my home have you?" She jeered. Jack stopped with his hand on a doorknob.

"on contrary." He pushed open the door entering your room. You sit on the bed. "Do you know about Strabismus surgery?" He asks you.

"What does a criminal need to know about that?" Belle scoffs.

"Do you?" He ignores her, keeping his eyes on you.

"It's the realignment of the eye." You say.

"See? I knew you'd know." He smiled at you

"Would you happen to have some medical textbook that might..." you say to Belle.

" Yes. This way." The two do you follow Belle downstairs, as Jack leans back on the desk you sit down in the desk chair. Belle climbed up to look through the shelves.

"Are you...how are you?" Jack asks you.

"I'm fine Jack." You reply to him, trying to keep your tone flat.

"It was first performed in the 1830s by John Homer Dix. The surgeon needs only three instruments, a fine hook to elevate the conjunctiva, a bent probe to isolate the tendon, and scissors for opening up the conjunctiva."Belle read allowed from an old book as she climbed down.

"Pictures. I need pictures." Jack says standing to his full height.

" Yes. Here." Belle holds the book towards him.

"It is so dangerous." You say from your seat.

" Yeah, but you love that, don't you?" He grins back at you.

"Can you do it?" Belle asked.

" Yes. Maybe." He scanned the pictures.

The three of you start walking back toward the stairs.

"It's important for both of us that we clear the air about what transpired." Belle addressed Jack, "I admit that I said things in that moment that I now regret. And I'm equally sure that you said things that now, in the cold light of day, you wish were-" you feel Jack slip away from your side.

"What are you two doing? Y/n are you feeling any better?" Fanny asked walking up to you both.

"I'm well, Fanny. Thank you." You say quietly.

"You've had eight turns in the last few weeks. I've been keeping count." She said, eyes full of concern.

"All's well, sister. Go on, back to bed." Belle said. You shoot your eyes back to Jack before pulling Belle upstairs with you to dress.

"What is that smell?" Belle asks as you walk into the hospital.

"Fagin." Jack answered with a grin.

"It smells like ambergris." She scoffed.

" Like what?" You couldn't help your giggle at his words.

"Will you wait?" Belle grabbed his arm, " Are you going to apologise to me or not?"

"No. What for?" Jack asked.

" For the way you spoke to me."

"Hang on, Belle we spoke about this." You say.

"No, y/n it's fine. I was hurt. And I'm sorry if I spoke to you abruptly. But I don't know how to talk to women. I've never really had to." Jack admits.

" I am similarly rarely interested in anything a man has to say. And I forgive you." Belle nods her head.

" Good. Don't invite me to any more stupid dinner parties. Your lot will never accept me." Jack implores her.

" Why would you want them to accept you? You have no idea how boring we all are." She grins.

"Not all of you." Jack muses, his eyes momentarily flicking to you.

As Jack is preparing the equipment and Belle is helping the navigator on to the operating table he turns to you.

"So, you know what happens here, right?" You nod to him, "So...can I do it?"

"Jack, you are the most skilled surgeon in the world. You can do anything." You say.

Jack dropped his eyes to the table, a thousand thoughts running through his mind.

"Are you still-" he swallows, "still set on my being with Belle and not you?" He asks.

"Jack, I know.it doesn't make sense to you but that's how it's supposed to happen." You stick to your guns.

"But isn't it all different already? I don't feel for her what you say I should. I feel them for you. Surely just being here has already changed it. What if you're meant to change it?" Jack had moved around the table coming closer to you.

"We're ready in here." Belle interrupted.

"y/n?" Jack raised his eyebrows to you.

"Go, I'll be there in a moment."

@fandomfan-102 @deanstolemydragon @mydeputyghostwagon

[evenhisfacewasanalias]

You should see me in a crown

Lady Jane Grey/Guildford Dudley

Rating: Adult

“In regione caecorum rex est luscus,” Guildford quips back with a smile. In the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king. 

“I think you mean ‘regina est lusca’,” she corrects.

But his grin only widens. “Glad to see becoming Queen hasn’t gone to your head if you’re still correcting my Latin.”

She raises her brows, “and you’re still in need of correction.”

(Really just an excuse to write some throne room smut. Guildford shows off his language skills with full marks on the oral exam!)

Jane watches as the sun sets through the stained glass windows to the west, wishing she could see an end in sight to this Council meeting. Party planning meeting, really - what had started as an actual meeting about her sudden disbanding of the Kingsland Guard and easing of the Division Laws had taken a strange turn at the reminder of her upcoming coronation.

Suddenly, everyone had an opinion. Many of those present still remembered the spectacular coronation of Henry the VIII, and the somewhat lesser occasion of her cousin’s. All had an endless supply of advice to offer her, which had taken the better part of the last several hours. 

Jane finds she doesn’t care one whit about the sodding menu, or the music, or really any part of the ceremony that isn’t her plan to draw Mary’s treachery out into the open - with a little help from her surprise guests. But she can’t exactly discuss those plans here.

At the far end of the throne room, she spots Guildford leaning against the doorframe, watching her try to hide her growing annoyance at her intransigent cabinet suddenly transformed into experts on floral arrangements - on which they are equally as uncompromising. Despite the smug expression with which he watches her field their advice, she can’t remember when she’s ever been so happy to see her errant husband. He must have come here straight from the stables as he was still in his leather doublet and trousers.

She stands from the throne with finality.

“I think that’s enough planning for one night, we can resume our discussions on the morrow.”

A spirited debate over whether the inclusion of rosemary would be a warm remembrance of Edward or too funereal, thankfully ends at her rise. But still, no one makes a move to leave.

“You are dismissed,” she tries, barely holding herself back from shooing her Councilors from the room.  

Jane remains standing as they all file out of the room to the last man, finally leaving her alone with Guildford. She hadn’t been able to speak with him since he had helped her to decipher Mary and Lord Seymour’s letters the night before - and then there was the matter of their near kiss in the stables. But for once he looks nearly as pleased to see her as she does to see him, and so she decides that now is not the moment to tell him of Mary’s attempted regicide, or her newly developed plans to bait her into another attempt. He will only try and talk her out of it. So she simply smiles as he makes his way toward her.

“The crown suits you,” he nods to her as he nears the throne, where she still stands on the slightly raised dais, leveling her gaze with his. 

Jane reaches up to straighten the heavy circle of gold and jewels, expertly matched with her green and blue dress by her mother. She had only put it on to try and gain back a little of her authority as she faced down her Council. Now she feels a little silly about wearing it, and the ridiculous debate he just witnessed.

“It actually did start as a real Council meeting,” she tries to explain. “But I don’t know which is worse - arguing with a bunch of obstinate old men over the backwardness of our Division Laws, or debating the merits of peacock versus porpoise on the menu.”

“Well, that all rather depends on whether one considers peacock to be meat or poultry,” Guildford puts on his best impression of the Earl of Wiltshire. Apparently he had been listening for some time. It must be later than she realizes.

“Please don’t start that again,” she begs. “But you’re right, that was actually worse. I think I might actually be reaching a few of the younger Councilors on the Ethian issue.” 

“In regione caecorum rex est luscus ,” Guildford quips back with a smile. In the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king.  

Jane freezes. Even though he means to mock her, she sometimes forgets that while her husband might be equal parts ill-mannered and pigheaded, underneath it all he is in fact highly intelligent. And - rather unfortunately - almost nearly as charming as he thinks he is. But she won’t admit that the reminder of her husband’s ability to spout Latin aphorisms - or crack elaborate ciphers - still does something to her as it had at their first meeting. 

And so she pulls herself together as best she can, putting on a mask of indifference to the effect his words have on her. 

“I think you mean ‘regina est lusca ’,” she corrects.

But his grin only widens. “Glad to see becoming Queen hasn’t gone to your head if you’re still correcting my Latin.”

She raises her brows, “and you’re still in need of correction.”

“How about this one then? Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo .” If I cannot move Heaven, I will raise hell. 

Fuck. That’s even worse. She can feel her body tensing in expectation of…something. Another battle of words, perhaps? Jane will never admit she enjoys matching wits with her husband on occasion. Even if she still craves a different kind of confrontation.

“Virgil, not bad. Carmina vel caelo possunt deducere lunam ,” she counters his Aeneid with the Eclogues. Songs can lead even the Moon down from the Heavens - not a perfect retort but at least it mirrors the reference to the heavens, and it comes from a far less widely read source. Guildford:1, Jane: 2. “Your pronunciation has improved at least,” she allows.

“I’m no polyglot, though I’ve often been complimented on my skilled tongue,” he winks back at her, bringing an immediate flush to her cheeks. 

Her mind immediately jumps to the oft-visited memory of their two shared kisses, both all too brief - the way his warm hands had cupped her jaw as his tongue sought hers. Skilled indeed.

His smirk tells her he notices her blush, but he has the good grace not to comment on it for once. “Did you know, that first night that we met, I thought to myself - what kind of woman visits a tavern just to correct a man's Latin?” 

This, at least, she can handle. Debating their respective faults is well-worn territory between them.

“And I wondered how I managed to find the most insufferable prat in all of England.” 

The corners of her mouth tilt upward to show she’s merely in jest. After all, they’ve both had to deal with Lord Seymour lately. Still, she counts it as a victory, sitting back on the throne and crossing her arms over her chest looking very pleased with herself. Jane ignores that this posture unintentionally presses her breasts up against the bodice of her gown, but she doesn’t miss the way Guildford’s eyes glance down.

“In all of England, really? London, maybe,” he concedes. “Neither of us was at our best that night. Any chance you’ve reconsidered that first impression?”

“A queen must be unwavering,” she replies, feigning a royal countenance. Her crown tilts a little against the engraved wood behind her as she tries to look down, her nose at him, but Guildford’s standing far too close.

He slips even closer. One booted foot steps up onto the dais, bending at the knee so he can lean further into her space. His arms go to either side of her, gripping the throne’s armrests and caging her in. Her breath catches at his sudden nearness.

“Then perhaps I shall tell you more about my first impression of you,” he offers. 

“Oh?” She attempts to feign indifference, still trying to act the part of the Queen regnant - even as the heat of his body and the smell of warm leather reach her, leaving her feeling a little lightheaded. “Remember that any disparaging remarks could now be considered treason.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he smirks, his face nearing hers. “In fact, when I saw you walking towards me I thought you looked like a woman in desperate need of a good shagging. Or at least a very thorough tongue lashing.”

His words are delivered with a wink and she can’t help the blush that reaches her cheeks, her whole body growing warm with the weight of his words. Jane tries to keep it together.

“I seem to remember already receiving a tongue lashing from you over my - what was it again? My amiability?” Her voice nearly squeaks at that last word, but she makes it through.

“Not that kind of tongue lashing, Your Highness.” 

Guildford’s nose does that little scrunch that it always does when she’s being particularly obtuse, and her face heats further at the realization of what he means, as well as the intimate inflection of her title. That last part sends a little shivery zing down her spine. Guildford’s probably already guessed the effect it’s having on her, the bastard.

“And what made you change that impression?” She barely manages to get out.

“Who says I did?”

And it’s true that Guildford has made no secret of his desire for her - it’s her wishes that have always halted them. But with the imprint of Mary’s fingers still around her throat, she finds she really doesn’t want to stop whatever is happening between them right now. Who knows when she’ll ever have the chance again? Jane catches Guildford’s dark eyes glancing down at her lips and pushes all thoughts of doubt from her mind.

“Shut up and kiss me, you idiot,” she commands

“Happy to serve, Your Majesty,” he smiles back, leaning in.

And promptly drops to his knees.

Her mind blanks a little at the sudden sight, eyes widening and lips parting. What on earth was he doing? Jane realizes she’s asked the question aloud.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He smirks before bringing his hands to her knees, sliding the fabric of her skirts upwards. Surely he doesn’t really intend to…

“What if someone comes in?” she stammers, but doesn’t stop the press of his hands upwards.

“That’s half the fun,” he winks up at her.  “But don’t worry, they won’t see much,” he assures before ducking beneath her skirts. Jane doesn’t even think of halting him, still too stunned and more than a little aroused by the thought of it..

The first touch of his warm hands to the backs of her knees has her inhaling sharply, the sound echoing loudly in the empty hall. With those same hands he pulls her to the edge of her seat, spreading her thighs to accommodate broad shoulders between them, and she barely catches herself from falling back against the throne.

It occurs to Jane that beneath her heavy damask skirts, she’s completely bare but for her chemise and stockings. There’s nothing to impede him. He could just…

Instead, she feels the faintest press of lips, the slight catch of his stubble against the side of her right knee though the silk. And how had she never realized before that her knees were this sensitive? His hands run soothingly along the backs of her stockings until she’s able to slightly regain her balance, reaching out to grip at ornate armrests. And then she can feel his hands moving inward to press her knees further apart, bringing a fresh wave of heat spreading beneath her skin and down to her pool low in her belly. 

As his hands grasp at her thighs, she feels strangely aware of the cool weight of his wedding ring gliding across her skin, the rightness of its presence. She glances down at its mate on her own left hand. And then her whole world narrows to the feel of his hot mouth traveling up along her inner thighs, the dragging lips and the slight rasp of his jaw along the sensitive skin there. Her eyes flutter closed at the sensation, drawing in little shaky breaths as she imagines the flushed trails he leaves behind. 

The sudden hard edge of teeth biting into the softness of her thigh has her nearly jolting out of her seat. Guildford immediately soothes the sting with his tongue. Jane gasps at the feel of it, surprised at her enjoyment of the slight edge of pain mixed with the pleasure of his lips and tongue. Not hearing any protests, he repeats the gesture, a bare inch away from the last mark, and she can feel him practically growling into her thigh as he sinks his teeth a little harder into the skin there. Jane lets out a shuddery moan at the feel of it, skirting just the edge of too much. 

Showing uncharacteristic mercy on her, Guildford continues his journey upward, delivering gentler nips and sucking kisses along the soft skin. She can feel herself half trembling, winding tighter and tighter as he nears his goal, her sex already slick with want. He’s so close…

But just as he nears, Guildford suddenly switches to her other thigh, repeating the same maddening treatment until she’s practically keening. Jane already feels like she’s vibrating out of her skin and he’s still so far from where she actually wants him. She shivers as soft curls brush against the already over sensitized skin of her right thigh as he works his way up the leftmost. Each bite draws out another hiss of pleasure followed by a moan as he sucks what’s she sure is an additional bruise along the still unmarked skin. 

Finally, finally , he’s delivering a final nip to the top of one thigh and then he pauses there, breathing deeply. She shudders at the feel of warm breath against her cunt as he breathes out again. Her thighs try to press together at the sensation but are halted by Guildford’s strong shoulders. His hands pull them even further apart, as his face presses closer. Her clit is already throbbing as he noses against her curls, and she practically shouts when his tongue finally drags over her, tasting her.

This time, he doesn’t tease, lapping into her immediately, parting her with his tongue. Her face heats at the wet sound of it, muffled as it is by her skirts, but she doesn’t pull away. His tongue strokes broadly at first before delving into her folds. He swiftly finds her clit, alternating little flicks and flutters of his tongue followed by suckling at the little bundle of nerves until she’s writhing in her seat. 

“Guildford, ” a steady stream of moans and his name pours from her lips every time he gets something just right.

His tongue travels further down, dipping into her entrance. She’s only ever had the touch of her own fingers there before and the soft heat of his tongue as it presses into her nearly has her bucking her hips against him. She can feel him chuckle at the aborted twitch of her hips as she tries to restrain herself, but the inward glide of his tongue does nothing to help. 

And suddenly, she can’t stand not being able to see any of what is happening beneath her skirt, wanting desperately to see his face as he pleasures her, and tangle her fingers in his dark curls.

“Guildford, wait…”

He halts immediately, drawing back from beneath her skirts to search her face for any indication that this is too much for her. But Jane merely sucks in a breath at the sight of his own face, flushed pink and glistening with sweat, all the way down his throat to what she can just glimpse of his chest between the vee of his shirt. His curls are in complete disarray. And worst of all that vexing mouth of his is now red and shiny from what she blushes to realize is her. Jane aches at the sight.

“I wanted to see you,” she confesses.

Guildford’s face lights up at her words, apparently having thought she meant to reject him once more. With a sharp burst of fondness that surprises her, Jane reaches out to take his face in her hands, running her fingers along his relieved smile. He presses into her fingers, turning his face to kiss at the center of her palms. With one of her hands she reaches up to press back damp curls from his forehead, soothing along it. With the other she glides it back to tangle in his soft curls as she had been so desperate to just moments ago, unconsciously drawing him toward her.

His pleased expression curls into a grin. “If anyone walks in now they might get an eyeful.”

And she can see exactly what he means. Her skirts are bunched around her thighs - which are now covered in lines of pink and faint bruises - her stockings barely holding on. But in between them is Guildford, flushed even pinker and on his knees before her. She should be embarrassed but all she feels in this moment is powerful.

“All they’ll see is you serving your Queen,” she retorts, and doesn’t miss Guildford’s shudder at her words.

Her hands slide deeper into his curls to grip at the locks, delighting at the sight of her husband’s eyes nearly rolling back, his lips parting at the slight tug. An even stronger pull has him moaning, but still grinning up at her. Jane laughs. Neither one of them has ever been good at giving in.

Still, he goes willingly as she guides him back to where she’s aching. It takes them a moment to rearrange her gown so that it’s out of the way but then he’s pressing back in, tongue picking up just where it left off. 

Where it left off was driving her slowly insane, the delicious in and out of his clever tongue. Still keeping a firm grip on his curls, she guides him back up to her clit when it has started to feel neglected, and he’s quick to wrap his lips around it, swirling his tongue around her. His eyes flick up to meet hers and she gasps at the intensity of his gaze.

His tongue moves down to dip into her again, and at the slight tease of it she tightens her grip to press him deeper. Guildford groans, eyes briefly slipping closed at the sensation and she can feel the sound vibrate through her. Jane suddenly wants more.

With one hand she keeps hold of him, pressing him into her, while the other shifts to run through his wild curls, occasionally scratching at his scalp with blunted nails. Each motion draws out a new little noise from her husband and she feels them all reverberating shiveringly through her cunt. His tongue is practically fucking her now, and she can feel her hips trying to match his rhythm.

Jane tries to stop herself, but Guildford’s hands run soothingly along her outer thighs, petting at her hips and encouraging them to rock back, riding against the thrust of his tongue. Like this, his lips and nose occasionally bump against her clit, but it’s not quite enough.

“I need…” she starts, not sure exactly what she intends to say.

Thankfully Guildford seems to guess at it, the way she’s tilting her hips against him. His right hand abandons her hip to wrap around her thigh and slip between them. Like this he’s able to press his palm against her belly, thumb slipping down to slickly circle her clit in time with the motion of his tongue, leaving her trembling above him. In Guildford’s dark eyes she can read how much he wants this too, how lost he is in her pleasure, in his adoration of her.

Her hands can’t stop running over any part of him she can touch - his hair, his shoulders, his jaw - and he hums his pleasure at each touch deep within her. The sensation is almost too much as her hips buck helplessly against him, legs shaky with effort. She can feel her inner walls clenching with each plunge of his tongue inside her, her whole body thrumming with need. 

“Guildford, ” she breathes out.

She can feel what must be her own name moaned into her as Guildford clutches roughly at her hip, pressing her into his fingers and mouth as he drags her screaming over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure flows through her as the muscles of her core tense and release with the continued onslaught of his tongue, the ceaseless press of his thumb against her clit. When it finally gets to be too much, he eases her down from it, gentling his tongue and fingers until she only feels soft little kittenish licks and the shuddery tremors that follow. 

Eventually, she draws him back from him, huffing out a giggle as he wipes his face on the edge of her gown. Guildford raises himself up on unsteady legs to press his lips to hers, mouth still slick with her release. Her body gives one last little tremble at the taste of herself on his tongue. She never wants to stop kissing him, but eventually they have to break apart for air. 

“Thorough enough for you, Your Majesty?” Guildford asks rather breathlessly, reaching up to straighten her crown where it’s tipped forward.

“Full marks for pronunciation,” she laughs.

He winks back at her.

“You can correct my Latin anytime.”