#royalty story

[starcyri]

Continuation of

THE WITCH AND THE PRINCESS

By: StarCyri

(Final Part)

Years had past since then, The Princess and the young witch’s friendship grew stronger, but not without rumors surrounding them, one may say that the young witch must be tricking the poor princess, others say that the young witch must have been planning something to ambush the whole kingdom, but of course those rumors are just rumors, Magnolia and Calytrix ignored those rumors, instead they remain good friends...or are they? After all years had past, they looked different, Calytrix, now has a purple dress and a witch hat, her dress resembles a flower, and hair tied into twin braids, her Lavender eyes still shine as bright as stars, and Magnolia now wears a white dress, which also resembles a flower, an elegant flower at best, she wears a Southern Magnolia flower accessory in her hair, her hair was also braided, just not into two, and her eyes still resembles a healthy leaf, and now they are almost 18, both Magnolia and

Calytrix looked at eachother, like it was different from their childhood, it felt different, they... they seem in denial of their feelings yet they brushed it off.

But they have at least people who are there to support them...until suddenly at the day of Magnolia’s Coronation, an incident occured, no one seems to know why but The King and Queen suddenly fell very ill, which paused the Coronation, both of the King and Queen were both weak, and unable to even move, many doctors have tried to heal them had failed, and even both Zinnia and Calytrix tried to heal them, but there was nothing they could do, but in the last attempt to save the King and Queen, Zinnia sets off far from the kingdom, to get a special potion to cure their illness, but..the day came where the King and Queen died by the illness, the whole Kingdom was in despair by what was supposed to be the time where Magnolia gets crowned, ended up being a tragedy.

Magnolia, trapped herself in her room, sobbed as she received the news of her parents passing, right besides her was Calytrix, patting her hair gently, trying to comfort her dearest.

“Why... Why must they die now..? the people still need them- I still need them!” Magnolia cried out, as she clings to Calytrix, Calytrix says nothing as she only gently brushes Magnolia’s white hair, both embraced each other in this tragic moment, never letting go anytime soon.

“It will be alright, White Flower” Calytrix tried reassuring “How can you be so sure? Star Flower...?” Magnolia replied, sniffling against the young witch “I’m not sure, but.. I’m sure we can get this through together, you, can get through this, your parents after all... they... they know your strong, capable of being a ruler” Calytrix softly says, cupping Magnolia’s cheeks, wiping her tears away.

“And... your the strongest princess I have known, and.. that ‘s why.. I lov-” before Calytrix could continue, a knock on the door was heard, neither Magnolia and Calytrix seem to want to get up and check who it was, but it was Magnolia’s duty anyway to get it, after all someone was knocking at her room, Magnolia hesitantly stood up and got up to open the door, as the door opens, she locked eyes with the same envy colored eyes, it was the Gardener boy, Hyacinth

“I must apologize for intruding your time your highness, but really I just want to say I’m very sorry for your loss, if you want someone to cry or someone wanting to listen to you, I’m here for you” Hyacinth says, it wasn’t the first time anyways that he had tried to make advances on the Princess several times in the past, and Magnolia always politely

brushed him off, she doesn’t really...feel comfortable around him, but maybe this time she’ll let this slide, not his offer though, just a change of heart of maybe finally opening up to him , after all he seemed genuine.

“Thank you for the kind offer, Hyacinth, I’ll maybe take that offer if Calytrix isn’t around to help with me” Magnolia closed her eyes lets out a slightly sad chuckle, getting the mood a bit up, but once she opened her eyes once more, she does not see Hyacinth smiling, instead he looked serious, which made Magnolia concerned.

“What’s the matter, Hyacinth?” Magnolia asked “Well... excuse my rudeness Princess but why speak highly of the witch? For all we know she can be the reason why your parents fell ill, you know how witches are, they are tricksters” Hyacinth replied with a serious tone, after Hyacinth said that, Magnolia’s heart dropped, “...How dare you question my friendship with her” Magnolia says, with a hint of anger in her tone, but Hyacinth continued on.

“Oh I apologize your highness but, you must agree what I have just said, that friend of yours is a witch, witches are known to be the most despicable, tricking their victims even if it-”

“She is NOT tricking me, Hyacinth Yellow, out of all your years here, you should know by now that Calytrix isn’t like that, even the King and Queen knows she isn’t like that! Calytrix.. Calytrix is my dearest companion! I demand an apology right now!” Magnolia cuts off Hyacinth, expressing her anger, now Calytrix, hearing her dearest friend’s anger tone, rushes to Magnolia “Is everything alright?” Calytrix asked, her face expressed in worry, but before Magnolia could answer her, Hyacinth bowed down.

“I apologize for saying such rude and sensitive things to your highness, especially during the time of your grieving, please allow me to make it up by a tea time afternoon with the finest tea” Both Calytrix and Magnolia looked at the kneeling gardener, Calytrix expressed pity

“Magnolia.. Maybe you should forgive him, after all, it is understandabl-”

“For many times I have said this, this is not acceptable Calytrix, you are my dearest companion and I cannot allow slander upon your name” Magnolia cuts off Calytrix, but continues “but this time I will forgive you, Hyacinth, carry on with your job, and tomorrow afternoon I’ll take up your offer with tea” right after Magnolia accepted Hyacinth’s offer, he immediately thanked Magnolia, completely ignoring Calytrix and carrying on with his job.

Calytrix could only sigh, she looked at her friend, who was obviously still mad at the interaction “You did not have to defend me once more Magnolia..” and Magnolia replied with “But they were slandering you! Of course I had to do something! And of course they were bothering me anyways while I was grieving! Out of all days he says that...” as words spilled in Magnolia’s mouth, so did tears spill in her eyes, “Out of..” words trailed off from Magnolia, as she broke down into sobs, Calytrix quickly went to her side, and immediately comfort her, once again, they embraced.

The next day came, Magnolia was sitting in the Tea room, she was a mess, her eyes were dark and puffy, and her figure was slump, she looked like a wilted Southern Magnolia Flower, she was waiting for what Hyacinth called, “The Finest Tea” she waited patiently, and there came Hyacinth, holding a tray of a tea set and biscuits

“I Hope I did not make you wait for long, Princess”

“You did not, Thank you for the tea, Hyacinth” Magnolia softly smiles at him, while Hyacinth smiles back, as he placed the tray in the tea table, Hyacinth stood there, but Magnolia gestured him to sit down, he was hesitant at first, but nevertheless, sat down comfortably.

“I apologize for such horrid words I have said yesterday, I just..” before Magnolia could continue, Hyacinth shook his head “No, it was clear it was my fault for saying insensitive words while you were grieving, I should have minded my words” Hyacinth says, but that made Magnolia sigh, there was no signs of him apologizing for saying horrible things about Calytrix “You seem to have forgotten another thing you have to apologize, listen Hyacinth, I could tell that you are a great man, but you have to understand that not all witches are bad, take Auntie Zinnia and Calytrix for example, they have not harmed people in here, and I doubt they ever will” as Magnolia says that, she drinks her tea, the tea tasted weird... she looked at Hyacinth to ask what was one of the tea’s ingredients, only to see him smile, not an innocent smile, he was grinning, which made Magnolia concerned and slightly nervous.

“I don’t actually believe you are right with that, Princess, witches are really terrible, in fact they have probably casted a spell against you and the late King and Queen, but don’t worry, your wondering why the tea tasted funny, because I made sure that tea you have is the reversal spell, where you can finally say the truth, Princess Magnolia” Hyacinth smiles sinisterly, it wasn’t a reversal spell, it’s obvious that it wasn’t any reversal spell, Calytrix or Zinnia would never, and Magnolia finally figured it out.

It was his plan from the start, to frame Calytrix.

“Now Princess, announce something for the whole Kingdom, tell them about Calytrix, your ‘dearest friend’ had tricked you, and murdered your parents”

Magnolia could not refuse Hyacinth’s demands anymore as her mind and body felt numb.

Calytrix was at Magnolia’s room, she sat on her bed and she seems to be making something... a Flower crown, specifically a Magnolia Flower Crown, Calytrix smiles as she made this, surely this could cheer up Magnolia just a little bit, right? Suddenly the door opens, Calytrix perked up.

“Oh! Your back! Magnolia look what I!-...I...” Calytrix words trailed, upon seeing Magnolia with Hyacinth and with two guards, Calytrix was confused upon seeing them, but nevertheless walked towards Magnolia “What’s wrong? Is there something that happened? Ah well- before anything though Magnolia, I have a gift for you!” immediately she presented the flower crown to Magnolia “Here! I know you haven’t felt- you know, happy in awhile but I made this to atleast cheer you up!” Calytrix continued to ramble on, and even placed the Flower on Magnolia’s hands, Calytrix didn’t seem to know what was going on.

A rip suddenly was heard, Calytrix stopped from her tracks as she sees Magnolia tearing her newly made Flower Crown, getting it destroyed piece by piece, each piercing Calytrix’s heart, that lead Calytrix unable to say anything.

“Arrest her, and cut off her hair.” Magnolia ordered, and two guards immediately pointed their weapons to Calytrix, who was too shocked and heartbroken to even react, her hair was cut, leaving Calytrix with a messy short hair, but before she could get taken away, Calytrix looked at Magnolia, with a betrayed face.

“...Why...?”

Was Calytrix’s word before being taken away, Magnolia only stared with no emotion, while right beside her was a man, patting her hair softly, telling her that she’s doing the right thing, but really, Magnolia could feel her tears inside of her.

Calytrix was thrown into a dungeon, she did not bother using her magic to escape, she could even if her hair was cut short, but she was sad and confused, she didn’t know what she did wrong to make Mangonlia angry, she pondered hard, trying to think of something, anything, hours pass and suddenly the dungeon opened and there goes Magnolia, with two guards, Hyacinth was no where to be seen, but it was Calytrix’s chance to ask what she did wrong.

“Magnolia! Please tell me what I have done wrong!? I-I don’t understand! I-I thought we were friends!-” Calytrix asked. “You tricked me, that’s what, you murdered my parents” Magnolia replied. “Tricked..? M-Murdered?- Magnolia, both you and I know I didn’t and would never do that!-” Calytrix says with a hurt tone. “That’s what you say, but your lying, I just know it. After all your a witch anyways, I should have never befriended you.” that... that broke Calytrix, the hope and light in her eyes die down as her only true friend, and the woman she loved, see her as a monster.

“...”

“We have decided your fate for punishment of tricking me and murdering The King and Queen, you will be executed in three days, surely that is enough time for you to think through your actions.” Magnolia turned away, as Calytrix stared blankly at her, once Magnolia was out of the dungeon, Calytrix’s tears fell, and then she sobbed and laid on the cold dirty dungeon floor.

‘So this was it? This is my punishment for being alive..? For being a witch...? For even hoping... why, why does everyone punish me for no reason..?’ Calytrix continued on sobbing ‘after all we’ve been together, you did not give me a chance to even say or defend myself.. Do you hate me that much..? What did I do to make you hate me now? I only just wanted to give you my love, my everything, you, you were my everything. And even everything, you still are, I still love you.’ memories filled Calytrix like a broken record, even after all of that she never blamed anyone, especially Magnolia for this.

The day of the execution came, in the fields where Calytrix and her aunt lived was the location of the execution, many people gathered around, wanting to see the young witch burn, many people were overjoyed that the young witch was finally getting what she “deserved”.

Magnolia sat down while Hyacinth was standing right next to her, they were also watching Calytrix’s execution, no emotions were going on her face, as Calytrix was tied up, Calytrix looked like a mess, she looked like she was beaten up in the past 3 days, her hair was cut short, and her dress was changed from the purple dress to a white dirty

dress, Calytrix looked down, not showing her face to anyone, the crowd looked at the young witch with hatred and disgust.

“BURN HER ALREADY!!”

“PUNISH HER FOR HER CRIMES!!”

“SHE MUST PAY!!”

The kingdom’s people yelled out, hatred had filled their hearts, not even pity, they even threw stuff at her, but that didn’t seem to make Calytrix flinch anymore or wince in pain.

“BURN THE WITCH! BURN THE WITCH! BURN THE WITCH!” The people chanted

“...Burn her” Magnolia ordered, and the fire started, slowly burning Calytrix, but before the flames could overtake Calytrix, she finally raised her head, despite her beaten up face, instead of seeing despair in her eyes, Calytrix’s eyes shine bright once again.

Ba-dump.

Magnolia’s eyes widened.

Ba-dump, Ba-dump.

Calytrix smiled brightly despite the pain.

Ba-dump, Ba-dump, Ba-dump.

Calytrix mouthed something for Magnolia.

........

Tears fell down Magnolia’s cheeks, as finally, the spell was broken. What has she done?..

Magnolia screams.

It’s been a year since that incident, no one in the kingdom would believe her that Calytrix didn’t do anything, they could only see Hyacinth as the hero and the rightful King in the kingdom, Magnolia was forced to marry the man who had killed and framed the love of her life, she was Queen, and he was King, she couldn’t even look Zinnia in the eye when she came back after Calytrix’s execution, Magnolia has never seen her again since that day, Magnolia just sat on her throne room, spacing out, she was truly a mess, especially the fact that she, was carrying a child on the way, she remembered what Calytrix had mouthed, it wasn’t anything to make the spell disappear, no, the spell had a time limit, Calytrix last words, or well whispered, was ‘I love you, Magnolia’...she had wondered what her life would have been like if it wasn’t for Hyacinth, maybe..-

“Your Majesty” a guard enters the throne room and greets Magnolia “What do you want now” said the Queen bitterly, The knight just nervously stood there, but nevertheless replied “There seems to be a new species of Flowers appearing right by the place where The Star Flower Witch Calytrix lived and died at” now that caught Magnolia’s attention.

“New species?.. Take me to it now.” “Yes ma’am!”

Magnolia and her guards traveled around where Calytrix used to live, with Magnolia’s permission from her husband who could care less right now, she can visit the flower and name them, Magnolia could feel something heavy in her heart, after all, this used to be her dearly beloved’s home, and.. Where she died as they ventured on, finally they could see the field, and they were right, a new species of flowers bloomed, but..The Flower looked, unique, surely it definitely looks pretty, but it looked like a star, that reminds the Queen something.

‘Calytrix.’

Magnolia knelt down to one of the flowers, it seems like the available colors of the flowers were, Lavender or Violet, Pink, White, and Yellow, she chuckles to herself as she remembered what Calytrix had told her when they were in their teens

“You know, if I die I wonder if I’ll become the prettiest flower there is...ah well I bet I will be!” Calytrix giggles

“Now why would you think of something like that?” Magnolia asked, concerned.

“Eh..I don’t know, I just..Think, hey I bet I’ll be like a star shaped flower if I die!” Calytrix smiled brightly

“Stop talking about dying...” Magnolia covers her ears.

“Your Majesty, what would you like to call this new Flower?” a guard asked curiously.

Magnolia got up and closed her eyes as the wind blew gently around her, she then looked at the guards and said.

“Calytrix, This Flower’s name is officially Calytrix.”

END

—————

Author’s note:

Hey! Yeah— told y’all the ending’s rushed, unless you guys think it’s not? Ah well, thank you for reading though! I do apologize for the tragic ending, like I said on the previous post, the story is tragic, this was a school project I’ve done months ago, writing a short story with the genres I’ve blindly picked, and I’ve picked fairytale, Romance, and finally a version of drama that I couldn’t remember, apologies, though this was fun to write as I remember! So please if you have any criticisms with my writing or the story please do tell! Also please be respectful about it too, thank you! I hope you all enjoyed this story, until then, I’ll post again next time :]

[tossawary]

On one hand, I am a firm believer in "just start writing a fictional story without hard research if that's what it takes to get the first draft down, mistakes can be fixed in future drafts". On the other hand, I am also a firm believer in cultivating the reflex of "hang on, I don't really know what that means, let me at least go skim the Wikipedia page right now to make sure I'm headed in the right direction here".

Sometimes, especially with original fiction that's presumably been professionally edited, obvious mistakes that are harmful can be infuriating, but I'm usually just amused whenever I encounter an author who clearly hasn't done research for the industry or skill that plays a central role in their story. If one of your main characters is an athlete, you should probably know the rules of that sport??? How its professional leagues work??? Maybe???

"Character A is a chef in a 5-star Michelin restaurant!" <- Michelin stars only go up to 3, bud. "Character B is a famous Michelin food critic!" <- Michelin reviewers are also famously anonymous, bud.

The easy fix for the above example is to just invent a fake food guide company for your story, with known reviewers and a system that goes up to 5 stars. Michelin Guides came out of a tire company and they're not infallible; they've received plenty of reasonable criticism over the years. If you know what Michelin stars actually are and where they came from, they can be modified and replaced in your fictional world's alternate universe to suit your purpose. Instead of you being very obviously misinformed about, uh, the basic facts of your setting in your own summary.

Does anyone have any memorable examples of "that's not how that works" experiences with fiction that have stuck with them?

[rjdent]

The Day Glaxo Visited the Queen, a new short story by R J Dent, is available to read here:

[thedarkestrivernymph]

A Heart Of Gold

Platonic! Y! Royal Child x Cruel/Uncaring! Royal! Mother! Reader x Y! Mistress! of cheating husband x Y! Brother in Law

-> part 2 here

word count: 11,5k (probably one of the lengthiest fics I have ever written haha)

warnings: mention of abuse (both verbal and physical), neglect, infidelity, unhealthy relationship dynamics, murderous thoughts, morally gray! reader, paranoia, harassment, unconsenual acts, kissing, mentions of death(s), killing, breakdowns/meltdowns, generational trauma, unhealthy mother/child dynamics, obsessive behaviour, classism, misogynistic views, homophobia, not completely accurate historical depictions!

©Copyright - 2025 - thedarkestrivernymph - All Rights Reserved

Author's note: Boy this got lengthy, still I hope you enjoy it! :) So let's dive into it, shall we?

“A heart of glass shatters, but a heart of gold melts into something newer and sturdier. Into something dangerous and menacing. It molds to a new life of cruelty, while the heart of glass is swept away, its pieces discarded and forgotten. I don't want to travel with the wind, fleet in one blink, I want to be reborn, experience freedom for the first time in my life. I want to have a heart of gold.”

Do you know the feeling of an itch that no matter how much you scratch, how incessant you drag your nails over that patch of skin, you can just never get rid of? That was motherhood, but worse.

For you, at least.

The life of a commoner was jarring, a constant battle for life, that most, no matter how hard they tried to intimidate, would never succeed in defeating. Most died young, early thirties or fourties, with nasty diseases of all kinds being the reason—and yet they always seemed so lively compared to nobility. The nobility with all of their masquerades and dramatics. They never were allowed to let the intricately crafted mask crack, even for a second, if they valued their life that is.

Perhaps that's why you had envied those mindless pigs most of your life—working away until their bones cracked and fell into themselves. That mindless devotion and that foul language they could use whenever they pleased, the sheer stupidity in believing in something higher and more valuable than the crown, was so vastly different to your own complex persona. Your life was quiet, filled with studying, tea-parties that never reached deeper than surface level of conversation and endless long nights where you would raise your gaze to the heavens above and just stare at the stars, as if the answers you desperately longed for were written in them.

You were like a man deprived of water, thirsting for something to quench your endless need for freedom. Any kind you could get your hands on, you clutched on—wether it was the question of if you maids were to dress you in blue or white or rather in violet and yellow, or something simple if you wanted to wander around in the gardens that day; you loved all these small luxuries. Even the pearls of your mother's, now hanging from your neck like heavy cobblestones on a string, felt nothing compared to the little escapades you were allowed. And the needle you were embroidering with in this old moaning manor pricking you gave you some semblance of joy, that at least in some shape or form there was something under your control.

Until even that had lost its taste—like your once most favoured dish that had reminded you of childhood in your youth, the fields, the servant's children that you would play with after repetitive lessons and so much more, one day none could comfort you anymore. As many others, you grew out of your juvenile thinking much too soon and in a way that was far too shattering of an experience.

Sweet seventeen and the marriage with the crown prince was held. You had known before, it was to be expected, you had anticipated the dreadful day when you would have to give up your freedom in exchange of legacy and reputation, yet actively knowing and actively being were two vastly different states one could experience. So as the princess you had been, you had bowed down to everyone in power; to your mother with her stern gaze and even harsher words, to your father with his cane as sharp as his gaze was, to the king of a different nation, you had only visited once in childhood who was nothing more than a distant memory at this point in time and lastly to your future husband, who would not reign yet, but still hold enough power to crush a small country with just his fist.

So you bore the stranger a child, one not out of love, but out of duty to the crown, to your family—to everyone who had invested in you as a powerful tool as the key to peace between two neighbouring kingdoms. “He’s pretty. His eyes are like mine,” were his first words upon seeing the crying infant still caked in blood with you drenched in your own sweat. The world had crumpled in that moment, only to rebuild itself a second time in your life as you remembered that nothing ever was out of love. Everything was done out of ego. At least concerning nobility and royalty. And you were royalty.

That’s when the curse had started—the deep loathing for something that didn’t deserve it.

“Mother!” you frowned, determined to keep your gaze on the embroidery in your hands.

“Mother!” another high-pitched cry and you swore a vein on your forehead was about to just pop open and deflate like a par of lungs you wanted to slice through with a scarpel.

You glanced at the door, counting the steps and sure enough it took the little demon thirty-two before bursting right in as always. “Mother! There you are— look, look mother! Misses has just taught me how to..” you tuned out after the second word, already feeling another headache bloom between your brows, subtly ushering your maid closer so that she could take care of the chaos. Ignoring the way the boy protested and cried as he was led out with the excuse that his dear mommy was tired and in need of rest.

That had been ten years ago—in fact you were just melodramatic and liked to revisit your past, thinking about how foolish you had been to ever belief love was more than a myth. Sighing you took another bite from your steak.

“Mother, have you heard? I won this year's tournament again.” the deep voice startled you.

“Oh, you have?” another bite and it would be over soon, another bite and you wouldn't have to talk any more than necessary.

“Yes mother, has father not informed you?” no, don't let your thoughts get bad, he didn't mean to mention his father.

“Mother, you and father haven't been talking much, have you now? How utterly disappointing. I had assumed that he at the very least would share my achievements with you, mother dear.” you were losing it again, because you could swear he was doing it on purpose, he was rubbing salt in your wound knowingly. No, no he wasn’t, you were just paranoid, instead why not focus on the flower motive on the egde of your plate or the rich red swirling in your cup or—

“Mother? You seem rather pale. Would you like me to call your maid?”

He isn’t doing it on purpose.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He didn't ask to be born, he was just here because he had to—as you were, as the worker ants and the pigs were, as the common folk were.

Just breathe.

“Mother—” no you couldn't just breathe.

Your fists slammed against the dinning table, causing silverwear to clink against porcelain and wine to spill. It dripped to the floor and with it your last nerve.

“Don’t you dare, Nicholas! You and I, as well as any other resident in the palace, are very much aware of your father's open infidelity—and to incessantly remind me of it, is just unacceptable! When will you grow out of your boyish theatrics and take life seriously? You should concern yourself more with your studies and yourself than my matters!” you were standing, you didn't even know when you had stood up, but now you were face to face with your son for the first time in the duration of the entire dinner—and you tasted bile. Luscious chestnut coloured hair, forest green eyes and fair skin with an oval face; he was the copy of his father, quite literally and everything in you felt deeply disturbed by it. Or perhaps it was because of the way he would stare at you, even as a baby, with this sort of hunger, this all-consuming need to take and take, without giving back, like a parasite in your guts, feeding off whatever you consumed.

“Mother, you wound me." he had the audacity to jest, smiling that bone-chilling smile. Sometimes you wondered if that really was your son and not just a demon that had slipped into his skin at birth. “I am your son, mother. I worry for you. You’ve had such a weak constitution since my childhood, I cannot help myself.” devil. You shuddered.

Beyond yourself and all responsibilities that came with being bound to the crown, you stormed off. Your maids rushed behind you but you swat them away, yelling at them to leave you be, that you just needed fresh air and throwing what other excuses you managed to come up with at them. And they were quick to listen—even though with great reluctance scattering like baby ducklings would, while the guards stationed in front of the dinning hall were watching you silently. Everyone was, constantly.

You huffed, hands gripping your gown like the talons of a bird clung to a mouse and you ran—perhaps if your mother could see you now, she would claw her way out of her grave to berate and scold you like the child you were behaving as, but you couldn’t stop your legs from moving forward, even as your feet started to ache and you felt something warm run down your shoe.

“Your Majesty?” you halted.

“What is the matter? You seem upset?” Charles. Your gaze softened, something that happened far too little. Soft brown curls with a matching chocolate brown gaze all dressed up in a relaxing blue. He was like a gift wrapped in a blue bow.

“I was just walking by. All council members were called.” he was blunt and clipped as always—comfortingly so, gazing at you in thinly veiled concern.

Before you could spout whatever irresponsible nonesense that your mind could conjure up, he had clasped a hand around your wrist, quick to check for curious eyes that would misinterpernt the rather narrow distance between you two, before pulling you both aside into an empty chamber nearby—the room not much bigger than a closet, obviously something forgotten.

You opened your mouth ready to speak but he beat you to it.

“Is it your husband again? He’s a fool. To think he can feel free of guilt when his lovely wife has to suffer because of his childishness.” you felt his hand cup your cheek and you melted, the darkness and slight chill of the room suddenly secondary, as warmth from your very insides bloomed.

“I don't know anymore, Charles,” you sighed, head against his chest. You found a steady rhythm there, something unlike your life.

“He brought her here. Here! Into the castle. He wants to make her his second queen, his second queen! That's unheard of but he's so stubborn and he won't listen. Not to me, not to his advisors—he just doesn’t listen.” there was some relief in sharing your pain, some relief that at least someone would listen to what you felt and thought.

“It's a scandal.” he admitted in a whisper, now rubbing your back in gentle circles. “To have a mistress for all the world to see and to want to elavate her status to yours. He’s crazy. You deserve better, much better.” he consoled you and reassured you, making you feel more at ease with your teenage-like outburst. You ought to pull yourself togehter, (y/n). Be quiet and strong. Don’t cause a fuss, men don’t like that. Yeah, mother, you did everything right, but father still had three bastards he brought home.

Exhausted you groaned, embracing the very chest that Charles has been offering you since the first day at the palace. Sometimes you would wonder what would’ve been if you had married Charles instead of your husband, but you never thought too long or too hard about it, because to be tuthful the prospect that you could’ve lead a happier life depressed you.

Something wet rolled down your cheek.

You pulled away.

“Thank you, Charles. You’ve always been very understanding. But I should return to my chambers. It’s late. Where were you headed to again? You should make haste.” you were quick to dismiss as usual. It was unheard of that in-laws were so close with eachother, especially when the gown you were wearing once had been your husbands gift. It was like his cruel paw extended time and place to even shackle you in place here in the furthest corners of the palace, alone with the man that you had— in your younger years at least— occasionaly thought about at night, when your husband would be working or have his occasional trysts with some courtesan.

He was quiet for a second or two, letting you spiral furhter into the dark place that had a permenant residence inside of your mind, only to startle you with a squeeze to your shoulders. “Are you certain? You still appear unwell and I would feel like a terrible brother-in-law if I just—” you didn’t let him finish.

“No, no need. I am absoloutely capable of returning by myself. Just you go.” and with that escaped before you could cry your eyes out in front his brother, even when he was the only human in the family of festering little demons, you would rather not let him catch you off guard. He was the apple Eve was tempted with only to fail the test, but you were better than that, you were a noble, not just any you were a royal, you wouldn’t fall for fate’s cruel tricks.

You rushed through the halls, your heels clicking with each step, as the night only turned darker and your thoughts only more frenzied. Finally you reached your chambers, your skittish maids, breathing out in relief, rushing towards you to check in on you and your trembling state. You waved them off, barking again to be left alone, only this time they wouldn’t. Suspiciously so.

“Why won’t you let me enter? Speak.”

“My queen, we would never think about witholding you from returning to your own chambers, but there is an issue of sorts, you see..” the oldest of the bunch spoke up, the same age as your mother would be if she was still alive and well.

With slits for eyes you glowered, now more persistent in your demand, even if it was one of your most loyal of maids, you wouldn’t be leniet enough to let them off the hook so easily. “Speak.”

“My queen it is that—”

Oh.

Staring at you so incredibly smugly, as if you couldn’t wipe the floor with her visage if you wanted to, was the twenty something mistress of your husband, of the the king, Maria.

How ironic of a name.

“Oh? If that isn’t the first queen. How delighted I am, to meet the woman the king adores as much as he adores me. And how beautiful of a woman you are! So graceful, even at your age, with a child that’s nearly old enough to build his own family! You must be proud! Certainly, you’re so lovely.” you felt your eye twitch. She was utterly shameless standing in the doorway to your chambers while dressed in nothing but a chiffony nightgown and black hair like the streaks of tint on paper. How utterly depraved and sick.

As she smiled too, you probably turned red in the face.

“I am so happy to finally meet you! I heard a lot about you—all he does is talk about you. I am glad you’re my opponent I can vie for the king’s affection with. Anyone else would’ve been bland in comparison to you.” her fingers brushed away a strand of hair in your face and it probably took all of your self-restraint not to snap and bury your fingers in her scalp to pluck away some of that inky black. “I am truly grateful.” her blue eyes were worse, piercing and clear like the streams of fresh waters—truly a horrible colour to be gifted to such snake, undeserving of such beauty.

“Why are you here? This isn’t the king’s bedroom, girl.” you were cold, slapping away her hand and trying to undermine her presence with the fact that you were older and more experienced, yet she just giggled. Was it wrong that she reminded you of your son? The both of them certainly were the same level of vile, making you feel uncomfortably unauthorative in their presence.

“Oh it isn’t? My mistake, your Majesty. But you can just call me Maria, no need to be so distant. Or you could get used to calling me Queen Maria. Pardon—is it a sensitive topic? You’re glaring at me so intensely, I am uncertain if I should fear for my life.” on second thought maybe being thrown into prison for bashing in the king’s mistress’ head against a wall didn’t sound so appaling. No, pull yourself together.

“I ask of you to move. These are my chambers. So move, now.” one more minute of this and you were sure you would end up growling like an animal, but thankfully she finally took the hint and brushed past you but not without a flying kiss your way. “See you soon, your majesty.”

At the end your maids held you back from tearing her apart like a rabid dog the moment she turned to walk away. Thankfully, they were also able to pull you into your chambers before fleeting before your outburst. Vases were flying—clothes ripped apart and you burned the single strands of black you found, above your lamp’s little flame. All while you stared up at the night sky, like you used to, asking the heavens why they had cursed you. Why a god couldn’t have let you be born as an empty-headed piglet, why you had to be able to understand language, why you just couldn’t rip anyone’s head off that treaded too close to you.

At the end of your breakdown you found your mother’s pearls scattered on the checkered tiles like the stars that mocked you from above. You pursued your lips into a smile. It was somewhat symbolic.

Mother was dead. Father too.

But you weren’t, not yet at least. So why waste it with stupid things such as deceny? You had desired for more than superficial workship of your body—you wanted real love, something to take your mind off your duties. And if the king was allowed such a thing, then you would just aquire one too.

Charles had always been friendly to you. Why not pay the favour back? After all, he was such a good brother-in-law.

The imaginary gods truly scorned you, didn't they? Because why else would you be dining with your husband, his mistress and your son. Were you truly nothing but the butt of the joke? Your presence meant nothing—all the years of hard-work, serving the crown and greater good, for what?

For Maria to wink at you and mock you in broad daylight, with even your son doing nothing but quietly watch. Father like son. How true that statement was.

Were you disappointed though? No, you didn't expect much of demons festering off others.

The eggs were cooked into gooey soft richness, just as you liked it, giving you some semblance of comfort. Today you were dressed in rich velvet purple; truly a gown for special occasions and this particular day probably was the most special out of all. It was the day you had anticipated all these upcoming weeks with nothing but an ache deep in your chest whenever you thought of it.

Today he would announce when the law would be finalized—and with its finalization the death of your dignity.

Maria would officially be the king’s second queen, not consort, not mistress—not even the occasional courtesan he liked to fuck, no, she would be of your status, when she was nothing but a count’s daughter. It was laughable really, you stabbed at the beacon on your plate as if it had committed a crime against you.

From childhood until your marriage to him, you as a royal princess had been kept endlessly busy with tutoring of all kinds; writing and reading first and foremost then state affairs, french, latin, philosophy, politics, how to properly sit and talk, embroidery and so much more that at eight you had started wishing to be born a pig, kept fed until slaughter.

“As you all know,” all heads drifted in his direction, sitting proud at the head of the mahogany table, “The law will be legalized by the end of the month and to celebrate this joyous occasion. I ask my first wife, to prepare a banquet for my love.” he probably didn't even see you as a human, only as a political ally.

“Of course, your Majesty. I would love to.” nevertheless you replied as if you had a choice in the matter anyways, flinching as soft hands snaked up your arms. “You will? That's wonderful news! I cannot share just how honoured I am that you will be planning this! Anything you make must be nothing short of astounding beauty!” was she trying to gain even more of the king’s favour? It certainly seemed to work on your lovesick husband, who only leaned back in his seat, the cushions were red—a colour worthy of a king and let his lips curl up into a tender smile, with moss greens that seemed to scarily soften up.

Had your husband ever been capable of such a look?

You couldn't remember him ever staring at you so lovingly. It was chilling to say the least. Perhaps even repulsing.

You were quick to look down at your plate again—wishing for nothing more but to peel her fingers off of you, hopefully with so much force that one of her fingers would clean-cut break into two. It wasn't a question of love nor jealousy after all; but a matter of respect, and she was downright waddling her tail in front of you in victory. As if she deserved your just title as much, if not more than you. Slut.

“Mother,” this time it was the voice of your son calling out to you, “it seems you will be occupied for the time being with the courtesan's banquet,” he sighed, “and I here I was anticipating to spend some time with you after my exams.”

Had he just—

Silence.

Even the servants could do nothing but stare at the prince wearing such a proud expression, as if what he did was the right course of action. As if he just didn't insult his father's current obsession with the occupation she had before he brought her into the castle.

Everyone knew not to mention it, not even in the passing. Just hinting at it could cost you lots yet here was the crown prince doing what he knew not to do.

Oddly enough, while electricity zapped through the air, something destructive brewing beneath the king’s icy cold gaze—you could nothing but gape in fascination at your spawn. Were you imagining it, or was he protesting against his father? If you didn't know it sny better, you would've thought he did it to defend your honour. But that was laughable.

It seemed the young prince had grown up, when you had no clue, but sometime ago probably, with the way he held his chin up high, no fear visible in his gaze all while holding his father's glare.

You would be lying if you said you weren't weirded out. Hopefully him acting out wouldn't put you in bigger trouble than you already were in. He could at least grant you such a favour.

“What—what did just leave your mouth?” the king practically spat, your husband rising a hand decked out with hefty golden rings.

“I said, father,” you internally groaned, this child was just determined to cause you misery, “Courtesan. Because that is exactly what she is. Isn't that right, Maria? Before father married you, you were nothing but a whore with your legs wide spread open to please—”

Thwack. The king loomed over his own son, like God, – if he existed – probably had over Lucifer to berate him one last time before he would've earned his fall from grace.

“Enough! One more word and I will forget myself entirely!” the threat rung through the entire dining hall, it rung so deep it seeped into your bones.

Nicholas’ cheek was left marked with imprints of fat rings that managed to slice through skin and leave one side of his face a swirl of red and slowly forming purple. He hadn't just hit his son, but he had done so, with such force that his head was moved out of your sight.

Yet he still talked; spat out words like they burned his tongue.

“What, father? Can't handle the truth—”

“Edwin! Oh dear!” Maria’s fingers only now left your arm. She was rushing to the man that was supposedly your husband, to stop him from actually killing the boy he had wanted so badly. Immediately she latched onto him, practically throwing herself at him, dotting on him, doing her best to calm his wrath and somehow it worked. While all you could do was watch in stunned silence.

Your cousin, what was her name again— ah, yes, Lilian— would’ve surely snorted out a laugh at the scene. She found everything dark and morbid to be fascinating, perhaps that's why she had married a duke that would occasionally beat her into a bloody pulp?

Getting sidetracked again, weren't you? Point is you could accept much, but this, this was crossing a thin line that needed to be kept up for the balance of all things holy to the crown. If a mistress managed to throw everything out of order, then you truly had failed all your marital duty as a partner and as a queen.

Perhaps mother had been right? But then again, father had never been the big romantic, you were sure the man had been incapable of falling in love—obviously different to the Edwin you thought you had known all those years. He seemed enamored and it was truly terrifying.

The meal ended shortly after with the King storming off and his mistress right with him. Now, you never enjoyed being affectionate with Nicholas, however even you had to admit that you should probably offer the boy some words of wisdom.

Even if you liked to think of him as a little gremlin with a copy of his father for a face, you knew he wasn't exactly the same as him. Sometimes, it was hard to admit, your son did manage to spark some motherly affection in you, as scary as it was. So sighing, you rounded the table and your gaze landed on the brunette boy.

“Come, let's get you cleaned up.” was the most affectionate mumbling you forced out from between your lips. Only to turn around almost immediately, not waiting for him to collect himself as you wandered out and away from the dining hall. There was a short burst of laughter—probably, you weren't sure, you hoped it wasn't crying. You hated seeing him cry. He was an ugly crier. Then you heard footsteps behind you and soon passing by a few of your family portraits, the irony not lost on you—your life in contrast to the perfectly crafted deception painted onto these canvases—you found yourself in your study.

“Sit.” your words were always clipped when you talked to him, weren't they? It was hard to remember.

Nevertheless you rummaged through your drawers, the subtle scent of wood mixing with the incense that you were quick to ignite.

Funny, so that's what your study looked like? It was organised and thoroughly dusted, with each book and document in different neatly arranged piles. He remembered never been allowed in here as a boy, only able to take sneak peaks at you at your desk while the door closed in behind his nanny's somber face. Now it made sense, you feared a child would ruin your precision and need for perfection. Oh, mother, is that the reason you shun me so?

You felt that unexplainable chill again, which would always travel down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. See that look in his eyes? Those soulless green orbs you swore would burn a hole into your face from how intensely he was staring at you as you sat down in front of him. That's exactly why you didn't want anything to do with him, he was just—so peculiar.

“Close your eyes.” was your next command, not being able to stand the abyss you found in your own son’s gaze. You waited while you prepared the cotton through soaking it in alcohol.

And thankfully he listened. His eyes fluttered shut.

“Mother” he spoke. “Mhm,” you hummed.

“Mother, aren't you mad at father?” you paused, inhaled, already unnerved before continuing to pat his cheek gently.

“It's not in my place to question what the king does, neither is it yours Nicholas.” a soft sigh escaped you, “You ought to behave yourself. The little stunt you pulled at dinner tonight was dangerous. He may be your father, but before all else he is the king. And you should respect him until the crown is yours. Or do you wish to ruin your future just because?”

“It wasn't just because—” you chuckled, letting your hand fall away from his cheek as he forced the words from between his teeth.

“Oh?” you used the same look your mother always gave you—a scoff and a frown combined to make the one on the recieving end feel disgustingly guilty. You shook your head at him, youth.

“The reason isn't of any importance, what is of importance however is you ascending to the throne. And you cannot do so if your father hates you so. You may be older and of pure blood, but if the new woman at his side falls pregnant with a boy and you continue to be foolish, then you can just stand and watch everything being ripped away from you.” were you getting emotional, describing your future too while trying to warn him? Maybe. You didn't realise it until your son threw himself at you, alright, maybe not literally but he embraced you, as if you were the child and he the parent.

You stilled.

When had been the last time you hugged your son? You couldn't remember. The moment was peaceful, oddly so and just for a split second you forgot of your revulsion towards that child and let him clutch onto you.

“Mother,” he breathed against your shoulder, startling you, “Mother he’s openly betraying you. While the whole nation watches. You don't deserve this mother, you deserve a better man. If I had been my father I wouldn't have—” you immediately pushed him away.

Did you mishear?

“Don't—don’t ever talk like that again!” you declared, instead of questioning it further, immediately assuming that the fault lied in your twisted mind. You must've misunderstood you must've—

Something was brewing beneath his exterior, you could tell. Something dangerous flicked in his gaze, something that you knew justified your fear towards your own spawn. Now, any minute, you swore he would burst and unleash his inner demons.

“Mother,”

“I apologise.” he smiled. You felt yourself release a breath, one you weren't aware you had been holding.

“I didn't think about my words, I am truly sorry.”

You quickly wrapped things up after that and it was not long before you send him off on his merry way. If he continued to talk about his father as if he wished for him to be only a memory and his skeleton six feet under the earth, then he would only spiral into a world of trouble and take you with him.

Besides—since when was he this rebellious? You sighed, feeling pain bloom between your brows.

Was this some sort of mockery?

To shame you continuously?

Or why for god's sake was this bitch in your chambers again?

“Your Majesty!” she chirped and you wished you could claw your eyes out and stuff them into her mouth so she would finally shut up.

“Child…”

“Maria, it's Maria, your majesty!” she huffed, then pouted, again clad in nothing but her nightgown, underwear really; silk that fell over her shoulders and reached down to her ankles.

“Besides—,” she pouted and you started to question the sanity of this woman, “You're not much older than me, your Majesty. Mhm, like an elder sister! How about I call you queen sister? Since we both will be queens!” she giggled.

Had she been dropped on her head at birth? You couldn't help but stare wordlessly, as she interlinked her arm with yours.

“Again. This is not the king’s chambers.”

“But queen sister—”

“Don't call me that.”

“But—”

“I said don't call me that!” you screamed.

Great. Now you were causing a scene in the hallway, with your maids and the guards watching. Great.

However you hadn't been prepared yet for the grand finale—suddenly she bursted into tears. Graciously of course, she was a lady, a lady with many tricks up her sleeve that is. She was crying, seemingly an endless stream, sobbing and quivering, staring up at you with big puppy-dog eyes.

If there was a god in heaven, you were certain that he hated you.

“My queen” she was still sobbing, now leaning forward so her cold lips could brush against your ear.

“You scream at me again and I’ll tell the king that you insulted me to my face.”

You gasped, this cocky little—

Yet what could you do? You knew one of her words amounted to a bar of gold to him; something to be treasured, possibly sacred. But you, he never had viewed you as such, you were the mother of his child and the queen yes—but your presence, —you knew as much as that— never has been valuable besides those two strong points. He saw you as an ally, a friend of sorts, a political fawn; someone with an intellect, but nothing more.

You didn't want to imagine his anger at even just daring to belittle what was rightfully his, that you, the queen in his little game of chess, would've mustered up courage that bordered on dangerously life-threatening.

So you sighed, with liquid anger pumping through your veins and your face flushing from the pressure of it. Your temples hurt again. Your head hurt again

You didn't register her leaving with a shit—eating grin on her face, nor the fact that one of your maid, Leslie, was half-carrying you inside your chamber, having to sit you down on your bed before feeding you your medicine in form of a brew.

It was funny, like your memory was wiped clean—as if your mind was a clean slate similar to how it had been when you were a drooling infant. Everything around you eased, the tension, the worries—what even was there to worry? You hummed, even purred in satisfaction as you drifted off into a dreamless slumber.

You hated waking up. Peace never existed beyond a deep slumber void of dreams. You hated dreams, you hated being dragged up and dressed like a doll and hated the sky. Especially the sky with its sparkling stars all mocking you, calling you as you were; defeated.

Utterly so.

Your reminisced about your beloved husband calling you to discuss something urgent with him. What could've been this urgent matter, one may ponder? Well, it was Maria.

“Have you started your preparations for the ball, yet?” his tone was colder than usual.

“No, but I am very much in—”

“Then haste. It will be held soon enough.”

You nodded politely, not wanting to aggregate his nerves further. So he waved you off and dismissed you, until he abruptly spoke up.

“And make sure that boy learns some manners.” his glare was so sharp it cut into your nape.

“Will do, husband.” you fled the room after that.

Perhaps you did not actually flee, but you certainly felt inclined to do so. Sometimes you did fantasize about escaping to a lone island, one that would resemble the paradise your nanny had always spoken so fondly of. What was her name again? You didn't remember, you couldn't, no matter how hard you tried because all you called her was Mommy—obviously only behind closed doors, away from any eyes or ears that could rat her out to your real hag of a mother.

She had been the only thing close to a mother's loving embrace which you so frequently would read about in books; fairytales and romances. An angel with crooked teeth and a hunchback, but an angel no less, with a softness to her that you never were able to replicate no matter how hard you tried. She was simply of different blood that wasn't blue nor red but gold; she wasn't like the rest of them. But you were like them, hiding behind a mask, no matter how terrible life whipped at you to reveal the truth—you wouldn't, you were trained to not give in after all, drilled from a young age.

And she had been so adamant to free you, telling you stories about juicy fruits with tastes rivalling that of honey, a sky that never darkened and greenery that never faded—if you narrowed your eyes to slits, you could imagine the royal garden spread out in front of you to be the paradise she so often spoke about.

You sighed again. Those were just childish fantasies. Something she had made up to bring you happiness, even if your shared wonder only lasted two years before she was caught being too affectionate with you and discarded.

As a chubby five-year old you had been devastated and confused, wondering why she had left you behind to fend for yourself, alone with the wolves. But as you matured, as your own son's nannies came and disappeared, you realized it had never been her fault in the first place. They had been at fault.

“Your majesty!”

Some of your days were good, tranquil even, but some—some were either destructively evil or somberly empty.

“Your majesty—” and today you wanted to be somber, away from everything. But fate didn't want this. Of course it didn't, fate despised you as you did your mother. So even if you had promised to betray fate instead and experience an adventurous tryst with the man in front of you just out of spite, you felt no desire to speak with him or anyone else, after the short but life-threatening conversation you had had with his majesty.

“Has he upset you again?”, Charles sighed, his initial enthusiasm fading, “It seems every time we converse you're miserable.”

Now that he mentioned it—he wasn't wrong. He was like some sort of saviour, someone that reminded you of your nanny so long ago and your hardened heart softened again. You didn't want to push him away, not Charles, not the man with soft-features, a tender look in his eyes, with his dashing looks and personality—not when he was only a few years younger than you. So little in fact, it wouldn't matter at your age anymore.

“Seems so.” you muttered and you couldn't hold your hand back from outstretching to pull him down besides you on your little white-painted bench placed in the shades, with another piece of embroidery in your lap. For a moment he was silent, stunned by your fingers wrapped around his wrist for all eyes to feast on—and continuing to hold it even as he sat.

“It seems you're always there for me, Charles.” was this a fever dream? Or why else would you, the queen, tempt him so, seductive as always, yet bolder than ever, calling him so intimately out here—hopefully out of the ear of onlookers to the spectacle; your maid and a few guards scattered around.

And then you even fluttered your lashes at him, so blindingly beautiful that it hurt. Tantalizing with your lips that he was certain were sweeter than sugar, and the new heart-robbing smile on those soft pillars of warmth. The slope of your nose, the apple of your cheek, everything about you was sin incarnate and he was just helpless to the devil’s calls. Just what if he leaned down and—

“I thank you.” god you teased him.

“It's my pleasure. As a devotee to the crown.” he managed to finesse and gloss over his little stammer with a bright smile and you, thankfully, let it slip.

Or at least he assumed so.

Actually you were giggling in your head like one of those young village girls, when a boy would ask for a dance—you had watched that spectacle occur one time out on the countryside for some respite after mother's passing.

What a time it had been, so beautifully peaceful with only the birds to yap away— similar to now, the only difference was that now you were holding his hand, and nothing, not even the king could prevent you from enjoying this moment to the fullest.

“Charles. How long have we known eachother?”

“Fourteen years and counting, your Majesty.” he answered, with warmth in his eyes. The day was warm—the sun blazing and at its peak, with the garden neatly trimmed, sitting beneath the proud tall that was probably older than both of you combined, the shade provided you would with protection from her rays.

“Thank you, Charles, for always consoling me in times of need.” your fingers slithered between his own, entangling your hands under lingering eyes, yet in that little moment you found yourself not caring. Life was short, so why shouldn't you be able to enjoy life to the fullest as his majesty. If it came and he would hear of this, you would accept whatever punishment, because you were sick of not being free.

Then again you felt freedom spread her wings above you with Charles by your side.

You smiled, softly, gently, tenderly even. A smile not even your son had ever earned from you—something he probably never would, no matter what he tried, because he was still that man’s son with motives behind his façade that you could never figure out. He was still the baby that terrified you with the ravenous hunger in his soul reflected in his gaze.

And that very son, was plastered against one of the castle windows, his glare bearing down on you both, if possible, it would have burned a hole through your face from the sheer intensity of it. You had always viewed your child as creepy—unsettling to be around for too long. But you had never possessed any evidence for it—you knew not to blame a seedling, something that had sprung from you, but you just couldn't stop yourself from feeling dread when meeting his eyes.

Unbeknownst to you, this silent horror was not completely irrational.

Actually it was simple survival instinct.

Especially when the heir to the kingdom craved nothing more but your motherly love and seeing you give affection to his uncle, of all people – his enemy — he couldn't help but trash your favourite vase. Actually he wasn't that different to you in that sense—he needed chaos and destruction to satisfy the inner barbarian in him.

“Mother,” he slammed his fists onto your desk. He had been snooping around your study—his favourite past time activity since he had managed to steal the second pair of keys to the room you viewed as sacred and safe. If you just knew, Mother.

“You give, Mother. To everyone but me.”

he was trying to maintain his composure, to not burst into a jealous rage from seeing you intertwined hands, the close proximity you shared—the smile plastered onto your face much more similar to that of a young maiden experiencing her first love than the queen with a heart of ice.

The moment his uncle dared to lean forward to brazenly press a kiss to your knuckles, was the moment he snapped. Destruction reigned over your study, his desire for carnage so raw, he treated craftsmanship like flesh and blood, strangling them as if they owed him an apology.

Then finally it was over.

As it was, peace settled over his silhouette, drenched in his own sweat in the stifling hot room, panting like a rabid dog.

“Mother,” you both were gone now from his view, he should haste, he knew, but he couldn't leave without these last words.

“If you won't give me your love willingly, as a mother should. Then I will take what is mine to own. I will overthrow father, be the king. You won't be able to escape, me, your son. You won't shun me no longer, mother. I won't allow it.”

Mother I will own your leash.

When you finally parted—you felt light and airy. Freedom was on the tip on your tongue, and butterflies danced around your hollowed out chest. Summer lingered on your skin, warm and sandy, reminding you of beaches you had never visited and tropical fruits that run over the back of your hand when you squeezed tad too tightly.

You hadn't felt so giddy in a while, nothing could ruin your good mood, not your husband, nor his mistress and neither your son. Cotton clouds were wrapping around you and you would be damned if you wasted time to not mock the stars back, staring up at the bright sky with a sneer. See, Mother? I will have my freedom too. I won't end like you, heartbroken by a man that never learned to love.

How foolish you were. Unassuming even. Years of living on this earth, shackled by fate and you still dared to dream.

So when the door to your study gave in and you entered to discover—

nothing amiss.

You sighed, you were being paranoid again, weren't you? How silly of you. Why would anything be out of order—children and most servants were forbid from entering. You handled delicate matters, events even; such as banquets and balls, carefully writing out invitations to selected guests, curating the invitations. Also you were responsible for all of your servants and the choices they made.

Before the old king’s unfortunate death you had been responsible with his care. He had deteriorated into a bad mental state in the last two years of his life; so much so that he couldn't recognise his son anymore. You had shared your husband's pain then, younger and naïve, a decade ago.

But you didn't, not anymore, not after so much you suffered through and with him only for him to sought out a courtesan and bend the entire law for her, risking even a coop!

You approached your sleeping quarters as always, while thinking about Maria, which granted you with a pulsing headache—in the literal sense. You should ask one of your maids, maybe Leslie, to brew you, your medicine once again.

“Maria." you greeted her dryly, the routine familiar now.

“Your Majesty!” she chirped as always and you had to control the twitch of your eye—or the twitch in your hand to slap her.

You opted to just silently stare at her, agitated by having to encounter her each night in your chambers, dressed in a nightgown you didn't want to imagine the king peeling off of her skin. She was trying to shame you, in front of your closest servants and in front of the guilt-stricken guard—that couldn't deny her request because in fear of attracting the king's anger.

“Your Majesty! I have waited and waited, just where have you been?” she was active as a child—but her eyes mirrored that of a snake, just searching for one of your weak points, so that she could torment you further until she managed to properly get rid of you.

“Maria please move. I would like to rest.”

“Then let's rest together! I am terribly tired—you know how tiring the king can be! So ravenous.” she snickered, much to the horror of your servants around you, “Oh..my apologies. Am I hurting your Majesty’s feelings?” her slanted gaze drooped, pity and amusement lingering in their depths.

Oh.

She did not—

That bitch!

“Leave!” you roared. Not towards her but to everyone around you, needing to feel her scalp beneath your fingers. You knew what you would be doing now was going to wind up ruining your just newly acquired saccharine taste of freedom, and probably destroy your life—but your anger gripped your by your shoulders and slapped you on your back as you roughly shoved her inside of your chambers.

Darkness shrouded the room in thrilling mystery of what to come—at least you thought Maria found it to be thrilling judging by her giddy following, excited to play a sick and twisted game of cat and mouse in the privacy of your chambers.

Your burst came all too soon and familiar—stripping you of any royalty, drowning out all the voices in your head trying to shackle the beast you would become when allowed. Usually you were only to do so in private, behind your doors—with only your servants to be subjected to your other face, but this time you wanted to indulge Maria. Show her heavenly grace and what it meant to be of royal descent.

You strangled her.

Everything unfolded in the blink of an eye, you couldn't stop or control yourself before tackling her causing her to stumble over your carpet in shock, crashing with into your nightshade, lamp shattering the moment it embraced the marbled floors while she embraced you as you both tumbled into your bed.

“Have the king! Have him all you want—like all the other men that you had between your legs. Warm him at cold nights! I urge you, please do.” hissing you leaned down to continue. “But know that you will never be able to be loved as much by the court, by the people, by everyone else. You won't survive this for too long. Even if I am beheaded after this.” you snarled while noting that she was indeed oddly calm beneath your palms. You were uncertain. Maybe it was the sheer shock? Perhaps she was weaker than you had assumed?

Or, she had died.

Panic surged through you. You weren't ready to be her murderer just yet! The thought alone made you flinch as if it branded your forehead in big bold letters in crimson. As if everyone could already bear witness to your crimes.

And suddenly you stood in front of the court.

Fingers pointed at you, screeching out blurts of sentences you couldn't make out, while you were dragged away by your own son, his grip on your hair so tight that you swore your scalp would peel off any minute now.

Kicked to kneel in front of the king, you begged and pleaded but mercy was foreign to the man that robbed you of your youth, and that you robbed of love and his sword swung high and far before—

You convulsed, gagging only at the thought, letting loose of her neck instantly, falling off of her onto the silken covers.

“I am sorry—” you mumbled, scrambling away from her, stubbornly looking away from the assumed corpse.

You were about to flee, kicking away the covers, dazed by the turn of events, trying to claw yourself back to your feet.

Run, Run, Run. It chanted inside of your head, and you surely would’ve managed to do so, if Maria’s fingers didn't clasp around your arm like a python’s jaw.

“Where are you going, your Majesty? We just started didn't we.” you shrieked, her hoarse voice genuinely startling.

Slowly you turned around to face the woman, with wide-eyed panic still clear on your face. “Let go of me!”

“Why? So you can take flight? Escape? Your majesty, even if you run, Edwin’s underlings will still catch you.” she was grinning, a feverish rush on her cheeks, mania clear and deep in her icy blue stare. “There's no one to run to, your Majesty. No where to hide. Embrace it. You're a monster. Old and greedy, craving things that no longer are yours.”

Was the bed coming closer? Or were you being pushed down? Because soon enough you laid on your bed, another headache, so potent it nearly blinded you with its pain—left you at the mercy of her cruel words.

“The king doesn't love you. He never has. Never will.” she muttered, with purple blooming on her throat like blossoming tulips, “You suffer for naught, your Majesty. Why do you worry for someone with such little regard of your person?” it was a bitter pill to swallow the truth in her words—and even if you wished to protest, you couldn't.

You were tongue-tied from the agony, with suddenly lead instead of bones, only further sinking into the open arms of your bedding.

“You're a fool, your Majesty.” a laugh ripped free from her throat. “For ever agreeing to be alone with me, don't you fear what I could be? Don't you fear my hands on your cheeks? Don't you fear the lust for blood in my gaze?” her voice like a melody, like a drug to aid to your wounds—it worked better than the mix of herbs you usually downed to find relief.

“Will you kill me?” you asked, only to earn another boisterous laugh that felt like a whip on your soul accompanied with slanted eyes that slithered over your form.

“No, far worse,” she paused, gaze smoldering.

“I will love you and you will love me.”

Pause.

You gawked. What was she saying?

“What?” you spat, puzzled.

She was completely deprived of sisterly love, or so it seemed. This was bizarre, downright weird—had she gone mad? Now you feared whatever her sick mind conjured next.

Something morphed and shifted until a smile so daunting, that if it weren't for the pulsing agony between your brows, you would've slapped it off her face and gladly so, while simultaneously increasingly feeling as if you were trapped in the coils of a snake.

“Edwin doesn't see you, as I do, your Majesty. He cannot see the madness in you, as I can. The insanity in your eyes, the very same one I crave to have. He doesn't love you, he doesn't. Not like I do.” your brows scrunched up, puzzled, she truly spoke like a madwoman.

Maria only chuckled. Her gaze narrowed in on your lips, in a way that twisted your stomach in discomfort; the way a man leers at a woman he desires. What foolishness! She couldn't possibly mean such an atrocity! It was never heard of a woman with a woman—

And as if to prove you wrong, tear your worldview apart, she leaned down with heavy paws pressing onto your shoulders. Your corset seemed tighter. The air or the lack of it was stifling. She wouldn't, right?

Fate truly had never been kind to you—and now it proved itself to be only more cruel as her lips crashed onto yours.

She was feverish with soft lips and scraping teeth, her tongue poked and prodded as if she tried to hollow out the warm cavern of your mouth. Her scent lingered in your nose so strongly it made your eyes water—lavender mixed with something you failed to recognise as she smashed her mouth against yours over and over again, until you were convinced that she was trying to strangle you with the wet muscle in her mouth instead of her hands.

The moment she let go off your figure, as stiff as a board , she was smirking deviously, as if she won a prize in a competition. As if the prize was you.

“I promise—” she leaned down, languidly slow, as if she had all the time in the world with no concern for the ravenous chaos she had just unleashed inside of you, “that even after Edwin’s reign, you will stay queen by my side.”

A bone-chilling cold kiss pressed to your damp temple.

“Goodnight, my queen.”

Sleep was not kind enough to visit you that night or the night after even though Maria had abruptly stopped with her nightly visits after that faithful encounter—still, your head was a buzzing beehive of thoughts. You were overwhelmed and at a loss for words at the strangeness of it all. For her to kiss you and demand—No, you refused to ponder about it further.

Nevertheless as if fate wished to humiliate you further —the stars in the sky hiding behind the light of the sun at daytime mocking you — your son was glued to you for the past half an hour or so, even had send all your servants away and no matter how much you tried to pry him off he would have an excuse prepared smoothly evading all your accusations. It was creepy. Has he sensed something? He never was so persistent.

Nevertheless you still couldn't fathom why she had did, what she had done.

Even days later, it just didn't make sense. What benefit could she reap from forcing her mouth onto yours and behaving like a man? You shuddered just at the thought, everything about this situation was odd, vile, repulsing and something else. Something you wished to keep buried deep in you and left unexplored.

“Mother, look! It's a swan with ducklings.” he pointed out the window, at this very moment behaving much more closer in age to a child than to a man. “Yes, Nicholas. How grand.” you muttered dryly, eyes kept steady on the embroidery in your lamp while indulging him slightly, after countless failed attempts and of hushing him away, you had tired and the pounding headache that wouldn't relent didn't make you any more awake.

“Swans mate for life. Do you believe this one is mated?” your brow twitched in frustration, eyes kept steadily on your needle, going in-and-out of the tight fabric.

“I do not concern myself with such matters, perhaps you also shouldn't.” you muttered abrasively, watching the motive of a purple tulip come to life, something about it eerily similar.

“I believe that it was mated. Then rid itself of its mate. It knows it doesn't need one. Just look mother— all the cygnets that follow without her mate in sight. They all seem so happy. Especially the mother swan, the way she—” red obscured your vision.

Something warm and human dripped down your hand. You didn't move, didn't even breathe, all you did was stare at the needle sticking out of your hand.

“Mother?—” a gasp, “Mother!” his footsteps were overwhelmingly loud, even louder than his ramblings that were grating on your nerves.

“Oh Mother.” the condescending attribute of his tone was sharp and rung in your ears. “What have you done? Your beautiful skin,” he was mumbling again. God, when would this child stop mumbling beneath his breath! And his eyes full of fake pity concealing something much darker made you just want to pluck the needle from your hand and ram it into your throat, perhaps then the scornful look on your mother's face would finally stop haunting you every living moment.

“Mother, you're upset again, aren't you? You're always upset.” Nicholas face fell as if genuinely distraught, taking your wounded hand in his, prodding at the damage you caused. “Father doesn't know how to care for you, he is mean and brutish. To scold you for informing him that you can't possibly prepare the banquet because you're unwell and getting mad at you. He’s audacious, a fool. He doesn't deserve you—no one deserves you Mother. No one but me.”

You yelped as he pressed down onto the needle, causing further damage to your hand—the pain unbearably uncomfortable. For days your head was a dizzy spur of thoughts, paranoid and refusing to meet Charles and now, you couldn't even be properly be enraged about your son's foolishness. At least the mind-numbing headache of yours lessened thanks to the one in your hand.

Suddenly he was much closer, eyes a combination of bright and hopeful and sick. There was something manic about his gaze too, something that made you swallow thickly, alarm you once more to not stare at the demon dressed in your son's human’s shell.

“Mother, I will be a fair king. I will be good. And I will take care of you in a way, no man or husband can. So just endure it for a while longer, I know you carry all this pain with you—and all of it is the reason why you can't love me fully. But if father, his whore and everyone else that upsets you dies—then you will be free. Then you will be free to love me how much you want. We can finally be happy mother.”

You were about to puke. Was this what you had allowed to grow? Over all the years, no matter how much you detested spending time with the little copy of Edwin, you had made sure he only had the best nannies, a great governess and tutors at hand. All for him to spew out such nonsense.

But you had known. Known since the day he was born, that Nicholas was not sane. And right now it both angered and chilled you to see your worst fears manifest in flesh and blood.

“Get lost. Out of my eyes.” you hissed, bathed in cold sweat. You had to get up and out. Needed to flee before you were given the moment to acknowledge that you were raising such cruelness beneath the facade of a noble. Perhaps what amplified your dread was that he—the look of insanity in his eyes, the hatred, yet longing mixing into a destructive love— and you weren't so different after all.

That you both craved motherly affection so intensely you both had spiralled, into different lows, but spiralled nonetheless.

“Mother—you don't mean that.” he smiled. Yet not calm anymore. He wouldn't hide it no longer. You deserved to know that he forgave you, that he saw your pain and ache and that he would ease it for you. Just let him destroy the world only to rebuild it in your name, so that you could finally love him.

“No.” you breathed. He didn't relent, clutching your hand as if it was sacred.

“No! Let go!” you shoved him away this time, crying out in pain, as the needle’s head now pierced through your palm. You were trembling. The creatures lurking in the shadows would now find you. Freedom was a dream, happiness equally but at least you used to have peace, at least you used to have Charles, but this new reality of yours, with your son as the same maniac you were in your youth, would destroy it all. He will take from you, as he always had.

Your anger boiled over.

It was a mistake—he was the heir for god's sake, no matter how foul his mouth had gotten!

Nothing changed the fact that it was done though.

You slapped him right across the face, as his father had done, startling him into a stunned moment of silence. He was as if frozen, shocked that the verbal abuse you inflicted on him would actually one day turn physical. For a moment everything halted, the particles of dust in the air, the chirping of the birds, the soft footsteps echoing around the castle and only shock remained.

Then he smiled.

“Mother—”

And you fled.

You scrambled to your feet, rushing out of the room in such a hurry, you still held your embroidery in your hand while out in the hallway, running pathetically slowly. This wasn't your son. Even after years you still refused the truth, you didn't ask for this! Fate was cruel, but it couldn't be this—not this! You were a queen now, your mother would've been proud, the same mother you had thrown off the balcony.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, sick to the stomach. No, not now! You couldn't cry now, not when duty and responsibility always came before being and feeling and living and— Before you even realized you plucked the needle from the back of your hand, throwing the embroidery against one of the oil paintings hanging nearby, hoping your blood could lay curses and if it actually could,

You hoped to curse this entire castle.

Everything should’ve changed after her death! You should've been free, should’ve lived a better life than her—but you were following into her footsteps, the same miserable marriage only used as a pawn, with the same excuse for a husband caring even little for his heir. You hated it, hated it so much you could burst!

“Your Majesty?”

“Charles,” you muttered, lip between your teeth. You groaned, stumbling forward, dressed in red—the colour which had adored your mother as she had laid lifelessly on the ground. Life was funny indeed wasn't it?

The man has been your angel for so many years, once more spread his wings embracing you in all his glory, letting your red taint him with the evil your mother, you and your son bore. It was in your blood, in your very DNA, you were bred to be a demon—perhaps that's why your son's eyes had always send a chill down your spine, not because he possessed the same potent green of his father, but he held the same wickedness in it. The one you recognised.

“By god!—”

And speak of the devil and he rushed towards you, immediately growling at his uncle that held you in his clutches. Yet before he could step further forward, the doors to his father's study opened, the room one of the largest and proudest and with its opening the king stepped out with Maria as always glued to his side.

All of them and the servants—all were staring at you, while you couldn't help but let your tears flow; your pounding headache, the blinding lights and the blurry edges in your vision everything you could focus on, all were maddening.

You were dying weren't you? This was probably the divine judgment for all your sins. Perhaps the stars were right to scorn and mock you; you were indeed pitiful, a creature born out of neglect and the same abuse you instilled on others now.

“What’s the meaning of this?” the king demanded as proud as ever, before the world was replaced by a void and swallowed you whole and the chaotic cries around you dimmed, until your own stopped.

Until you were no more.

Hopefully this time you would be reborn as a bird with fully fleshed-out wings.

[kaiserouo]

"Huh."

[promptsforthestrugglingauthor]

Writing Prompt #2981

"What do you plan to stand on?"

"Um. My feet?"

"Your policies, my lord. The people have demanded an election, which means you don't simply inherit the job anymore."

"Well that just doesn't seem fair!"

[unboundprompts]

Hi!!! Can you do princess x knight prompts please?

-> other princess x knight prompts

Princess x Knight Prompts

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

"You're always working so hard," the princess told the knight, lower lip sticking out playfully. He offered her a brief glance, but still stood at attention. "I'm working to protect you," he answered, voice low so he wouldn't get into any trouble for talking when he wasn't meant to be. She grabbed ahold of his hand, his armor clanging at the motion. "Come and protect me from upstairs."

"I don't want you to go," the princess pleaded. "If you don't return..." The knight was quick to interrupt her. He couldn't bear to think about what would become of her if he did not come back. "I will always return to you, my love."

"Let's run away." The princess's breath hitched. "Let's run away from this dreaded place and make a life for ourselves that is entirely our own. No kings, no duties, no forbidden kisses, no sneaking around after dark. Just us."

There was a tap at the princess's window. Soft, yet still hard with intent. She pulled herself from the bed and gently opened the window, unlatching the little lock that kept it closed. Her knight was perched below the windowsill, having used the strong vines to scale the palace wall. "Hello, Princess."

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

[world-of-wales]

LAURA WARSHAUER SHARED SNIPPETS FROM HER TIME AT ST ANDREW'S WATCHING WILL & CAT FALL IN LOVE ♡

Laura Warshauer had a front row seat as a result of her close friendship with the pair. Whether it was William helping to carry her luggage, Kate comforting her on a night out, or just having a quiet drink in a cosy corner of a pub together, those memories live on.

Her interactions with them are something few can share – teaching Kate how to play the guitar, William buying her first ever Jack Daniel’s and Coke, eating takeaway food together or laughing and joking during road trips.

Speaking about her time at uni she said :

‘I graduated from school a year early and then spent what would have been my senior year at high school in St Andrews. It was a beautiful moment in time.

I wound up getting a front row seat to the very beginning of what would become one of the greatest and most iconic love stories of our time. It’s great to see Will and Kate, the same people they were then, on the world stage.’

Talking about their form life, she recalls that she'd her mother’s lasagne recipe and her aunt’s toffee – for William and some of his friends as well as chatting with him during meal times in the ‘Harry Potter-style’ dining hall.

William & Laura sitting together for the art history 02 class photo (fun fact william changed his course like 2 weeks later to geography)

She said:

‘Will lived down the hall with two of his friends from Eton. Kate lived on the floor below.

‘I met them the same week they met each other. I was struck by how normal Will was. You could talk about anything – the most mundane things.

'Coming back from a trip home to New Jersey with my big luggage, Will would grab my bag and take it inside the dorm.

‘We were all just trying to find our way. Even if you’d been at a boarding school like Eton, people were still in a new environment.’

‘I remember I made dinner for everyone on my birthday in December and Will brought me a gift – a stuffed animal from Tesco.

It’s a seal with a blue backpack with stars on it. It’s in a place where I can see it every day and I’m like, “How cool”. It’s adorable.’

Laura said Kate and William had instant chemistry and fell for each other months before the 2002 fashion show where Will saw Kate modelling and described her as ‘hot’ :

‘We went to a party at a castle. It was a Harry Potter theme and they did an auction for charity where people were bidding to win a date. Will bid £200 to win a date with Kate.’

This is the Glamis Castle Birthday party from 01 where Catherine was pictured with Olivia Bleasdale

While Ms Warshauer doesn’t know what they eventually did for their date, she remembered Kate’s reaction was effortlessly cool – showing she was unfazed by titles and comfortable around him.

She spoke about Kate extricating William from an uncomfortable encounter:

‘It was early on when Will and Kate were getting to know each other. This girl was talking to Will, and he was being polite, but it was obvious he needed a way out .

‘All of a sudden Kate walks up from across the room, puts her arms around him and enables him to turn to this other girl and be like “I’m sorry, I have a girlfriend”.

‘And then he turned to Kate and silently mouthed the words “Thank you”. I remember thinking at that moment that no one but Kate could have done that.

‘They had just met each other but it was clear they had a connection.’

Speaking about her friendship with The Princess of Wales she said :

‘Kate saw that I was upset one night while we were out. I was walking ahead so people couldn’t see that I was upset and she came up and put her arm around me and said “I hate seeing people I care about upset”. You remember these moments.’

A photograph of Kate and Laura taken in the town’s camera shop in 2001 shows their friendship. A trip taken to find equipment for Laura's CBS audition tape filming:

‘As you know, Kate loves photography, she loved it then. Even in her dorm room I remember the beautiful photos.

‘She and I went to the camera shop together to get everything we needed and then she filmed the audition for me.’

Laura had shared a photo on social media of herself and Kate – taken at a 19th birthday party during their time in St Andrews – in a show of support for the Princess following her treatment for cancer.

This party seems to be Oliver Baker's birthday. He's one of W&C's close friends and one of George's godparents.

Speaking about it she said:

‘The interest is even greater now than it was the first time.’

Reminiscing about the party where the photo was taken, she remembers that she had just been to Paris to visit her sister who was studying there. The outfit she has on in the snap is one she bought during that French adventure.

Even that trip to Paris had started with another cherished moment with WillCat. She said:

‘Kate and I were supposed to ride a taxi to the airport together but then Will gave her a ride so I got in on it. I love how he offered her a ride and that’s how I got to go.

‘It was so cool to arrive in Paris and be like, “So guess who gave me a ride to the airport?”

‘The radio was on and Will was like, “Laura, you can sing with the radio”. It was just like popular music. It was sweet that he made that reference to me as a singer.’

[covingtons]

brighton's queens (and almost queens)

1. Queen Claricia - wife of King James "The Great" 2. Queen Helena - wife of King Phillip 3. Queen Caterina - wife of King Evrard 4. Queen Elera - wife of King Marcel 5. Queen Maria - wife of King Charles I 6. Queen Rosamund - wife of King George 7. Queen Ingrid - wife of King Edward I 8. Queen Anne - wife of King Robert 9. Queen Margaret - wife of King Charles II 10. Queen Regent Phillippa - wife of Crown Prince Edric † 11. Queen Mary - wife of King Edward II 12. Queen Elizabeth - wife of King Richard 13. Queen Adeline - wife of King Alexander 14. Queen Isabella - wife of King Edward III 15. Queen Madeline - wife of King Arthur 16. Queen Lorena - wife of King Charles III 17. Queen Genevieve - wife of King James II 18. Queen Felicity ♕ 19. Cecilia, Dowager Princess of Ashmere - wife of Crown Prince Felix † 20. Queen Liliana - wife of King Harrison

† indicates royal consorts whose husbands died before they could succeed to the throne ♕ indicates queen regnant

insp: @funkyllama x | @warwickroyals x | @thegrimalldis x | @trentonsimblr x | @royaltysimblr x

[starcyri]

Continuation of

THE WITCH AND THE PRINCESS

BY: STARCYRI

(Part 2)

That day Magnolia and Calytrix became really good friends, they chatted until it was sunset and that they had to go to their separate ways, but they also made a promise, to go back to the very same spot they met everyday just to play and talk to each other, they waved each other goodbye and left, Calytrix felt so happy, she finally made a friend...though once she came back home she ended up getting scolded and punished, but either way still a good day for her.

Soon days past..then Months...then a full year had past, at 9 years old, both Calytrix and Magnolia kept their promise to return to the very same spot they had met, as their meetings continue, both the King and Queen had noticed their daughter going missing in some days, they were concerned and ordered for her to stop going out for awhile, which made Magnolia upset.

“But..Mother! Father!-”

“No buts Magnolia, you have missed far too many of your lessons, it is time that you learn as you are the successor of the throne.” The King, Magnolia’s father said, standing firmly, The Queen could only look at Magnolia in disappointment as Magnolia looked angry at the both of them.

“But at least let me see my friend one more time! We made a promise to see eachother every day in the same spot we have met! She’ll be waiting for me there forever if I do not show up!” Magnolia pleaded to both her parents, which made both the King and Queen surprised.

“A friend you say?” The Queen asked her daughter, her brows raised.

“Yes! A friend! A friend who is dear to me, a friend who finally understands me and a friend who I understand too! I met her in the forest, she was crying, and- and..I asked her what’s wrong and- and we just became true friends!” Magnolia explains, Both the King and Queen looked at eachother, their expressions being unable to read.

“Who is this friend of yours that you have been talking positively about?” The King asked Magnolia, which made Magnolia nervous, Magnolia swallowed and said

“Calytrix, the Witch people have been talking about! Mother- Father- please don’t get mad at her or punish her! Calytri-” before Magnolia could even finish her words, both The King and Queen started laughing, which made Magnolia confused this time.

“Huh..?”

“Oh dear! You mean Zinnia’s niece? Oh! If we had known you were both friends we could have done a playdate schedule for the both of you! Hahaha!” The Queen let out a small giggle.

“Oh Thank goodness you two have become good friends! Me and your Mother were just about to introduce you to Zinnia and Calytrix in a week my dear!” The King let out a loud laugh, Magnolia was still confused.

“...I’m..Confused?”

“Ah, have we not told you before? Zinnia is both your father’s dearest friend! She was a classmate of ours in the elite school we attended, you know? The one that was far away from here? The reason why she lives here with her niece is because we invited her!” The Queen explains to Magnolia, which Magnolia has a good chunk of understanding of the situation, Magnolia knew her parents were interesting people, yet she didn’t expect this, for a kingdom that doesn’t like witches, she didn’t think her parents would have a witch friend.

“But.. if you two are good friends with a witch then how come our kingdom still hates witches..?” Magnolia asked.

“Well you know how our history goes with them, we already tried persuading our people to see the good in witches, after all, good witches like Zinnia and Calytrix exist! Why hate them all? But sadly they don’t seem to believe- or well, wanted to believe there are good witches, only bad witches exists” The King answered.

“Well we used to hate witches too, Zinnia has changed our perspective, she’s a kind hearted witch!” The Queen adds.

Now Magnolia understands.

“So..you won’t forbid me anymore from going out?” Magnolia looks at her parents with hope.

“Oh no you're definitely not going out for awhile” that made all Magnolia’s hope shatter. “but we will send a letter to Zinnia about the news of Calytrix and you being friends, then we will schedule a playdate for the both of you” with those words, all of Magnolia’s hope formed again, seeing their daughter look so happy with hearing those words, the King and Queen smiled softly at her.

“Just Promise us you won’t sneak off from your studies anymore”

“I promise!!”

And with that, both the King and Queen wrote a heartfelt letter to their dear witch friend, Zinnia, about their recent talk with Magnolia and how she has already met Calytrix, they both expressed happiness and offered to invite her and Calytrix to the castle to talk and maybe plan a playdate for both Magnolia and Calytrix.

Once Zinnia had received the letter, she was surprised to learn that her troublesome niece had met the princess, but nevertheless, wrote back, once she replied the time and date she was available along with Calytrix, she asked Calytrix, who was playing outside the field, why has she not told her about being friends with the Princess, to which Calytrix replied.

“She was a Princess?” Calytrix tilted her head in confusion, she didn’t seem surprised, it was very clear that she was lying, and Zinnia seems to know why Calytrix wanted to protect Magnolia’s identity...

But either way, Calytrix was given more chores than she usually does that day as punishment for lying.

Once the day came to meet the King and Queen, Calytrix got ready as her aunt fixes her up, Calytrix felt nervous, after all she was finally meeting the King and Queen, yeah sure they seem good people as she read the letter with Aunt Zinnia but she can’t be too sure, what if they’ll hate her and won’t allow her to meet Magnolia again if she made a mistake in front of them? Many thoughts had gone through Calytrix’s head.

“Are you ready to go?” her aunt asked, interrupting her thoughts. It seems like her aunt was done fixing her up, but Calytrix could just nod in nervousness, Zinnia sighed.

“It’s gonna be okay Caly, The King and Queen are one of the nicest people I have known, besides I just told you that I’ve known them for a long time, just trust me Calytrix” Zinnia smiled softly at her niece, which made Calytrix feel at ease a bit, and Calytrix smiled back, they both went to the castle, but not without the people in the kingdom staring at them with confusion and hatred, Zinnia doesn’t mind but Calytrix tried not to notice the stares as they went inside the castle.

Inside the castle it was full of floral decorations and shimmering light, and once they went to the throne room, they could see The King, The Queen, and Princess Magnolia, sitting on the thrones, Zinnia kneeled down while Calytrix does the same, she was just following what her aunt does as she doesn’t quite understand royals much.

“Zinnia, it has been awhile, sit up, there is no need to bow like that, we are friends after all” The King starts off, Zinnia softly smiled and stood up, Calytrix scrambled to stand up.

“But I must, after all, I do respect you both, being my friends since our school days, and offering me and my niece to stay here, you both have grown to be the quite good rulers you know” Zinnia said, as suddenly a glow came from her hands, as the glow formed, she have seemed to make a Zinnia Flower “A gift, for the three of you” Zinnia kneeled again and presented the flower to them, which, Calytrix once again followed, The King and Queen looked at each other and smiled, while Magnolia giggles at the sight of her friend kneeling down, after all this is practically the first time she sees Calytrix kneeling down.

“Thank you for the Kind gift, Zinnia” The Queen said, clapping her hands, and thus they talked and talked, scheduling for the playdate and even laughing along, both Magnolia and Calytrix were quiet while the grown ups talked until The Queen suggested for them to play outside, to which made both Calytrix and Magnolia happy, They went out and played.

‘Why is the Princess hanging out with some...Low life witch..?’ a boy in the garden thought, the boy had a blonde frizzy hair, a gardener’s dirty clothes, and eyes colored as envy, He looked like a Yellow Hyacinth, he stared at the princess and the witch, he looked at the princess with pity, while he then looked at the witch with disgust.

“Oi! Hyacinth, get back to work won’t ya?! Quit staring at the Princess and the witch” a man yelled at the boy, who was named Hyacinth, “yes father” Hyacinth quickly says as he went back to work with gardening, but it seems like he can’t take his mind off the scene he just saw, just who does the witch think she is?

—————

Author’s note:

Part 2 of this story! Honestly there’s not much to say other than the sudden character introductions, so yeah.

Bonus Art for Calytrix though!

[royaltysimblr]

The Children of James V & Ophelia

1. James VI, King of Windenburg & San Myshuno (1636-1676) 2. Charles III, King of Windenburg & San Myshuno (1638-1680) 3. Louise, Queen Consort of Almeria (1641-1679) 4. Henrietta, Princess Consort of Brichester (1642-1673) 5. Prince George, Duke of Henford (1647-1666) 6. Sophie, Dauphine of Magnolia (1650-1672)

After the death of King Charles III, his daughter, Matilda, ascended the throne as Queen Matilda II. She reigned until 1714 and left an unclear plan of succession, causing the War of Windenburgian Succession which lasted from 1714-1720. Carlos I of Almeria attempted to claim the Windenburgian throne through the claim of his mother, Princess Louise, the eldest daughter of James and Ophelia. Many people did not consider Carlos's claim valid, because he was Jacoban. George Heinrich, Elector of Wittenburg and his wife, Princess Adelaide of Brichester, both grandchildren of Windenburgian Princesses, were the other claimants to the throne who were supported by the Peteran Kingdoms. The bloody war tore the Simtinent up and almost destroyed the Windenburgian Empire. In the end. George Heinrich and Adelaide's son, Joseph, would ascend the throne.

[sircantus]

I could write a brand new fic right now and literally no one can stop me isnt that wonderful and beautiful and lovely to witness yeah ignore the screams of my readers pleading for me to commit to one story they will read seventy seven different aus at wildly different paces and they will like it

[stereo-91]

WIP - NOW AVAILABLE - 18th Century English Parliamentary Items

We have tried to create some items from the 18th-century House of Commons since political fever has recently hit various countries. Since we like creating historical CC we decided to make some items from the old English House of Commons.

We have had to adapt it to fit the rules and boundaries of the game but it all works well.

This mini set is great for historical storytelling and allows you to build a House of Commons themed debating room.

This set includes:

1 Speaker's Chair/Throne

2 Parliamentary Benches

1 Functional Debating Station (Needs Discover University Pack to work)

1 Very Large Fireplace

2 Friezes

2 Tall Wall Panels

1 Small panel

2 Window Panels

1 Railing

1 Banister

1 Banister/Railing Post

1 Triangular Panel For Stairs

1 Wall Column

1 Column With Candlestick Holder

2 Fake Balconies

1 Over Door Head Panel

1 Door

Part 2 may follow in future

We Hope You Enjoy

LINK:

[aubreyplazawife]

Missing Bridgerton?

{the buccaneers has a great lesbian couple!}

assuming you have rewatched bridgerton & queen charlotte many times and need a show to fill the gap i highly suggest the buccaneers it is my favorite and a must see!

i just started harlots and i’m already hooked plus Hannah Dodd & Nicola Coughlan are in it! i watched reign forever ago and loved it. haven’t watched sanditon yet but there is a mlm couple.

a few not pictured recs i haven’t seen yet: my lady jane, the great, the empress, belgravia, the white princess, blood sex and royalty

[promptsforthestrugglingauthor]

Writing Prompt #2921

"You promised you'd love me!" The queen's glass shattered at her husband's feet.

"Turns out, I'm not capable of that."

"I gave up everything for you! Do you understand that?"

"You're free to do as you wish. Enjoy who and what you want, as long as you keep discreet. Consider us business partners, if you must."

[wewantmods]

👑 26+ Sims 4 Royal Furniture CC: Beds, Sofas, & More

As promised earlier this week, we released our Sims 4 Royal Furniture CC post to compliment our Royal Clothing and Accessories post.

This post focuses on all the amazing furniture pieces you will need to fill up your amazing palances or castles.

🤴🏻 Find the royal furniture collection here. 🏰

Thanks to cc creators: @annadedanann @strangestorytellersims @anachrosims @thegoldensanctuary @themarblemortal @aggressivekitty @brazenlotus @thejim07 @lustrousims @natalia-auditore @felixandresims @lilis-palace