#redraw of an older piece in light of Recent Events

[caluette]

the idiot with the painted face

[starridge]

in light of recent events, i decided to redraw an older piece id done because i wanted a happy episode with Them,, so bad,,, im,,, cry

[ive-always-been-a-pirate]

The Other Prince + A CS Modern Royalty AU [Chapter 5]

Modern Royalty AU: HRH Prince Killian has grown up in the shadow of the crown while enduring tragedy and the burdens of being the spare to the heir. With a desire to escape his past, he agrees to play host to the visiting general's daughter in exchange for an eventual life outside royal bounds. Moving on is never that easy though and he quickly learns that being the 'other' prince is even more difficult when you find yourself falling for the girl everyone wants your brother to marry.

Catch Up On Previous Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four Also on FF.net and AO3.

Word Count: 9,453

Okay, I'm sorry this took so long.  I got in that cycle of overthinking things and it ended up being much longer than anticipated! Future chapters won't be as long as this one, but I had lots of Killian feels in this one :) so hopefully you all enjoy it! Huge thank you to @optomisticgirl for her endless assistance and support on this story! As always, I own nothing. Happy reading!

The night had barely begun, but Killian finalized his decision with a fifth tug at his pressed sleeve - he hated this bloody suit. Truthfully, he'd never been particularly keen on being properly trimmed and tailored in general so the dismal conclusion wasn't really a wildly drawn one. Killian had spent his fair share of years finding ways around royal dress code, his preference of modern casual easily overlooked due to his charming smile and stellar sweet talking skills - or at least that's what he told himself. It was easy to see why looking so proper was important as a representative of his grandmother's monarchy, but still, that didn't mean he had to like it.

Perhaps it wasn't his current attire that was solely the source of his agitation he noted when the smooth traveling black BMW pulled up to the gates of Buckingham. He'd spent the few hours before sunset arguing with the brand new, trim-tailored, clean lined blue suit - an endeavor that earned a multitude of grumbles and a few countdown texts from his incessantly formal brother. Taking a final glance in the bathroom mirror, he smoothed the maroon and navy striped tie as he settled on what was really bothering him.

The event calling for his recently required clothes was one he'd been dreading for weeks now - a Royal Navy veterans' memorial ceremony where he'd most certainly spend the evening regaling his older brother's military heroism while squandering the need to sort out his own.

The idea that this was his fault on some level had crossed his mind once or twice since he'd returned home. He'd elected to take the route less selected by royals when he'd chosen the British Army instead of sailing the honorable seas. Breaking the tradition wasn't something he'd done by fear or a distaste for the open ocean, but rather a result of his stubborn need to move out from under his older sibling's shadow.

Of course, that was supposing that such a momentous feat was actually possible.

It wasn't that Liam's courageous dedication to the Navy was anything to balk at - his older brother had navigated the crown and their family through murky, troublesome waters several times. His victories were always discussed in bold terms, the admiration just about everyone seemed to have for the man just ahead of him in the succession line rarely something that wavered. Killian had always seen his big brother in that brilliant light, but as they grew older and Liam completed multiple seaworthy rescue missions, it became a lot more difficult to idolize rather than compare with him. The eventual king-to-be had a decent military based resume, but it didn't begin to compete with the near decade long career Killian had endured while flying through front lines of combat. There were certainly a few qualities and experiences that Killian could easily pull rank on, but it didn't really seem worth it to do so.

His brother would always have what he would never - and that plan had been put into place years before Killian was even born. Liam was the right sort of Captain through and through, a leader of the masses not just limited to the sea, but Killian - well, he had always been something a little more rogue.

"If I didn't know any better-" the familiar voice commented as it's owner approached Killian's side. "-I'd say you look mighty uncomfortable, brother. New suit not feeling as dapper as you'd hoped?"

Lifting his vexed eyes to address the man who owned those subtly chiding words and many others was probably overdue. He was, after all, almost a full hour into avoiding social obligation and the brother who so often reminded him about it. Killian knew that feigning surprise at Liam's approaching stance was futile - his only sibling was unusually adept at tracking him down.

"I'd beg to differ," Killian returned, mustering a bit of that second heir charm he reserved for bantering with his brother. "Just because I don't love wearing it doesn't mean I don't look dashing, your highness."

"Hey, don't start," Liam grumbled with a warning glare that slowly turned into knowing amusement, his hand lifting to adjust the collar of his own suit coat. "Besides, if you're looking that pretentious in this traditional get-up, it certainly means I am too, little brother."

Killian grimaced quickly, his agitated gaze narrowing as Liam's grin lit up. He couldn't help but bestow a light nudge to his brother's side and he tried not to grin too widely at the way Liam winced in dull pain. Victory swelled in the smirk Killian was holding back as he remembered their recent rugby scrimmage and recalling the way the high and mighty heir had taken hard hit to the ribs was almost enough to make him forget that they were currently matching in ways well beyond their stupid injuries.

Almost - but not quite.

The whole thing was merely another detail of these obligated events and one that he had lived to loathe since they were boys. Why two adult men needed to dress identically - everything from pressed slacks to the matching jacket with the two toned striped tie - just because they were royal was completely beyond him.

Wiggling his warm toes in his newly shined shoes, he knew it probably wasn't wise to mention to Liam that their attire wasn't totally the same. His older brother never possessed much patience for the subtle act of rebellion Killian insisted upon when it came to concealed footwear, but pulling on one of his many pairs of obnoxious socks was always a temptation not to be ignored. He'd settled on the blue ones with the little boats for this particular evening, knowing that they'd be at least somewhat relevant even if it wasn't completely proper.

"Glad you find my melancholy entertaining as always, Liam," he sighed with a defeated yet still small smirk. "But for the record, it's-"

"Younger brother - I know," Liam replied with a matching curve of his mouth, one that suggested they might be back on good terms. "It'd be a shame to spend the evening brooding in the corner though, Killian. It would probably be wise to hop to it before Cora says anything…."

Killian felt his shoulders straighten uncomfortably at the mention of the woman who'd just entered the large ballroom. The evening was tense and frustrating enough as it was without the presence of their arriving stepmother, but the deep breath he attempted to take seemed to insist that things were only about to get more difficult. Her entry into the esteemed venue commanded attention in a slightly admirable way that Killian still couldn't understand, but he couldn't help but take pride in the fact that she still didn't receive the pure adoration from the public that his mother always had. While she was respected in a specific manner, there always seemed to be an understanding hanging in the air - the quiet reminder that she wouldn't be there if the first wife of His Royal Highness Prince Brennan still was.

She was a replacement and Killian truly hoped she'd never forget that.

Killian held his ground as he watched her move toward them in a boldly red gown clad with a fake smile and jewels that were actually of her own procuring. Cora had come from her own line of distant royalty, a piece of information that Killian was grateful for ever since the first time he saw her sporting a modest diamond tiara. He had always believed his father wouldn't even consider offering her any of the beautiful jewelry that had been stored safely under lock and key since the day of his mother's funeral, but he also knew better than to not think twice about Cora's ability to manipulate. She'd used it to her advantage a few times since marrying into their family and he'd predicted it from the beginning. A tense fight with his father a few nights before the man wedded her was long standing proof of his distrust in the woman who didn't deserve to be any sort of Duchess.

"So that's it? You can just marry her without thought all while pretending that Mom….that she never even-"

"Killian, stop," he'd tried, his shoulders sagging in frustration. "That's not fair. That is not what this about and I think you know that, son."

"It doesn't make it right, not when you can just….forget-"

"I haven't, son," he told him, his voice cracking just enough. "I miss your mother and always will."

"Could have fooled me."

Killian knew he'd never forget the wide eyed reaction he'd earned from his father after uttering those four impulsive words. They'd been chosen angrily and had crossed a line never meant to be breached. He'd spend years trying to figure out how to redraw it, but the tense aftermath of that argument was proof that some things just couldn't be taken back.

Well, perhaps he'd known that for a while now.

"Killian, I just-," he'd said softly with his eyes honest and a watery blue. "It's just….easier that way. It's easier to not let the hurt consume what's left of me. She's gone, son - and I will fight the agony that encompasses that fact until I can understand just why it's any sort of fair….but I can't just….I can't spend the rest of my life being angry about it. I really wish you wouldn't either."

"I can and I will," he'd told his father with a stubborn, emotional voice. "Because she deserves to be remembered and missed every single day - and I won't let her down like….you are."

The pain rushing back alongside Killian's silent reminiscing still cut deeply and he tried to squander the shame roaming through his mind. Though they'd found their way back to a mutual understanding of loving respect, the tension invoked between Killian and his father had never fully smoothed itself out. The reminder of that was immediately brought forth as he caught the sight of the eldest prince. Their glances locked for only a moment - a quick acknowledgement of one another that seemed to somehow mean everything - and Killian felt his body relax as he watched the ailing heir apparent move into the grand ballroom.

Perhaps it wasn't so easy to tell that his father was still endlessly fighting off the effects of his poor health. It was simple enough for Killian and a few other members of the family to see the decline, but they'd spent time with him frequently enough to note the changes each day brought. It wasn't as if the world was oblivious to the man's medical history - they hadn't exactly made it a point to hide much of what the prince's heart had been through in the past. The first heart attack had been so sudden and stressful as it struck in the aftermath of his mother's death and the one that followed had nearly ruined him. The saga continued when multiple attempts for transplants and treatments had been fraught by even more trifling circumstances, ones that still made Killian's head ache with the 'what if' tones of possibility. His father had ended up with an illness on several occasions that prevented operating and there had also been the morning one of the scheduled surgeries was halted as the passing of the beloved Duke of Edinburgh - an honorable icon of the free world but more importantly the queen's husband and the father of the ailing prince - was announced the night before. That had all been years ago and while their family had not denied much, little more was volunteered in addition to what the press concluded.

It didn't mean the questions didn't cross Killian's mind multiple times a day, much as they did with the thoughts of others he supposed. How much time was left? How long would they have to wonder in terms of years and months? Would he still be there to take the place of the Queen when the time came?

Everyone speculated things of that nature often, but the details were vague - and perhaps it was for the best. Strength and consistency were part of what had made his grandmother such a coveted, successful monarch and the last thing they needed was to ignite a concern that the man who was supposed to ascend the throne next wouldn't be well enough to carry a finely crafted legacy.

"He's been looking better lately," Liam commented as they watched their father shake several hands. "Though I doubt he'd miss this even if we insisted."

Always the optimist, Killian thought without retort to his older and much more hopeful brother. Perhaps it was good to have the encouragement of an idealist hanging in the regal air. Perhaps it wouldn't be wrong to allow them both a fraction of positivity despite what was surely a nearing end.

Killian didn't believe it, but Liam needed it - and maybe that was the least he could offer the brother who'd done so much more for him.

"Aye," Killian nodded softly. "He's always been quite the Navy man."

The quiet comment came without much thought and Liam's chuckle almost made Killian forget about the broken spirit possessed by the man they were analyzing. Their father had actually cleaned up well - his garb stitched in the blue threads of the full naval apparel and his beard neatly trimmed. The usually immaculately clean cut man's hair was a bit longer than was typical for approval, but Killian knew no one would dispute such a minor detail. His eyes were still subtly exhausted, but his calculated movements were proof that he was going to fight through the discomfort for at least this one evening. Watching the way his multiple service medals hung on the fabric covering the space just above his weak heart was definitely a sight that made both Killian and his brother nervous, but seeing him as a formal Admiral of the highest rank was unexpectedly reassuring. The pressed, pleated uniform was a huge shift from the knit sweaters and casual pants he wore regularly since his condition had worsened.

"Still is to some degree," Liam told him with a gentle nudge and a brotherly smirk. "I'm glad he felt up to attending. There's supposed to be a few men he served with here tonight I believe, especially since Admiral Nolan is returning to command soon."

Killian cocked his head sideways at his brother's words. He'd heard the name of the man just mentioned a few times over the years, but most recently he'd caught the sound of it in reference to a naval training mishap not long ago. He didn't know the extensive details - only that a storm just off the coast of Scotland one afternoon had nearly claimed the man's life along with several others. Killian had watched many fellow men face injuries and had even witnessed the sudden demise of a fallen few while on the front lines, each tragic instance just as painful as the one before. Watching a comrade meet that thin line between life and death wasn't something he'd ever gotten used to and he felt a small sweep of relief float over him when he was told that the case of a man his brother obviously held in high regard wasn't as bleak as it could have been.

He didn't know the admiral in question, but he knew those tales of tragedy and the opposite outcome made him glad to see a heroic military man escape a fate less than victory.

"Alright, I'm going to go touch base with a few people and I suggest you do the same, brother," Liam nudged him. "I'll catch up with you in an hour or so - don't wander off too far, alright?"

"Aye, aye, Captain."

A swift slap of his arm wasn't enough for Killian to regret his sarcastic quip of agreement. His smirk held steady as he watched his brother disappear into the growing crowd of honorable sailors, the charisma he possessed definitely not something they'd equally inherited. Turning toward the large clock on the wall across the room as it hit the top of the hour, Killian made a quick decision.

He had about forty minutes before anyone would truly be looking for him - and that was plenty of time to indulge in the liquid courage he was going to need to make it through the evening.

Killian had always been rather fond of this particular part of the palace, even though the entire building itself wasn't high on his list of personal sanctuaries. He'd always found some sense of peace on the central balcony of the Buckingham courtyard - well, as long as it was dark out and the majority of the palace was otherwise occupied.

The elaborate space was renowned and Killian had spent his fair share of time enjoying the prestigious view. Of course, he had done so under much more social and unified circumstances before - always alongside the close knit collection of royals while displaying pride and unwavering faith in the crown. He wondered if his love for such a location came from his memories of being there with his family still intact all those years ago - Liam pointing excitedly at the planes overhead while their father grinned and their mother laughing as she'd tried to hold onto her squirming youngest son. No matter the reason, it was easier to stand in such a noticeable place at night now. That was mostly because the elevated terrace was almost concealed in the darkness courtesy of the granite overhang and multiple columns keeping the architecture stable, creating a sense of off limits tranquility. The space below was well lit, keeping the courtyard easy to navigate, but the balcony above was dim enough to pass for a sufficient quiet place. He rested his grip on the smoothly constructed stone railing as he soaked up the irony of hiding in plain sight. It was almost certain nobody would stumble upon him here.

"Well, aren't you a predictable sight?"

Killian felt the pressed fabric of his suit bind a bit, the material stretched thickly as he turned to peer in the direction of the intruding voice. The quickly approaching dusk wasn't helpful and he squinted slightly while his posture straightened in realization of just who would know to find him out on such a specific balcony.

"Gran," he breathed with a hint of a smile, nodding as she came fully into view. "You're back."

Her returned grin was a bit goading yet adoring as ever as she moved to join him on the well known terrace, her stroll slowed and oddly casual. She was dressed with typical pomp in a cream colored gown emphasized by a series of elaborate jewels and he nearly laughed as he realized that such clothing would have been accompanied by a perfectly matching hat if it were daytime. Instead, her graying hair was topped by a pristinely jeweled sapphire tiara - merely one from her collection of so many others - and Killian recognized it instantly as her favorite.

Of course, she'd never admitted to such an opinion, but she'd wore it frequently enough over the years that he and Liam had labeled it as the trademark 'Granny's crown' from very young ages.

"You missed me I take it," she decided, gesturing around the secluded dim balcony of the grand estate. "If you being out here is any indication."

Her eyes were set in an expressive way he'd seen often but never totally been able to decipher, a mix of amusement and slight disappointment while still bearing an emotion that could only be defined as sympathy. He had fallen victim to such looks of pity many times over the course of his life and from a variety of people - citizens from all over, distant relatives, sometimes even Liam, but most often from the longtime monarch herself. It wasn't that she felt bad for him, but more that she shared an understanding of the workings regarding the emotional roller coaster he'd never bought the ticket for but still ended up riding anyway. She'd always been a perceptive observer of his hidden sadness and it was perhaps because she carried a wealth of it herself. His grandmother had dearly loved the tragically taken princess from the instant the pair were introduced and seeing the toll that loss took on the family as well as the country wasn't an easy sight to behold, even for a remarkable woman who was sixty years into her reign.

"Always," Killian answered earnestly, accepting her gentle embrace and offering his usual peck on her cheek. "Dare I believe the same?"

"That I missed you? Well, I was hardly given the opportunity to before I caught news of just what you've been up to in my absence," she replied with a firm yet curious tone. "I suppose we should discuss that."

She looked almost as uneasy as he felt, but only for a moment until she let out a receptive sigh. He'd been trying to muster an excuse or a deflection since he'd heard she was headed home via voicemail from Liam that morning. There didn't really seem to be a proper way to make himself out to be innocent in this particular situation, but he knew he had to say something.

"I guess….but, I do want you to know that I didn't….I just-" he attempted, eventually shaking his head with a frustrated breath. "-I didn't intend to bring poor attention to us, especially not while you weren't here to reprimand me instead of Liam doing so. Trust me, I would rather it was you. I know it was….wrong though….and I didn't mean for this to be what you came home to, your highness."

"Well, no need to get formal now, Killian - it's only us here," she countered with a gentle smile. "I'm just trying to gather the facts, unfortunate as they may be."

"I know, Gran, but I'm sorry-"

"My dear boy, I'm not here for your apology," she assured him. "If there's one thing I've grown to find endearing about you, it's that vivacious spirit you inherited from your mother. She was the same in a way, you know."

The comment brought a familiar smirk to his mouth as he recalled a few circumstances in which his mother had broken royal protocol in her own style - everything from refusing the regular palace schooling program for her sons to her inability to keep from hugging the abandoned orphans on her service trips to illness ravished countries. She'd never really been one to do things by the regal book and while it had infuriated many of the traditional members of their elaborate government, Killian believed that it was part of what made her so relatable and easy to love.

After all, there weren't many other princesses who secretly wore tennis shoes beneath the occasional ballgown.

"Yeah," he said with a weak smile. "She was."

"Well, we've got a bit of time before the evening commences," she decided, taking a seat on the granite bench close by and patting the empty spot at her side. "So why don't you come tell me what this whole thing was about?"

Killian hesitated a moment, scratching behind his ear anxiously as a soft breeze drifted briefly across the balcony. He'd been teetering on some form of pins and prodding needles since the morning Liam retrieved him from the police station. The possibility of having to face accountability for his impulsive actions a few nights earlier had caused him to dodge his older brother with a hope that his guilty conscience would eventually drop away. He'd settled with the knowledge that it might not and in that case, he'd be facing off with Liam in a bantering battle he'd fought a few times before. Having to explain himself to the queen though - or rather, the temper driven and very idiotic version of himself - was a little more intimidating and Killian struggled to summon the hazy, hangover inducing memory of that evening as he staggered toward the open seat.

He hadn't planned on elaborating, but this was his grandmother after all - and this woman was always one to do the unexpected.

"I don't suppose it would help if I admit that I don't exactly recall most of what happened that night."

"It definitely doesn't assist your case in a positive way," she agreed. "But I like to think I'm a fair judge when it comes to the mild transgressions of my grandson, even if they've been largely misguided in the past. So what happened? As much as I typically trust your brother, I'd be a downright fool to believe that happened at an afternoon rugby match."

Her sight gestured toward the slowly healing cut on his lower lip and Killian tested the tender wound with a slight scrape of his teeth. It didn't hurt much anymore, but the frustration he still felt regarding the whole ordeal made him wonder just what sort of scar might remain afterward.

He realized silently that it might not be the sort that would merely mar his dashing good looks.

"I guess the fight started with Will Scarlet's thoughtlessly intoxicated mouth and ended with me stepping in when I shouldn't have," Killian started, glancing out over the darkened palace grounds. "It all got out of hand quicker than I expected it to, but when the insults directed toward our lineage started getting tossed about, I guess I just….had to do something."

"Ah, defensive to a slightly reckless degree then," she smirked. "I'd ask what was said, but I'm sure it's not anything I haven't heard before. I appreciate you being protective, Killian, but would I be wrong to say that I don't think this whole thing is about last night?"

He scoffed quietly, shaking his head in a light fashion. The night was already quite lightless, but she'd still somehow picked up on the presence of some underlying cause. It didn't surprise him all that much - his grandmother was intuitive to an almost unfair degree.

"I don't know what else it could be about," he lied teasingly, lifting an eyebrow in deflection. "Just that Irish temper you know."

"It's hardly fair to blame your late grandfather's heritage for such an outlandish evening, but I can take a hint I guess," she told him in return. "So I'll just say this - we both know I appreciate you doing your royal duty of keeping things interesting around here, but I'm merely going to request that you do so when I'm in the country, dear. Observing from a distance isn't nearly as timely, even with the news circulating through social media so rapidly."

"Ah," Killian said, silently grateful for her mercy. "Does this mean you've gotten the hang of Twitter while overseas?"

"I'm afraid the feud between that bird and myself is ongoing and I'll likely end up hiring someone to sort it out for me soon enough," she sighed with a small smile. "But I'd appreciate it if you'd be willing to lighten the publicity workload for a bit. It would be nice not to have to issue a statement on anything for a little while."

Killian let out a light breath of respite as he watched her gaze soften. He knew he'd never fully understand just why the woman with an unmatched sovereignty always tended toward leniency with him, but the hint of sympathy in her expression reminded him that he didn't need to comprehend it - he needed to be thankful for it. His grandmother had every right to scold him above and beyond everyone else, but once again, she was choosing not to. The tender grace in the moment was comforting and he nodded firmly in agreement.

"That's more like it," she grinned, patting his leg. "I ought to get inside I suppose. Your father is probably about ready to send out the corgis in pursuit of me if Liam hasn't done so already. You'll be along soon I trust?"

"Aye," he promised, helping her to her feet and kissing her cheek. "Good to have you back, Gran."

"Yeah, yeah," she bantered with a wave of her hand. "We'll see if you still feel that way once I put you to work."

"Oh?"

"I'd say it's about time for something new," she replied, considering him quietly. "Stop by garden lake tomorrow morning around nine and for lord's sake, make sure you do something about that hair on your face. I'm quite sure your brother might know where to get it trimmed up - or removed entirely, if you're open to my preference."

"A trim it is then," Killian countered with a clever grin. "See you then, Gran."

A quick wink was her only reply as she moved toward the doorway. Killian decided he'd find clarification on just what that little taunt meant later before he checked the time on the shiny silver watch he'd recently acquired, noting that his little segment of solitude was likely nearing its end. He knew he'd be expected to be present for Liam's welcome speech and his grandmother's remarks, both of which would probably be underway in roughly twenty minutes or so. Reaching back into his jacket pocket, he fumbled around for the metal flask he'd stowed there earlier. Surely a quick dose of rum would make him more amenable in regards to playing spare for a few more hours.

"Ugh, damn shoes…."

He'd barely uncapped the metallic container when he realized he wasn't alone in a search for temporary solace. The not quite casual sentiment was voiced in a bit of a breathless tone from the courtyard. The soft gasp that followed made him almost sure it wasn't meant to be heard by anyone, but it had gathered his attention despite his previous determination to ignore anything but the concealed libation he was hoping to drink. Killian rocked on his heels a bit before he moved toward the railing with a careful stride, his neck craning to see what was causing the noise from the enclosed area below.

His eyes widened fast before squinting back into focus and his heart quickened, its gentle beat suddenly keeping time with the clicking of shoes that weren't his as he leaned on the engraved barricade in concentration. Killian shook his head once, checking for some sort of a daze as he reminded himself that his view wasn't the work of an alcohol addled brain. Pressing his lips together in a fine line, he stared ahead with little disappointment that his plan to hide out hadn't been foiled by the Queen alone.

No, there was someone else who was apparently looking for the same breath of fresh air he'd been in search of - and she was much more unanticipated than anyone else who could have found him stowing away outside.

Her slow moving and rather intriguing figure was unusually easy to spot despite the lack of daylight in the open space just one flight below where he was standing. Killian's free hand rested gently on the smooth stone balustrades he'd clung to many times over the course of his royal upbringing as he watched her. It should have been more difficult to see in such concealed circumstances, but his curious eyes endeavored to take in the details of the woman who was some sort of stranger to a place he knew far too well. She didn't appear lost but merely stranded in a way he immediately understood and his brow knit as he tried to figure out why he was so instantly labeling her as a kindred spirit. She didn't seem like a royal and he was somehow positive they hadn't met before.

No, he'd remember a girl like this one. The strangely hypnotic sight of her made him sure of that.

It didn't take a keen observer to realize she was completely captivating, but a man with a watchful eye is certainly what she tempted him to be. Her hair was blonde and it tumbled down her back in waves that told a story he didn't know but longed to hear while several strands framed the face he wished he had a better view of. Her dress wasn't over the top - a feat to be admired after the various fashions he'd seen at these events - and the white material clung delicately to her slender body from her shoulders down to the cobblestones and concrete. The pattern it created along her arms and around her collar was harder to decipher beneath the cover of night, but he knew it completed the simple gown elegantly. They didn't typically encourage event guests to explore the courtyard without proper security close by, but Killian was struggling to be annoyed by this particular breach of the rules.

He'd come to the balcony for a few moments of nothing before expectation pushed him back into his second place role. He'd been hoping for some of that rare silence he managed to attain once in awhile and perhaps a quick drink to soothe the demons deep in his soul, but here he was instead - a man with unknown company in the form of this girl and her sense of subtle rebellion.

It didn't take long for him to realize that he had questions - ones that might take more boldness than he'd find inside of his flask. The thought had barely prodded him when he suddenly lost his option of alcohol as the suddenly slippery container tipped off the railing and dropped to the solid ground below with a faint clang.

Dammit, he scolded himself silently as a rush of hot embarrassment filled his cheeks. So much for grace and good form.

"Son of a b-...I mean, uh," a quavering yet sweet voice started, the sound of pure curiosity meeting his ears. "Is….someone up there?"

Killian slumped slightly, his posture pulling him back out of sight a moment as conflict filled his head. He knew she was looking for him - or well, someone - with what were surely very focused eyes. He could feel the silent burn of her searching as he took a slow breath and adjusted his hold on the firm stone barrier. His palms pressed flat against the granite as his eyebrows furrowed and the reminder of who he was sunk back in, putting a pause on the nervousness his clumsy move had created.

Nervous? Why was he nervous?

Sure, he'd made a slight fool of himself even if he did remain unseen and perhaps he'd been staring a bit too long. He wasn't exactly being the gentleman he knew he could be, but Killian soon recalled one fact that shoved him back into a realm of cocky confidence.

He was a prince - one with a respected connection to the building surrounding them - and she was the one who was very much out of bounds. He didn't exactly have to be a gentleman in this case.

"I, uh….sorry, lass," he said as he straightened himself and cleared his throat quietly. "I didn't mean to startle you."

She peered up at him with the most beautiful sense of bewilderment he'd ever seen, her lips quirking up into a stunned smirk that faded as fast as it had arrived and her eyes fell upon him cautiously. Killian didn't know a simple look like the one she was offering could make his pulse pound and his mind race chaotically, but as he looked down to where she was waiting, he found himself distracted by every detail she possessed.

She'd removed her shoes - well, one of them anyway - and the dark heel had been dangling from her fingers while she was walking. He wondered a moment if her uneven footwear was the cause of the annoyed exclamation that had first alerted him to her presence and he mused slightly at the idea of her being an actual Cinderella type.

He retracted the idea almost immediately however. She didn't really seem like a typical princess - or at least she definitely wasn't like the ones he'd met before.

"Oh, you….you didn't," she fibbed in a rather unconvincing fashion. "I just didn't think….anyone else would be out here."

"Oh - well, I'd dare say our state of surprise in that area is….equal," he returned, his shoulders relaxing as he slipped back into his charming routine. "With the exception of you being down there rather than up here, lass."

"Can't really blame me though," she told him with a gesture toward the platform he'd been using as a hideout. "Kind of a highlight of this place, isn't it?"

"I suppose it's somewhat of a sight to behold, though typically palace visitors aren't encouraged to be out here without staff - and almost never at night."

"Oh, I didn't….know," she stammered with a glance toward the glass covered entryway. "I guess I should have realized-"

"Oh - no, it's okay, lass," he cut in with a voice of understanding. "I….won't tell."

Killian felt his stomach flip flop the moment the reassurance left his lips. He wasn't sure where the need to keep some menial secret came from, but he couldn't deny that he liked the idea of the small connection it build between them. He knew he should prompt her to head inside - it may have even been his royal duty to do so. Yet as he watched her conflicted position, he decided that wasn't the route he was about to take.

He wanted to see just how this spontaneous encounter was about to play out, even if it meant bending the regal code just a bit.

"Something about that decision makes me think maybe you're not supposed to be out here either," she concluded with a tilt of her head, her words making him nearly drop his suave facade. "How'd you even get up there?"

He had managed his stealthy escape to the balcony by way of the knowledge he'd gathered over the years, his feet well aware of just which staircases to climb and what doors to slip through. He mulled her question over as he wondered if confessing his title and the information that came with it was wise.

Maybe not, he decided silently. As much as he wanted to know more about her, he knew putting himself on a pedestal probably wouldn't invite her to be honest. It wasn't that he planned on lying, but rather just….not offering her the whole truth. His teeth toyed with his tongue as he convinced himself that it was the fair road to take.

After all, he'd likely never see her again once they left this conversation behind.

"All about who you know I guess," he said vaguely, leaning forward a little. "So what brings you out here?"

"Oh, I….well, I just-" she tried with a soft exhale. "-I guess I'm not really fond of this sort of thing."

"The gala or your current chat with the stranger on the balcony?"

She laughed lightly, a sound that suddenly drew his mouth into an amused smile. He bit back the reaction almost instantly while hoping she hadn't noticed. The surrounding night plus his higher position had given Killian some kind of interesting upper hand and he decided it was best to hold onto it.

"Royal gatherings in general I guess," she explained. "I was just hoping to get some air before the formal stuff starts. I'm guessing you're doing the same?"

"Something like that," he chuckled as he tried to maintain his masquerade of mystery. "I'm not much for this stuff either."

"So you're not a Navy guy?"

"Can't say that I am," he divulged. "I'm afraid it does run in the family though."

"Mine too - well, at least with my dad. He kind of coerced me into attending the ceremony tonight."

Killian tilted his head a fraction, studying her slim outline in inquiry. He hadn't pondered the thought that she was there for such an rational reason. He knew it was mostly because he'd been so consumed with his own misery, but it seemed like she was very much in the same boat - pun not at all intended.

"I guess I just….have a hard time with this whole 'hanging out with royalty concept'," she continued with a sigh. "No offense to tradition, but the whole system of crowns and thrones just feels a bit archaic."

Killian felt his stance go rigid as he absorbed her slight accusation. It was quickly obvious that she didn't know who he was and he wondered what else he might tempt her to say - a chivalrous approach be damned. It wasn't fair to do what he was considering, but his curiosity was too strong to brush off.

"Aye, definitely can be it seems," he agreed with a bit of smugness. "Pretentious for sure - maybe even with a little entitlement. You've met them I take it? The Royal family?"

He waited anxiously for her answer, his wondering as to whether she'd crossed paths with his father or Cora or even Liam making him simmer with an underlying emotion he couldn't pinpoint. He couldn't explain why he cared about what she'd been up to, but his desire to hear about what she'd been immersed in while inside was tangled up in a need to know.

"Just briefly," she answered. "The older son of the heir only though. He's actually a genuinely nice guy from what I could gather - he knew my dad."

It was difficult to ignore that strange pang of something in his stomach, but Killian tried to do so as he tapped his fingers on the railing. He knew later he'd probably think more about just how this mystery girl and his brother had met, but for now, he had more inquiries to resolve.

"Ah, I'm sure he is," Killian countered with an evasive curiosity. "Didn't run into his brother though?"

"Prince….Killian or something, right? No, I didn't," she answered, her voice curling around his name in a way that fascinated him. "I'm not even sure if he even decided to attend this thing tonight."

Killian shifted on the heels of his new shoes as he mused at her conclusion. There was an impulse to react, but he fought back his instincts as he decided to prod her a little more. What she'd surely say was probably not anything he hadn't been labeled as before, but his defenses lifted while he found a response.

"Yeah, he doesn't really seem like the type for a formal affair like this," he fibbed. "What led you to that particular verdict though?"

"Well, you just hear things….and read things."

Of course she'd fallen victim to the somewhat true and false reports he'd stacked up in those several years between his gap year and Sandhurst - possibly even a few tales from his younger and very cavalier life as well. While she had every right to make the same assumptions others did, Killian found himself slightly irritated that she'd done so.

After all, she didn't know him - and they'd never even met as far as she knew.

"I suppose he's something of a wild card," he retorted evenly. "Kind of the black sheep from what one can tell. You've got to wonder what drives that rebellion of his."

"Can't say I know much about him, but I'd doubt it's rebellion as drastic as drinking on the Buckingham balcony," she teased as she leaned down to retrieve his dropped flask. "I don't think even a guy who kinda owns this place would be that bold. I'm surprised you are."

Killian smiled, trying to shove aside the slightly jabbing feel of that guilty thorn in his side. He briefly pondered the idea of calling her on her vague judgements, but she did know his name - and maybe there was a chance she would match his face to the moniker as well. He wasn't ready to risk that, but as he felt the air thicken, he summoned another idea.

Turnabout's fair play, he decided as his tongue lingered on his bottom lip.

"Maybe not," he started smoothly. "But I suppose it's only fair I get to know name of the woman who plans to turn me in?"

"It doesn't seem that fair actually," she replied, her hand still holding tight to the flask. "You haven't told me yours."

A couple of different possibilities - or rather, tiny lies - ran through his mind as tried to pick the path of least destruction. The truth wasn't an option and the ticking minutes weren't about to allot him much more time to entertain his anonymity. He couldn't leave her without an answer though.

The question of how he was supposed to go about telling this girl about his all too formal identity wasn't about to fade away, but an answer he could deem suitable wasn't within grasp. Killian pressed his lips together in consideration as frustration built a dilemma between them. How exactly do you go about casually divulging that you're one of the two princes the world knows rather well?

You don't, he thought in silent resolution - so he wasn't going to.

"I'm….nobody too important, love," he finally said, cowardice taking hold of his tone. "But you-"

His deflecting statement was suddenly cut short by the sound of distant applause, the sort that beckoned him back inside with a twinge of warning. Killian felt his nerves liven as he looked quickly at his watch only to find how late he was. Only about five minutes - but his brother was still definitely going to kill him.

"I guess that's a cue," she told him, a half smile tugging cleverly at her lips. "For me, at least."

"Aye, it seems so," he agreed as he tried to cling to a few more seconds of whatever this was. "Good luck in there - and sorry for….infringing on your escape. I suppose we can keep each other's secret, right?"

"I guess we should," she assured him as she battled with her shoe once more. "The company wasn't too bad actually though so….thanks for that."

He smirked quietly as he found he couldn't manage to disagree. He hadn't told her much of anything - not many of the actual facts, of course - but his side of the conversation wasn't full of complete dishonesty. He wasn't a man of great importance, especially in terms of this particular evening. She hadn't been wrong about him and his avoiding ways either. It hardly mattered though - this wasn't anything but two isolated ships passing on a rather dull night.

"Hey, umm," she said with a inquiry heavy on her breath. "This isn't the part where you kidnap me for ransom or something when I try to return to the palace, right? Because I don't really have much to offer in the way of royal riches."

He perked up slightly at the sound of good humored and possibly somewhat concerned question. His heart seemed quicken a bit as kept her stare trained on him. There was a cleverness to this girl he'd never planned on meeting and he let a smile slowly encompass his lips as they soaked in the last few moments of their bantering conversation.

"Wasn't planning on it," he laughed lightly. "I've got a few other things to attend to, fortunately for you."

"Okay, good….and in that case-" she replied with a small pause. "It's Emma. I'm Emma, I mean."

Blinking lazily, Killian gave the letters a second to rearrange themselves in his head. He watched the night carefully conceal the slender shape of the the girl who'd become a little less of an enigma with the breath of that single name.

"Emma," he repeated to himself with a surreal smirk.

For a night meant to be shrouded in defeated dread, it was sure shaping up to be strangely victorious.

Killian found himself immediately distracted as he moved through the grandiose doors and back into the packed ballroom. He wasn't totally sure how many attendees had been slated for the evening's festivities, but certainly hadn't prepared to see quite this many. The majority of the guests were men - both decorated sailors and other government officials alike - and the presence of heroic medals adorned with the utmost valor was staggering. It seemed that most of them had arrived alongside a companion and the mix of well dressed wives and dolled up girlfriends instantly made him wonder.

Where had she gone?

He'd been tempted to follow her inside the moment she left his sight and perhaps intercept her trek back toward the main stage, but retrieving his flask from the statue base where she'd left it was a more necessary task to undertake. He couldn't chance leaving unattended alcohol near such a popular point of the palace grounds, especially because he knew it might be traced back to him given his recent bout with the stuff. He'd ducked outside fast once more upon reaching the lower level, snatching the container and slipping it back into his jacket with haste. It was tempting to linger there in an effort to take in the same air she'd been breathing only moments earlier, but the vibration of his phone as it nearly fell out of his opposite pocket was a reminder that someone was surely irritated with his absence - and it didn't take a bloody scholar to figure out just who.

"Dammit, Killian," Liam hissed, grabbing his arm as they met to the side of the presentation platform. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"Take it easy, Liam," he bit back, shaking off his sibling's hold. "I said I'd be here and I'm here. Right on time too so don't get your knickers in a bind."

The queen's opening words were well underway and Killian focused on her presence for a moment. She never failed to make leadership look so properly effortless, her etiquette perfect as ever as she vocalized her gratitude for the service of the Navy men and the sacrifices they made. He'd always loved watching his grandmother speak and the fact that Liam was so determined to interrupt his listening was annoying on a level only his older brother could manage.

"I am quite sure it's not me who's about to be a little frantic," Liam said in a hushed tone as he shoved a crisp note card toward him. "You've been recruited to help."

Killian narrowed his eyes in confusion before his sight fell to the thick paper he'd just been handed. The flawless speech his grandmother was delivering became a dull mumble in his ears as he processed what was scrawled in perfect penmanship his stare battled with.

No, he thought as his heartbeat faltered a bit. No, no, no.

"Hey, calm down," Liam said, clapping him on the shoulder as he sensed the multiplying waves of anxiety crashing into the room. "She just wants you to say a bit - welcome a few people is all. Then it's all me, brother."

The whole thing should be you, Killian thought with a hard swallow. He had barely been able to coax himself through the palace doors earlier and now it was being requested that he take the space behind the podium for a few simple lines.

Well, they'd be simple for anyone else - the Queen, his older brother, probably even his ill father - but the tension in his body and the numbness of his tongue told him this was not going to be any sort of easy. When it came to public speaking, 'simple' wasn't in the cards for him.

"Once again, we are elated to have each and every one of you here this evening to celebrate all you do in the service of our country," Gran said with a formal farewell tone before glancing toward the pair of them. "Before we continue celebrating our guests receiving high honors, my grandsons have a brief message they would like to share. I ask you to welcome them not only as wonderful representatives of the throne but also as fellow servicemen. I know their gratitude certainly ranks alongside my own. Without further ado, two of our royal Captains I'm delighted to have here tonight - Liam and Killian of Wales, representing the Royal Navy and the British Army respectively."

The applause in the large room was deafening enough to drown out the anxiousness flowing through Killian's veins as he followed his older brother up the few steps to where their quick speech would commence. He was loathe to look up over the seemingly endless crowd as Liam adjusted the microphone and put on his most charming smile. The heir in him was obvious as he vocalized his prepared words smoothly, his confidence never wavering as the blur of faces looked on. He'd always had a way with commanding attention while still inviting adoration.

That trait had skipped over Killian and replaced itself with the handsome but slight arrogance he was trying to muster as Liam nodded, beckoning him closer.

"We are, uh, beyond grateful to have such an esteemed audience here this evening. Each of you sacrifice and strive to….make our country a better, safer place," Killian started, hoping he wasn't mimicking his brother too obviously - it wasn't like he'd been paying attention. "We are thrilled to welcome back to service several men who've….who've risked more for our citizens and sovereign than could ever be expected."

Catching Gran's hopeful smile followed by Liam's steadying gaze nearly sent him into autopilot, his remaining speech hazy and his hands still trembling by the time his brother took over again. Liam's short biographies for the handful of honorable attendees the royal family was recognizing sounded faintly in his ears as he scanned the crowd. He was too busy trying to calm his shaken spirit to realize just what he was scouring the silent group of people for - until he found it.

Well, until he spotted her, of course - and lord, she was even more curiously captivating beneath the low lighting encircling them.

He nearly missed it - a fast flash of shock and knowing drifting over her features as their gazes fused quietly. It was a war he suddenly felt destined to lose so he could gain something even he didn't understand and his brain fought like mad to recall the name she'd left him with. It was a task of quick deduction, but not one that completely drowned out his brother's resumed introductory sentences.

"We feel especially advantageous on this particular evening to extend a hand to one of our most respected leaders of the armed forces - Admiral David Nolan, a man who had truly braved a variety of treacherous waters in order to be here with us now," Liam carried on as Killian held onto the stare of the graceful woman adorned in a pale lace dress. "We feel beyond fortunate for his presence and wish to offer a warm welcome to the supportive family he has joining him tonight-"

Killian took in the nervous sight of her as she glanced sideways, the breaking of their eye contact making his eyes follow hers. It wasn't difficult to piece it all together, even with the view of the woman he'd spent the evening fixated on. Killian's stomach sunk slowly as he watched the Admiral being recognized - pristine blue uniform, proud stance, an expression that seemed emotional as well as grateful all at once, and the accompanying grace of a dark haired woman at his side. There was another notable presence in close proximity to the honored couple - the one of the unknown girl who'd tilted his regal world slightly off its axis only a fraction of time ago.

Not possible, Killian told himself as realization slammed into him.

"-Mrs. Mary Margaret Nolan and their daughter, Emma."

Everything seemed to freeze in place as her wide eyes beamed with recognition, the moment of them placing one another much more intense than either could have planned on. Bloody hell, Killian thought as Liam's sudden elbow to his ribs pried his gaze away from hers. Of course this would happen to him. Of course he'd end up in such awkward circumstances.

The beautiful blonde from the courtyard was the Admiral's daughter - and her current embarrassed expression confirmed that she knew exactly who he was.

Tagging some lovely folks: @xpumpkindumplingx, @themmaswan, @harryandthecambridges, @spartanguard, @eala-captian, @allietumbles, @kmomof4, @laschatzi, @galadriel26, @timeless-love-story, @lifeinahole27, @kat2609, @msres, @captainswanismyendgame, @lovelycssefan, @hooksheroicheart, @captain-odonoghue, @gonzothegreat90, @cat-sophia, @rebelcxptain, @prairiepirate, @yesplskillianjones, @jennjenn615, @xhookswenchx, @heomomka, @fckyesroyals, @lenfazreads, @cherrywolf713, @lucasxdorothy, @hollyethecurious, @fairytalesandtimetravel, @lillyanjones, @pirateherokillian, @shipsxahoy, @phiralovesloki, @jscoutfinch *Just send me a message if you’d like a tag in future chapters :)