#social class young royals

[raincitygirl76]

I agree with the OP that August loves Sara, and he is not personally bothered by her neurodivergence. If anything he finds her inability to act like “normal” people charming and refreshing. Sara has her faults, but there’s no denying she’s fiercely authentic. For August, who is constantly putting on a facade, terrified of what people will think of him, I suspect Sara’s attitude is liberating.

She already knows his most shameful secrets, and she likes him anyway. So he doesn’t have to pretend with her. Keeping up a front all the time is exhausting. Having a person you can be yourself around without being judged for it is would feel safe. Especially since August is someone who canonically keeps up a facade around every person on the planet he’s ever met except Sara.

That said, I don’t think they would’ve worked out long term, especially if August were to become Crown Prince. I think the royal court would’ve been dead against Sara. Her mother’s an immigrant, her dad’s an addict, and her autism spectrum disorder would probably make royal meet and greets tricky. And then there’s the Simon connection. And I think eventually August would’ve come to understand that it wasn’t ever going to be “King August and Queen Sara”. Not if Kristina or the royal court had anything to say about it.

He would’ve been encouraged to move on from a youthful indiscretion and date a more suitable candidate for Crown Princess. And August wants to be king someday very badly. Eventually if his love for Sara had come into conflict with his royal ambitions, the ambitions would’ve won out. Although I think it would’ve been a hard decision for him. Because no neurotypical aristocratic trophy wife will ever see the ugly secret parts of him and want him anyway.

Which is all assuming Sara wouldn’t have dumped him before it got to the marriage proposal stage. Sara is in love for the first time (just like her younger brother). And when the boy she loves betrays her trust in 2.06, she acts decisively. In the shooting range scene, she says “I was in love with him”, past tense. And walks away.

She also refuses her dream gift (Rousseau) as an apology gift from her boyfriend. Granted, August had not originally intended Rousseau as an apology gift. But the confident way he seeks Sara out on Jubilee morning suggests he’s sure his lavish gift will be a decisive factor in her forgiving him. It doesn’t work.

Emotionally, August approaches this jubilee morning conversation as, “My girlfriend and I fought yesterday, and she’s still pissed at me. But my incredibly generous, thoughtful present will help bring her around.” Whereas Sara approaches that same conversation as, “That lying piece of shit I dumped yesterday is trying to bribe me to forgive him. What an asshole. And what a fool I was to ever trust him.” And then as soon as she gets on the bus, she calls the cops on August. She is DONE with him.

Now obviously there could be alternate realities where the shooting range scene (and its knock on effects) never happened. But judging by how decisive Sara is in canon once she’s decided to cut August loose, I think she’d act just as decisively in an AU. Sooner or later she’d realize the August in her head is a better person than the August who actually exists. And dump him.

I think whether august got pressured into dumping Sara by the queen and the royal court, or whether she dumped him, August would always see her as the one who got away.

P.S. I think he’ll go back to being a shitty, selfish asshole in bed with whatever aristocratic woman the royal court picks out for him to marry and breed with. The sex scene between him and Felice in S1 was light years away from the generous lover he was with Sara. Sara actually mattered to him, she wasn’t just a trophy girlfriend. So he prioritized her having a good time too. A future suitable girlfriend/wife, one he’s not crazy about, with a marriage of dynastic convenience? She’s going to have very lousy sex with August. He won’t bother, because she won’t matter, not like Sara did.

August och Sara

Thinking about August again. Thinking about his difference in relationships. Thinking about how he treated Felice vs how he treated Sara.

I think August was — is — genuinely in love with Sara. Like head over heels, the way Wille loves Simon, in love with Sara. It’s even more obvious when you think about how he treats her vs how he treated Felice in season one.

In season one, he says he’s going to marry Felice, but really he means he’s going to sleep with Felice. He tells Erik it’s better to get them when they’re “too insecure to object.” He had no intention of anything serious with Felice. He says he wants to take her on a date. He mentions flying her to a Michelin Star Restaurant, but only after she mentions how the only thing around is the lowly pizza place in Bjärstad. During sex he focused on his own pleasure. He told her not to closer her eyes. He didn’t want to be intimate with her (the position they’re in literally prevents any eye contact). He was using her. Every scene with Felice was impersonal at best. When they took their “relationship” public, he didn’t act much differently. He just walked her over to her friends (notice they didn’t talk about it with his friends) and then he moved on. He kissed her best friend to get back at her for being friends with Wilhelm. When they broke up, he was mostly upset that he was publicly called out. It wasn’t about Felice or losing her.

Now with Sara… Jesus Christ with Sara.

He talks about not just marrying Sara, but making her Queen. And he means it. He has every intention of being serious with Sara and staying serious with Sara. He wants to bring her to the ball. He sets up candles in his room for her with champagne. He waits patiently and plans to take her to the dance, not just see her there or meet her there or take her home after. He wants to do the whole thing. The whole song and dance of taking her as his date. The first time they have sex he immediately makes it about her and she cuts him off and says to stay up with her. He tries to make it about her pleasure and she stops him. In fact, the first time they have sex, he just invited her over to talk. He literally had no intention of sleeping with her. There are many many moments of them lying in bed together and being intimate. He lets her sleep late in his bed. He actively makes sure she gets enough sleep, but also makes sure she has the privacy she wants when she leaves. When she shows up at his door upset he comforts her. He does it in the hallway where anyone can see and he doesn’t care. He wants to be public with Sara (ie the dance invite). When it all goes tits up, he doesn’t break about Sara. She has to be the one that confesses because he won’t do that to her. He literally would have taken the bullet to make sure her friends and family didn’t find out what she did.

But the most damning piece of evidence I have for August being in love with Sara is the fact that he bought that damn horse.

You wanna know how he paid for that horse?

He sold art from his inheritance. He sold a painting. Something that he could get rid of quickly and make money quickly so he could buy that stupid horse that Sara loves so much.

In season one August cannot pay his tuition. His mother tells him to sell a painting because it will pay his tuition “a hundred times over.” Do you know what his response was in that moment?

“I would rather die.”

In season one he would rather die than sell that painting.

August is equating Sara’s unhappiness with death. Literal death.

He could not care less about her imperfections. He does not care that she blew him off a few times. He does not care that she shows up in his room smelling like a horse. He does not care that she’s blunt. He does not care that she’s autistic or has ADHD (which notice he never once took advantage of to fuel his drug habits). He does not care that she’s Simon’s sister. He does not care that, had he one day actually made her a queen, he would have difficulties with introducing her to royalty and the royal life. August does not care.

The only thing he cares about is her.

I’m distraught over this.

[raincitygirl76]

Omar Rudberg is a very attractive young man. So I find it hilarious (though somewhat sobering) that nobody at Hillerska seems to notice Simon is gorgeous. All because he’s a lowly non-resident (and a socialist to boot, who refuses to act grateful to be allowed around his social betters), they pretend Simon’s looks are nothing out of the common way. It shows the pressure of class solidarity.

Makes me wonder, though, how many Hillerska boarders secretly have crushes on Simon. Because, you know, they have eyes, even if they don’t dare admit it to their friends because it would be social suicide. Are there girls in Simon’s classes who wistfully sigh over how aesthetically appealing he is? Or fellow choristers who covertly watch him sing when they’re supposed to be watching the music teacher and/or reading their scores?

I wonder how many girls quietly cried themselves to sleep right after the video came out. And told their curious roommates they were crying because apparently the Crown Prince is unattainable. But really they were crying because apparently Simon Eriksson is gay. And therefore definitely off the market, if those girls ever got up the guts to cross class lines and acknowledge how crush worthy he is.

P.S.

Incidentally, I don’t think Simon intentionally went back in the closet when he moved to Hillerska. It’s just we know from 1.01 that hardly anyone has spoken to him since the start of the school year. It’s kind of tough to come out to people who are pretending you don’t exist and won’t talk to you.

And then Wilhelm arrived, and was obviously interested but extremely closeted himself. So Simon had a large incentive not to arouse the suspicions of their Hillerska school mates by coming out himself. I don’t think Simon was hiding in S1 so much as just not choosing to actively bring it up. I’m pretty damn sure if someone had asked him flat out, he would’ve said he’s gay. But nobody did ask, so he and Wilhelm could continue to fly under the radar as close platonic friends.

We can also infer from Saran’s comment in 1.03 “Why are you sneaking around?” That at Marieberg, Simon was out and proud. But he wasn’t a pariah at Marieberg. People actually talked to him there. And he wasn’t deeply in love with a closeted guy at Marieberg.

It could also be another reason (as if Simon needed another) that Simon feels so betrayed by Wilhelm denying the video in 1.06. Simon has already compromised his principles for Wilhelm even before the video, by making allowances for Wilhelm’s closeted status and sneaking around secretively. And Wilhelm repaid Simon having previously compromised his principles by abandoning him altogether.

It’s one thing to let people assume you’re platonic friends and not actively correct them. It’s a whole other ballgame for Wilhelm to actively lie to the press and the entire world. Assertively affirming his (nonexistent) heterosexuality and his single status.

[dusty-daydreams]

The thing about Hillerska shutting down though, is that it will only really hurt Simon and Sara. Everyone else attending can and will be transferred to equally privileged schools. Sure it would be disruptive to the third years about to graduate, but chances are (realistically) a shut down wouldn’t happen until after the school year was finished.

Simon and Sara don’t have those resources, Hillerska shutting down means that they go back to their local high school, where Sara was so severely bullied she fell behind a year in school.

I understand the symbolism behind it in the show, Hillerska is privilege epitomised, and if they are going the tear it all down shutting down the school is a clear symbol of that in the narrative.

But Hillerska isn’t the class system, it’s just an outgrowth of it. Shutting down the school would just be another act that disproportionally impacts it’s poorest students.

[bberry005]

so i'm like a somewhat casual young royals fan and the new season dropped yesterday and even though i haven't seen all of it yet, i have to say the best thing they've done this season is show that wilhelm is still steeped in the views of the monarchy and nobility and the highest class and that its difficult for him to make that ideological switch and acknowledge that it actually is on him to do something. i think the main fan perception was that wilhelm obviously knows what a difference he can make and that it's easy for him to become an advocate and switch up his views. i love that the show illustrates that in the end he is a part of the system and benefits from it and he genuinely can't see the true wrong with it. it makes for a better and more complex storyline for him and i love it.

[raincitygirl76]

This is fabulously interesting. I urge you to click on the cut!

Some thoughts on the hierarchy at Hillerska

A few days ago, @raincitygirl76 made a really intriguing post about how the show is about the class system (find it here!), mainly focusing on Hillerska’s impact as an employer and the types of students who go there.

That inspired me to go off on a tangent and make a separate post about the hierarchy. I’ve been using Agnes Hellström’s book about the real boarding schools (‘Att vara utan att synas: Om riksinternaten Lundsberg, Sigtuna och Grenna’, 2013) as a fanfic reference, so I’m also using that here. It was written  back when the schools were still allowed to charge for tuition, and I’m sure things have improved since then. However, much of the content is pretty consistent with what Lisa has said about doing research for YR and what we see in the show.

Disclaimer: I’m not Swedish, just a Nordic neighbour, and these are just my own impressions. If I’m wrong about something, please feel free to add on to this or correct me!

Keep reading

[its-rach-writes]

Cinnamon and Art Galleries - Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Your friend, Emily brings a cute stranger to your art exhibition.

Warnings: fluff, fluff, more fluff, probably ooc Spencer

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this! This was my first time writing for Spencer so he's probably out of character but please let me know what you think! I love you all! xxx

You smiled as you drew the cat in the hot chocolate foam and handed it to the little girl on the other side of the counter with her mom. It melted your heart when her face lit up and she waved at you as her mom steered her out of the café. It was slow in your café today but you didn’t mind, you used the time to set up for the beginner art class you were going to be teaching on Saturday.

“Hey girl,” you glanced up when the bell rang and your friend Emily walked in.

You smiled when you saw her and gave her a wave. She was the first friend you had made when you moved to DC.

“Hey,” you smiled, “having the usual?”

“Please,” she grinned.

You got to work, making her one black coffee, the other was a milky coffee with a shot of cinnamon syrup. You knew that Emily drank the black coffee so you couldn’t help but wonder who the overly sweet coffee was for. You carefully selected the cinnamon roll with the most frosting and slid it into a bag, being careful to not let it stick to the paper bag.

“I believe congratulations are in order,” Emily started and you scoffed with a laugh.

As soon as you found out your art was going to be featured in an exhibition, Emily was the first person you told, “the team are coming to see it.”

You raised an eyebrow, secretly you were grateful, “FBI Agents don’t have anything better to do?”

She laughed, “not tonight, I even managed to talk the good Dr into coming.”

“The elusive Spencer Reid?” you rested your hip against the counter as you handed her the coffees, “how did you manage that?” from what Emily had told you, it didn’t seem like Spencer Reid liked social situations.

“I’ve got killer interrogation skills,” she smirked, “he’s cute too.”

You internally groaned, yours and Emily’s definition of ‘cute’ were very different, for all you knew Spencer Reid was an aging Professor, “as long as you don’t try and set us up, like you tried with me and Morgan.”

“No promises,” she laughed as she backed out of the café, “I’ll see you tonight.”

Later that night, you were sipping champagne as people perused your exhibition, your paintings were both inspired by Pre-Raphaelite art and the King Arthur legends. You noticed a man was standing at your painting of the Knights of the Round Table, so you walked over and decided to strike up a conversation.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” his lips twitched into a small smile as he looked down at you with gorgeous deep brown eyes, “you’re the artist right?” when you nodded, he looked back at the painting, “you’re really good.”

“Thanks, I love Pre-Raphaelite art.”

“Did you know that the Pre-Raphaelites were a secret society of young artists, founded in London in 1848? They were opposed to the Royal Academy’s promotion of the ideal as exemplified in the work of Raphael,” he blurted this out like he’d memorised it from a textbook and you worked hard to conceal a laugh.

“I did know that,” you giggled.

“Right of course,” he flushed, “of course you knew that.”

Something struck a memory, something that Emily had told you, “wait, are you Spencer Reid?” he looked at you with slightly wary eyes before nodding and you smiled, “I’m Y/N, Emily has told me so much about you.”

“It’s all lies,” he joked and glanced over his shoulder, “she’s making the most of the bar right now.”

You laughed as you looked over too and she waved, lifting up a glass in a motion of cheers. When she had said Spencer was cute, it was an understatement, he was young and gorgeous.

“Are you interested in art?” you asked as you sipped your champagne.

Spencer nodded, “I like looking at it, I’m afraid I’m not very artistic.”

“And here, we thought you were perfect,” you heard a chuckle from over your shoulder and you turned to see Derek Morgan and the rest of the BAU, Morgan pulled you into a hug, “congratulations sweetheart.”

“Thanks,” you smiled as you pulled away and looked at the others, “thank you for coming.”

It was a great night and you were grateful for everyone that came but soon, you were starting to get overwhelmed so you went out onto the balcony for a cigarette. Though it seemed as though someone else had beaten you to it. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced over his shoulder and smiled at you.

“Hey, you want some company?”

“Sure,” he smiled.

There was comfortable silence for a while as both of you looked over at the lights of DC, your cigarette smoke curling in the air. Soon enough, Spencer spoke up.

“So what do you do? Is art your full time thing?”

“I own the café by the library, but I’m integrating art into the café, I’m teaching a beginner class at the weekend from there.”

“No way! Seriously?” he smiled, looking animated, “your coffee is so good and your cinnamon rolls? Amazing.”

You laughed, “Emily gets the cinnamon roll with the most frosting for you?”

“Yeah,” he flushed, he opened his mouth to say something else when he was interrupted by Aaron Hotchner.

“Reid, we just got called in,” he glanced at you, an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“No, it’s okay,” you smiled when Spencer pushed himself off the railing, “it was really nice to meet you Spencer.”

He flushed and offered you a shy smile, “it was nice to meet you too, I’ll see you soon?”

You nodded and Emily pulled you into a tight hug, whispering in your ear, “I’ll make sure he sees you soon,” you laughed, shaking your head as she pulled away.

On Saturday, you were setting up for the art class when you heard the tinkle of the bell and you glanced up. None other than Spencer Reid was standing in the open doorway, the sun like a halo around his head.

“Thought you might need a hand.”

[sukirichi]

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 011 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. 18+.modern royal au. infidelity. angst. reader is confused with her feelings. toxic characters. toxic relationships. smut. unedited. implied dub-con. smoking. getting drunk. physical violence.

notes. @sunasbabie bullied me into updating so here it is. alsoo the start of suna’s downfall arc???

wc. 11.8k

series masterlist 

[ ELEVEN ] I care, I care, I care like perfume that you wear, I linger all the time, watchin’, hidden in plain sight. ooh I try, I try, I try, but it takes over my life. I see you everywhere, the sweetest torture one could bear

Rintaro had known from a very young age he was different.

He had brothers, quite a number of them, and yet even when everyone had their own maids and butlers, Rintaro stuck out like a sore thumb. For one, they were strictly not allowed to call him by his name. He was never Rintaro – always His Highness or Crown Prince. He was never allowed to play with his brothers, either, despite being close in age to most of them. Instead, he stood watching from the windows of his study as they frolicked and lived like normal boys. They attended school, played sports, made friends – the normal way of living, even for Princes. But Rintaro wasn’t like that. Her Majesty had different expectations for him. That because he was the only son of the King and Queen, he simply had to be better than the rest.

No, he had to be the best, and he believed it at some point.

Until Her Majesty announced it was about time he learned some ‘proper socializing’ into society. She’d enrolled him in the same private academy as his brothers, got chauffeured to and fro, and was expected to give nothing but the best of grades when he returned. It sounded simple enough – study, excel, and prepare himself for the throne.

No one had warned him that high school came with other unexpected surprises, one that came in the form of a brown eyed beauty he’d been eyeing since his first day.

Her name was Iris – top of the class, all long, lean legs, and a mop of long, wavy hair. It was hard not to notice her. She was popular, in the way that everyone asked her for her notes, and you could trust her to whisper the correct answer when you’d been called to recite in the middle of the class. An academic overachiever, a teacher’s pet – they all had some sort of name for her. A stickler for the rules, too, always appropriately dressed and speaking in polite, clipped tones. She spoke in a manner elders would love, and Rintaro found that fact rather endearing. He wasn’t a great reader of people, but he could tell one thing: Iris was not her true self.

Her smile might be respectful, but something about the way her lips twitched when being told what to do gave him an idea that perhaps she wasn’t as obedient as she made herself to be. And she was always helping others, putting others before herself, but she never did it looking satisfied.

Rather, it seemed that her actions always stemmed from one thing: obligation.

Iris was not who she is because it was her, down to her nature, but because she felt she had to be. It was such a quality Rintaro resonated with. To deny oneself, and to put duty and order first. They both walked with stiffness in their shoulders, with the weight of the world on their heads. They were simply too young to be caring about such. And Rintaro found it unfair – how they’d been deprived of their right to normalcy and had a future they never even wanted shoved down their throats. He couldn’t speak entirely for her, of course.

They had entirely different backgrounds – with Iris as a foreign scholar, who had to work twice as hard to prove she was worthy as any local, and then there was Rintaro, who couldn’t really tell which parts of him were himself, or fabricated by the throne.

They were both young people who lied to themselves. And strangely enough, he found comfort in that. He found comfort in her. He felt less alone when she was around, and she’d definitely made her presence known. Whether it be slipping notes into his desk and walking away without a word, or sharing her milkbread with him during lunch – which he found hilarious, yet cute – or when she simply made the effort to get to know him.

Not the Crown Prince, but Rintaro.

She began to ask things about himself that he’d never thought of before. Like what his favorite food was – he blanked out, because he wasn’t supposed to be picky with food, so he just ate anything. Or what his favorite game was, and sometimes, she’d even asked him to teach her, even if bringing cell phones in class were prohibited.

She made him feel like a real person. She didn’t treat him specially; she didn’t swoon or fall to her feet when he entered a room. She spoke to him normally, treated him like a friend when no one would dare call him as such.

To her, he was just Rintaro. He could just be. And before he’d realized it, he began to look for her – in the hallways, watching her talk to her friends, or being curious on what snacks she brought so he could buy some for her next time, or intentionally trying to get partnered with her on any project.

But he hadn’t fallen for her.

Not until that day they’d rain poured over them unexpectedly, and they retreated under the nearest tree. Class had long been dismissed, and pretty much everyone had left – save for the two of them due to a late tutoring session. Rintaro struggled with English, but Iris was great at everything. And it was also a good excuse to spend more time together.

“You know, you’re different from what I expected,” Iris spoke, tilting her head up to catch some raindrops falling from the leaves with the tip of her finger. “When they said the Crown Prince was going to attend class, I figured you would be more… uptight. Strict. Or, you know, perhaps more arrogant than your brother.”

Rintaro fought the urge what she thought of him now. He’d become curious about it lately, unhealthily so. He wanted her to like him, to think positively of him – to be more than just ‘handsome’ or ‘charming’ or ‘regal.’ Because he most definitely wasn’t regal around her. He could be more himself, which is why he slouched, learned to smoke, longed for a tattoo, and even learned how to curse. Because he wasn’t Crown Prince Rintaro. He was just a normal high school student, Rin. Rin who stood under a tree while rain poured heavily against the pavement, next to a pretty girl who wore strawberry flavored chapstick and introduced him to a world he never imagined he could be part of.

If she had said he was regal, and well-mannered, he would’ve taken offense. But he didn’t ask, turning his gaze away from the way Iris leaned back against the damp tree and pulled out a cigarette. Even the way she smoked had him fascinated because it meant as a sign of trust to him.

The good, perfect student Iris was no longer perfect around him. She trusted him enough to let her guard down, and reveal her flaws. She had no need to impress him. In return, it made him want to impress her by mimicking her habits – even if he would’ve never dared doing them before.

“I have a lot of arrogant brothers. Which one are you talking about?”

“The ridiculously tall and talkative brunette in our year.”

“Tooru,” he said, gladly accepting when she offered him a stick. He didn’t light it though, because he was on his way home and didn’t want to reek of smoke. Well, if he was to be completely honest, he hated smoking. He didn’t like the way it burned his throat and made it itchy. But Iris smoked often, and she revealed more about herself each time she did, so he joined her. Everything he did was for her.

“Iris, why do you speak so casually to me?”

She shrugged and puffed out a smoky breath. “You just looked lonely. And everyone treats you like you’re fragile – always stumbling over their words or being excessively polite. I can tell it makes you uncomfortable, so… But if you truly mind, I can stick to the formalities. I just thought you might want someone to treat you like a normal person.”

“No, I-I don’t mind,” he reassured, “I like that you speak to me normally.”

“So, friends?”

He chuckled at that, and he didn’t stop her when she took out her lighter and lit her cigarette for him. He supposed one couldn’t hurt. “We have been friends for months now.”

“I know,” she beamed, “I’m just waiting to be invited over to your fancy Palace for tea parties.”

“I don’t even like tea.”

“Shame. I would’ve killed for some expensive drinks.”

And so their unexpected friendship began until they were practically attached to the hip. Wherever Iris went, Rintaro followed. She’d started calling him ‘Rin’ too, and Rin had to hide how much he liked it. He blushed madly each time he did, and it didn’t help that Iris had become more physically comfortable with him – locking arms together when they walked in the hallway, absentmindedly brushing his bangs back during their tutoring sessions, or laying on his lap when she had a book to read as they hid in the corner of the library. Each touch of her skin against his sent heat to his groin. It embarrassed him, because he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about his ‘friend’ like that, but could you blame him? He was a growing teenager. He wasn’t immune to a pretty girl’s subtle touches.

“You know, you can make it less obvious that you’re staring at the scholar.”

Glancing away from Iris playing volleyball with her friends, Rintaro glared at his brother. He shared classes with Tooru, but otherwise barely spoke to him. Tooru was too loud and confident; a little flashy for his liking. He also basked in the attention he received from the girls, shamelessly flirting with them and getting their hopes up.

Rintaro thought he was an ass.

“Shut up.”

“Well, well, can you believe that? I believe the Crown Prince just uttered a vulgar phrase that would surely displease Her Majesty. I wonder if she’ll ground you tonight for being such a naughty Prince.”

Rintaro glared at him, gesturing to Tooru’s childhood friend lurking in the corner. “Don’t you have anything better to do? Like reject that poor girl showering you with gifts again?”

Tooru sighed, and upon seeing Maiko’s face light up when he looked her way, he bid his farewell. “Don’t remind me.”

His brother suddenly disappeared. He almost felt bad for Maiko, the heiress from the Rai Clan. She grew up having multiple play dates with Tooru, and they’d been close all the way to middle school when she grew a crush on him – a crush nearly bordering on obsession. When she invited him over to play with her new puppy around the ninth grade, Tooru was met with a ten feet portrait of him in her bedroom. Tooru hadn’t spoken to her ever since. But the poor girl was too innocent to understand his rejections, and she kept following him like a lost puppy.

Not that Rintaro was concerned. Neither was his brother concerned with him, anyway, so they stayed out of each other’s way until they graduated.

Sometimes, Rintaro still wished he never graduated at all. Maybe Iris wouldn’t have disappeared, then. She didn’t have a phone, so they couldn’t keep in contact, but even if she did have a phone, Rintaro wouldn’t be allowed to be casually conversing with ‘commoners.’ Her Majesty would hate it. And he wasn’t certain where she went. Perhaps university, but last he’d heard, Iris was occupied with dealing with some family matters, and Rintaro stopped prying. Her family was one of the things Iris never spoke of. But from what little he knew, she only had a loving mother who did her very best to raise her alone.

Rintaro would’ve never expected that when they saw each other again, they would run into one another at the Palace, of all places. “Iris?” he couldn’t believe his eyes. Had he missed her so much he was beginning to hallucinate? “I don’t understand. What are you doing here?”

Iris looked like a deer caught in headlights.

He almost couldn’t recognize her. It’d been years since he last saw her and spoke with her, but she seemed entirely different now. She’d gone back to speaking in those forced, clipped tones, her posture perfect, and her smile a little stiff for it to be genuine. She’d been lying again to herself and to the world, but he couldn’t understand why. Rintaro still found it hard to believe that she stood in front of him, draped in lace dresses with the Royal emblem pinned to her right breast in the way royals did.

In the way he did.

“Your Highness,” she said, her tone sweet and airy, as she curtsied. Rintaro felt his stomach twist. This wasn’t the Iris he’d liked for so long. Iris didn’t speak sweetly, or said her words like she treaded on air and had that breathy, ridiculously feminine laugh. Iris’ voice was raspy from constant smoking, and when she spoke, it was always carefree. She never called him by his official title before, so why was she doing it now?

Rintaro couldn’t shake the feeling he was being betrayed.

“You mustn’t have been informed. I’m…”

“Do you serve the crown now?”

“No, no! Not quite in that way,” she smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. It was then he noticed the ring sitting on her finger. “I was married to your brother last night, my Prince.”

“Which brother?”

“Prince Kiyoomi.”

He felt like his world had been crushed.

He was never a hopeless romantic, but he was learning. She’d taught him what girls liked. And he… he thought she liked him, too. She must have, right? If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be staring at his lips when he talked. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t hold his hand and rub circles along his knuckles when they were alone together in the library. Or had he just fooled himself all this time? Was he really nothing but a friend to her?

Rintaro felt foolish all over again.

He felt like he was seven years old once more, holding back his tears while Her Majesty lashed at the backs of his thighs because he wasn’t able to memorize a clause from the Royal Acts and Commands. He heard the word ‘stupid, idiotic, slow,’ and ‘foolish’ resonating at the study room again, while his tutor shook his head in disappointment. Taking a step back, Rintaro released a shuddering breath. He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. Surely, she wouldn’t befriend him just to make a fool out of him, but if she did… she would pay. He was the Crown Prince. He would become King. He would punish her, humiliate her and put her in her place if she treated him cruelly – but nothing could have prepared him for Iris stepping forwards, eyes drooping with sultriness as her palms flattened against his chest.

Stepping on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his.

“But I wish it had been you.”

When she kissed him for the first time, Rintaro knew one thing for certain – she had ruined him for anyone else.

Rintaro isn’t a man quick to anger, but he was getting there.

To leave him for a trip with another man was one thing, but to completely leave him on radio silence was another. A whole week you’ve been gone and not once had you texted. No calls, no voicemails, not even an e-mail. He felt like he had no wife, and quite frankly, your determination to pretend he didn’t exist was getting on his nerves. What had he done wrong, anyway? Hadn’t he been sweet to you before you left? He wasn’t going to deny he made mistakes, but he was putting effort into making it all better. He hadn’t spoken to Iris when you were around. He ignored her, and avoided her even when you weren’t in the same room. And he fucking hated it – because why did you make him feel like he was a cheater when he loved her first?

And now, you were messing with his head. He was certain you were.

Apart from some photographs the paparazzi took of you shopping with Kanami, or sharing lunch with her or having coffee dates, he hadn’t seen you with Kiyoomi. He hadn’t the smallest clue what you were doing. Were you sleeping well? Better without him, maybe? Did you miss him, too, or were you just glad to finally be away from him?

He was going insane with every passing second you didn’t speak to him.

“You’ve been unusually quiet.”

Iris’ voice flittering through the loud noise of the music snapped him back to the present. Right. He was at a party attended by celebrities and models, with liquor in red cups and suspicious leaves and powder being passed to one another – the type of parties a Crown Prince shouldn’t be seen at. But the twins had insisted, claiming he should enjoy himself and ‘do whatever the fuck he wants’ since he didn’t have a wife around to criticize him. He thought it was stupid. He didn’t want to do anything to upset you, but Iris wanted to come along out of boredom – Kiyoomi was away fulfilling their duties for them as mediator between two countries, so she had nothing better to do. Besides, Rintaro figured Iris had been itching for these environments. She’d played the docile and agreeable Princess role for several years now. She must be tired of it, and as soon as she saw the opportunity to let loose and be her true self, she wouldn’t dare let it pass.

And maybe his brothers were right. There was nothing wrong with just taking some time for himself. If you could do it, why couldn’t he?

However, he couldn’t convince himself he enjoyed this party he was in. People were making out at dark corners of the hall, and he was pretty sure there were illegal activities happening tonight. Iris didn’t bat an eye on it. The twins, too, seemed to be enjoying themselves as they flirted with a model he’d seen before, but couldn’t care enough to remember the name of.

“Sorry,” Rintaro said, “I just have a lot on my mind these days.”

“Is it her? You can’t stop looking at your phone.”

Grimacing, he offered her an apologetic smile. Iris didn’t look jealous, but then again, it was hard to tell under the dim lights, and not when she was hugging her fifth cup of whatever foul-smelling liquor she seemed to indulge in. But neither did he want to offend her by lying, so he slid his phone back into the pocket of his jeans and feigned disinterest. “She hasn’t texted or called since she left. I have no idea how she’s doing at all,” he glanced at her, “Has Kiyoomi texted you?”

“As if that would happen,” she chugged her drink and gestured to the doors. “Let’s go. I need some fresh air.”

They exited and walked all the way to the balcony. On their way there, Iris hugged his bicep and leant against him, causing the passing by hotel staff to eye them warily. But Iris couldn’t care less, and Rintaro leveled the staff with a warning glare. They should know better than to say anything. Tonight, the world was theirs. Iris was in his arms, as free as they could be, as free as he always hoped, and he swore he wasn’t going to think about you.

With the fresh air kissing his exposed skin, Rintaro immediately felt better. He wasn’t surrounded by the stench of alcohol anymore. He could breathe better here. Leaning against the railings, he and Iris overlooked the Kingdom of Inarizaki laying beneath their feet.

At one point in time, he promised to give all of this to the woman beside him. They’d talked about having children and raising them in the Palace. How they would make great monarchs, and they could finally be powerful while still being free. With them on top of the world, no one could tell them what to do. They could simply be themselves. But just a hundred times better, because Iris would be beside him and sharing the burden of the Crown.

At least, until Rintaro realized none of that felt right.

You were his wife. He didn’t want to share this Kingdom with anyone else but you, although there was a more worrisome voice whispering at the back of his head – Rintaro didn’t want to share you with this world. He wanted to hide you and keep you for himself. He didn’t want you anywhere Kiyoomi, or Tooru. You were his. He was yours. He’s your husband, and you his wife.

You should be the one here with him, and he should be there with you.

Did you feel the same way, too?

Iris lit up a cigarette. Before he could think better of it, he snatched one from her and she lit it up for him, just like she did when they were younger. Her brows rose at his sudden eagerness, “You haven’t smoked since you met her.”

“I didn’t want her to think I smelled.”

“What’s the change?” she teased, “No longer worried she’ll think you reek because you’re married?”

“I just need the distraction.”

“Do you miss her?”

“I’m just worried.” He gritted his teeth, not liking how all of this just felt… wrong. Iris smelled too much of the old perfume she wore when they were teenagers, and it made him nostalgic in the worst kind of possible. Like recalling a childhood memory you thought was great at the time, but growing up completely changes your perspective on it. Rintaro hated it – how he tasted bitterness at something he once craved so much. Worse, he couldn’t keep lying to himself. He didn’t know where his heart was at yet, but something was different.

He desperately wanted to see you.

“I feel like… I feel like she’s going to leave me, Iris. Something’s changed.”

“You’ve changed, Rin,” she snapped, throwing her cigarette on the ground and stomping at it. Rintaro frowned; he’d seen her do it before when they were kids, but seeing her still do it now confirmed his theory: Iris still had her mean temper. She could never hide it even under silk dresses and velvet gloves. “You haven’t been the same since the honeymoon. I feel like we left behind the old you, and the one that came back is someone I barely know.”

Rintaro couldn’t deny it even if he wanted to. She was right. He’d changed. He didn’t know why, or how, but maybe he was falling in love. Could he be? No… maybe he just missed you. Maybe he just hated the way you seemed so resigned and distant when you left.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could tell her, because Rintaro was too lost.

“Are you changing your mind about me?”

“No, no. Gods, I would never. I just – I’m confused, okay? She’s mad at me, and she just left. What if she never speaks to me again?”

“She will. She’s your wife.”

“You don’t even speak to your husband,” Rintaro argued, and Iris rolled her eyes. Once, he would’ve found her irritation appealing. But directed at him? He just felt like he was being looked down on.

“That’s different. You know, Rin, if you’ve changed your mind about me, it’s okay. I already knew before this most likely wouldn’t work out, and even if you did become King and legalized divorces, what would happen, then? I’ll be your concubine,” she sneered, as if the mere thought sickened her. “People would reduce me into nothing but a whore. I don’t want to be hated just because I wanted you.”

Rintaro pursed his lips. Sure, the title ‘concubine’ didn’t come with many good meanings. But it was all he could give her. He couldn’t imagine making her his wife. Iris had too much of a temper for that, and with all the pretending and acts she puts on, he didn’t trust her enough to treat his people right when she wielded enough power.

She wasn’t kind like you.

She wasn’t like you.

He knew all of this, had realized it just now, yet he couldn’t bring himself to just go back. Running his hands through his hair, he sighed in defeat. “I’ve already gone this far. It’s a little too late to tell me to change my mind, you know?”

“I’m just reminding you this was your choice, not mine. And don’t forget if you do legalize divorces, and Kiyoomi and I did separate, does that mean you’ll divorce her, too?”

He threw his hands up in the air, frustrated. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because I’m not a whore, Rin. I’ve changed my mind. I no longer want to be just your sidepiece, your secret lover. I have been here with you before people even acknowledged your existence. I was here first. Don’t you think it’s unfair she gets to have you in all your glory and I can only have you in secret? Like what we feel for each other is something to be ashamed of,” tears pricked at her eyes, and Iris angrily wiped them away. Rintaro was frozen to his spot. He didn’t even feel like reaching to wipe them for her – his mind was just in a different place entirely. His exhaustion ran bone deep.

“If you want me to divorce Kiyoomi when you become King, you should divorce her too.”

“That wasn’t the plan. You said you were fine being a concubine–”

“It’s either me or her, Rin. Choose. Who will be your wife? Me or her?”

“You. It’s always going to be you.”

“Do you promise?”

“It’s just you!” he barked, surprising both himself and Iris. He’d never raised his tone with her before, yet there was no denying it – he was changing. Iris knew this, too, and Rintaro could tell by the wicked glint in her eye that she would use this against him.

Rintaro didn’t think twice before he slammed his lips to hers.

If she couldn’t be convinced with words, he would convince her with their bodies. It was how they communicated anyway – all arguments would always be resolved in the bedroom. They stumbled together back to his hotel room, lips only leaving one another’s for a brief moment to breathe, before they were clawing at each other’s clothes. She let out her rage on him by pushing him back to the bed, with her on top and ripping his shirt, uncaring of the remnants. When she kissed him, it was everything but sweet. He tasted nothing but hatred and pure anger as she shoved her tongue down his throat, and he choked, tightening his grip on her hips while she bounced.

They did not make love.

They simply shared their bodies for a lack of better things to say. He bruised her and fucked her hard enough the headboard slammed against the wall because he couldn’t say he missed you. She marked his skin with hickeys and claw marks down his back because she didn’t want to hear him say he missed you.

At talking, Rintaro and Iris lacked at.

But they spoke well enough with the violence of their bodies that by the end of the night, they both knew – Rintaro’s heart was no longer in the same room as them.

You took it with you from a thousand miles away.

Rintaro couldn’t sleep the entire night. Iris had passed out as soon as she’d satisfied herself, and after hogging the sheets all to herself, he’d given up on trying to sleep. It felt wrong to share the same bed with her, anyway. So he got up, showered, and scrolled on the latest news to look for you again. Still nothing – but apparently Itachiyama’s citizens were looking forward to you and Kiyoomi attending a movie’s premiere night.

He clutched his phone hard enough it shut off. Sighing, he leaned back against his seat on the couch, an arm draped around his arm. He’d gone past the borders of being pathetic. Now, he was just eager to see his wife again, but he had no way of communicating with you. So like the pathetic fool he was, he couldn’t stop himself from scrolling for hours when a rapid knocking banged down on his door. Frowning, he opened it, and was met with a shirtless Atsumu wrapped in nothing but a towel – his eyes bloodshot red, though he suspected, not from crying.

“‘Tsumu, what the fuck?” His brother reeked of alcohol and sex. Pinching his nose, he scanned the hallway for witnesses before opening his door wider. Atsumu scurried in without a word and plopped down on the seat, his knees bouncing repeatedly. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I… I fucked up.”

“Yeah? What’s new about that?”

“No, I mean, I really fucked up,” he groaned, his head falling to his hands. Rintaro immediately felt bad about him, Walking forwards, he crossed his arm against his chest, encouraging his brother to continue. “Listen, the party was going great, and Yuki just looked even better in person. And she was fucking funny and so perfect, man.  I couldn’t help myself. But she was flirting with ‘Samu more and I got jealous so–”

“What did you do?”

Atsumu’s Adam’s apple bounced as he swallowed. He couldn’t look Rintaro in the eye, and the latter was growing more nervous by the second. “I may have made her drink more than she can handle… and pretended to be Osamu. So she’d sleep with me.”

“You are screwed.”

“I know, I know, but she’s going to wake up soon, and I don’t know what to do. I left the room, and–”

“Okay, calm down. Where’s ‘Samu?”

“Downstairs, eating breakfast.”

“You stay right here.”

Iris chose the wrong time to wake up. She must’ve heard Atsumu’s frantic ramblings and sat up from the bed, clutching the blanket to her naked chest. Upon seeing an equally nude Atsumu, she screeched, throwing the nearest pillow at him. “‘Tsumu, get out!” Atsumu fought back by throwing a smaller pillow her way. They began bickering like small children, and it was too early for any of this. He could feel a pounding at the back of his head already.

Tired. He was just tired.

“Iris, please, just – just stay here, the both of you, okay? I’ll be back.”

At least Rintaro had Atsumu’s mess to thank. He finally had a good enough excuse to not spend another moment in that suffocating room with her – or any of them. He’d wanted to leave hours before, but Iris wouldn’t have taken it well if she woke up without him. For now, though, Rintaro had to take on the role of a responsible older brother; something he’d never done before. Taking quick strides, he swung the door open when Atsumu called out for him.

“Wait. Rin!” Rintaro paused, raising a brow at his brother, whose face had been drained of color. “I’m sorry… I just… I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll fix this.”

Rintaro himself wasn’t convinced by his words. Sure, it wasn’t unheard of before that the Princes got their sexual needs satisfied without having been married. Save for a few like Wakatoshi, Keiji, Kita, and Tobio who all wanted to wait for marriage, he was a hundred percent certain his brothers had been with women before. This normally wasn’t a cause for concern. But Hiroda Yuki wasn’t just anyone. She was a model currently rising to fame, and not only was she inebriated during the act, but she’d been led to believe the man she took to bed with someone else. If she were to found out the truth, and decided to turn to the media to ruin his brothers, it’d be another issue for the throne. It didn’t affect Rintaro directly, but times were changing – people were growing restless the longer the crown sat without its King.

It was high time they chose a King, but a very few number of Princes hardly seemed eligible.

As much as he hated to admit it, he knew Ushijima was the best choice to be King. He was fair, disciplined, and followed the rules to a tee. He also had a happy, stable marriage with a respectable noble woman, and they already have a healthy son. There weren’t any arguments that Rintaro paled in comparison to him.

But that didn’t mean he would give up so easily.

He wanted the throne. He wanted everything.

Shaking those thoughts out of his head, he headed for the lobby in search of the darker haired twin. He’d think about the Crown another time. Ducking his head to hide his face, he nodded at any passing staff and hid behind corners. It was only a matter of time before Yuki woke up. That presented another problem – should they hide the truth from her and keep Atsumu safe, or tell her what had really happened and risk having Atsumu be kicked out of the Palace?

Fuck. Rintaro didn’t know what to do, but maybe Osamu would.

His brother sat at the hotel’s dining area, happily digging into his meal without a care in the world. Oh, how lucky he was to be so ignorant. Out of the twins, Osamu was the more mild-mannered one and got into less trouble, but it didn’t change the fact Osamu was often the instigator, and Atsumu the willing victim who played into his hands. The situation felt more complicated now because Rintaro was unsure. Had Osamu planned this all along? Had he known that Atsumu wanted to sleep with Yuki and left them to themselves just when the both were drunk out of their asses?

Too many questions, and he struggled to form a coherent thought. But if he were Kita, he’d have this resolved within a second.

If he were Kita, but he wasn’t. He was just plain Rintaro, who wasn’t particularly great at anything, yet had unfortunately been branded with an extravagant title he never deserved.

Pulling out a seat before him, he narrowed his eyes at his brother. It was still early in the morning, so they had enough privacy with only very few people having breakfast. No one paid them any attention as Rintaro leaned forward, his voice low and hushed.

“Where were you last night?”

“Good morning to you, too, dear brother,” quipped Osamu through a mouthful of waffles, “Lovely set of breakfast they serve here. You should try some.”

“‘Samu, I’m serious. Did you stay at the party last night?”

Osamu, the little ass, took his sweet time chewing and swallowing before he spoke. “No, I went home after ‘Tsumu went out with the model. I just came back to pick him up. I figured he’d be too drunk to drive home.”

Rintaro wanted to ask for more details. There had to be more to the story. The twins were both cunning when they wanted to be, although he doubted Osamu would do anything to intentionally harm his twin. It seemed possible, but he couldn’t be too careful. None of them could afford any defamation lest the people decided for themselves how uncontrollable and unruly the Princes are. Their father had already broken the people’s trust by having multiple sons with different women. They treaded on eggshells, even more so when Rintaro opened his mouth to speak, and was cut off by the crowd whispering around them.

He and Osamu froze. They could barely make out the words from their mumbling at this distance, but they were no fools. They could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on them. With their phones pulled out, they whispered amongst themselves and sent looks of disbelief towards the Princes. Rintaro’s heart raced as he made eye contact with his brother.

They both pulled out their phones and checked the latest news.

An article published just a few hours ago trended worldwide at number one. A photograph of Rin and Iris making love could be seen through a window, with the headline implying that they were secretly lovers all along. His heart dropped. He scrolled down to the comments, his fist turning white at the knuckles as he read them.

That’s disgusting! Wasn’t Prince Rintaro recently married? It seems like being a cheater runs in the blood, after all. He’s just like his daddy To think they did this while their spouses were away for official duty… unbelievable. Disappointed, but not surprised. Princess Iris always seemed like a skank. Never liked her. She came to give aid when there was a storm in our village once, and she kept complaining she was tired. Now she’s going around sleeping with other people’s husbands *laughing sticker* lol she sounds like a bitch Is this real?????????? This has to be fake. The Crown Prince loves his wife! Delete this post now! You’re in trouble once the Palace sees this!

Rintaro pocketed his phone. “We need to leave.”

He dragged Osamu by the arm, ignoring his brother’s complaints that he hadn’t eaten his berries yet. One glare shut him up. They had bigger things to worry about than some stupid fucking berries.

“Call Shinsuke. We need help.”

All four of them hid in Rintaro’s room until Kita arrived. It hadn’t been long, maybe less than an hour, but the wait was nerve-wracking. Thankfully, he’d brought a security team with them. The Princes were escorted out through the back doors and into their cars, although it was too late. Reporters and journalists were already swarming outside the hotel. Kita had stayed back to tell the hotel staff they were not allowed to speak of what they saw or heard during last night’s party under no circumstances. The Princes’ safety were their utmost priority. Everything would be dealt with accordingly. Just as they pulled out of the hotel’s parking, Atsumu informed Kita about Yuki, and the situation he left her in.

Shinsuke’s lips thinned. Already, he looked bone tired. Waving a hand, he dismissed his brothers and promised he’d take care of her once she woke up. For now, they had to stay low and keep out of the public’s eye until the situation died down.

“You all best behave when you get back,” Shinsuke warned, “Her Majesty is furious.”

Of that, he had no doubt. Her Majesty had been eerily quiet since everyone’s return from the honeymoon. But Suna knew his mother better than anyone; she wasn’t letting things pass by, she was only watching from the sidelines, waiting to see who would drop the ball first. And to no one’s surprise, it would be Rintaro.

Her Majesty was right. He couldn’t keep this secret affair with Iris forever.

One way or another, the truth would be revealed, and the truth itself would be his damnation.

None of them uttered a word as they sat next to each other in the car. Atsumu’s still bouncing his leg, causing the seat to shake, but Osamu could care less. He simply gazed out the window. Iris, on the other hand, hadn’t stopped crying, her shoulders shaking silently. Mascara ran down her face in streaks, her lipstick smudged and her torn dress doing very little to hide the love marks on her skin. Gods. Rintaro’s headache worsened. If they got out of the car and the paparazzi took even one photo of Iris in her post-sex state, they were done for.

Rintaro could kiss his precious Crown goodbye.

Walking back to the Palace was akin to walking to your own death.

The lobby was torn upside down. Calling it a mess would be an understatement. The Queen stood in the middle of the furniture she’d flipped and thrown, shards of broken glass all around them as she heaved. The pure image of rage – and he had been the cause. “Fools! Idiotic fools, all of you!” she screamed, stomping through the glass as she reached up to fist Iris’ hair.

“Ow, Your Majesty–”

Her Majesty scrunched her nose at the scent of smoke and alcohol coming off from her, further fuelling her anger. “And you! By the Gods, I knew marrying you into this family was a grave mistake, but you just keep making me regret I ever laid eyes on you, don’t you? You lowly, good-for-nothing whore.”

“Mother!”

“You do not get to speak!” she turned to him and harshly let go of Iris, causing her to stumble and fall onto the broken glass. Panicked, Rintaro reached out for her, but the Queen had caught his arm, reared hers back and landed a slap on his cheek. Rintaro was stunned – she’d been harsh and cruel, but she never laid a hand on him. “Do you have any idea what you did? The throne is all in shambles because of you! The Cabinet hasn’t stopped bugging me ever since that article came out, and I have all our lines busy with people demanding for answers! And you dare raise your voice at me? I told you, multiple times, that you need to stop with your trysts. How will you be King now that you’ve lost the people’s trust?”

“He will not become King,” announced a deep voice they knew all too-well. Like a demon that only showed up in your worst nightmares, Ushijima strutted inside the room, an air of authority and finality surrounding him. “I should be the King. Help me have the throne, and I will resolve all of this,” he studied them all – Atsumu with his guilt, Osamu who was too scared of the Queen to move a single muscle, Iris clutching her bloodied arm, and Suna with disappointment written all over his features. “Clearly, he is not fit to lead this country. He is still but a foolish, young man.”

Foolish.

Stupid.

Reckless.

He’s just like his father.

He’d be a failure as King – just. Like. His. Father.

So that was who he was then. A failure. He’d become the one thing he swore not to be. How would you look at him now? You always gazed upon him with stars in your eyes, like he was the best thing to ever happen in your life. No one had ever looked at him that way before – not his mother, not even Iris. In Iris’ eyes, he was simply… a boy. A boy with no knowledge and experience in this world, a boy who she felt she had to teach because he knew so little. Only you looked at him with adoration, and even that had been taken away. Or, no, he ruined it. Just as he was the reason you used to smile, he’d also become your greatest pain. And maybe, once you’d returned him and seen how the entire country and his whole family had hated him, you would see him for who he is too – nothing but a failure.

The good for nothing Prince.

He should have known. The Palace was no place for the likes of him. He should have just stopped trying so hard to be King. He should have never used Iris as an excuse to quell his insecurity. But was it truly a crime to want to feel like he was needed?

He didn’t know anymore. The only thing he knows now was that he needed to leave, and without another word, stepped out of the room.

“Rintaro! Where are you going?!”

He ignored his mother calling for him. Perhaps he should stop calling her that, too. She’d barely been a mother. She was more of a Queen, bending and breaking her back to His Majesty’s will. She loved the crown and the power it gave her more than anything, that she willingly sacrificed her dignity to keep her position. For many nights, Rintaro watched his mother leave their quarters crying, battered and bruised. It was confusing for a young boy like him. Weren’t mommies and daddies supposed to love one another? But the Queen would scold him for being awake past midnight, and rush him back to bed while she limped on her way. She never loved the King, and because he was his son, she never loved him, too.

Rintaro was nothing but another tool for Her Majesty to stay in power.

She could never become King and hold the Kingdom for herself, but he could. Wasn’t that why she kept him locked away for years and groomed him to take in his Father’s steps?

I kind of did, he thought sarcastically, I’m a horrible husband just like him.

When you arrived in Inarizaki, the country was in chaos. People flocked you from left and right when you and Kiyoomi left the plane, causing the older Prince to break his silence and scold the nosy reporters. Flabbergasted at his sudden outburst that seemed out of character; they lowered their cameras and gave you enough breathing space. The peace, however, did not last long. Her Majesty was furious beyond what one can imagine – akin to a dragon breathing fire down to anyone who dared come near her tower. The twins, who apparently started this fire and caused Rintaro to be the fuel, had been shut away in their rooms in fear of angering her. Iris, from what little you heard about her, was being ruthlessly flamed by the media. They’d called her all sorts of unkind things you would’ve never dared say out loud.

But for some reason, seeing their downfall did not give you any satisfaction.

Because at the end of the day, they were the people you and Kiyoomi returned to. You may walk down the same hallways in the Palace, but he would always be in Belleview Manor to look for her. And you were well on your way to search for the Crown Prince who walked out on his mother.

The guards took some time to find his location, but once they did, they did not hesitate in informing you. Everyone believed you were the only person he’d want to speak to right now. So you drove up to the mountains, where it was barren and cold, and you had to use a truck to survive the rocky terrain. Seriously, out of all the places he could be, he chose to wallow in misery at the top of the world – in the pouring rain, no less.

Boots muddied from the storm, you hopped out of your truck and opened an umbrella, clutching your coat tighter as you watched your husband from afar.

This mountain served as a border between Inarizaki and Itachiyama. From where you stood, you could see the two countries – Itachiyama with its rich nature, and Inarizaki with its towering Castles and bustling cities. Once a united nation, now split into two – all because of love. A tragic story, yet a realistic one. It only goes to show how powerful, and dangerous, love could be. You knew better than anyone that whatever made you happiest could also be your greatest demise.

And there was the said demise – crouching as he picked up pebbles and threw it off the mountain wall. He wore the same shirt as from the photograph; wrinkled and stained with lipstick. Even from this distance, you could smell her on him, and you wanted to laugh. Perhaps Kiyoomi was right – maybe they never loved each other. Maybe they were just lonely.

Extending the umbrella until your husband was shielded from the rain, you softened. Rintaro visibly froze when the rain stopped pelting against him. His wet hair stuck to his face, his shirt plastered on his skin.

A myriad of emotions flickered through his devastatingly handsome face: relief, worry, surprise.

You broke the silence first and crouched down next to him. When Rintaro stiffened, you smiled, showing him you were not here to be his enemy. “My Prince. You are a difficult man to find.”

“Princess,” he breathed out, and you realized the poor Prince was shivering. His face broke into that of despair upon seeing you. “I didn’t know you would be home so early.”

“I had some matters to attend to.”

“You saw the article,” he guessed, and you nodded. Rintaro then stood to his full height, and you followed, causing his head to bump into the umbrella since he was taller. For a moment, he crouched to fit in under the small space. But it was uncomfortable, and soon, he was gently taking the umbrella and holding it for the both of you – more for you, though, since rain still trailed down his back. “I’m sorry.”

“It was bound to happen,” shrugging, you gestured for him to take a walk with you. It was far from being the most scenic place to have a peaceful walk in, but it would do.

You two were silent for a moment. Rintaro seemed to have a thousand thoughts running through his head when you finally spoke.

“How are you?”

“Tired. And you?”

“I’ve had better days.”

Rintaro stole a cautious glance. “Are you mad at me?”

You chuckled, and the sound of it stupefied him. His eyes widened as if afraid, but truly, there was no need to be. You weren’t in the mood to argue with him. “Not really. I feel like I was mad at you a long time ago, and now I’m just… Numb to it all, I suppose,” you said, absentmindedly spinning the wedding ring you both wore. Such a simple jewelry, yet it symbolized so much more. When you spoke again, the rain had calmed down a little bit, but the cold had already seeped into both of your bones. “Marriage is difficult. You have to stay true to your vows, even when the times are challenging. In sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse. ‘Till death do us part,” you glanced up at him, taking in those handsome features you fell in love with – his hazel eyes, his soft lips you loved to kiss, and his face you often cradled in your palms. Even right now, you wanted to kiss him, if only to give comfort, but you had to know first –

“Do you intend on keeping your marriage vows, Your Highness?”

He averted his gaze. “I doubt our marriage is valid anymore. The country thinks I am a horrible husband to you.”

“It’s not like I’ve been the best wife myself,” you admitted, your chest aching as you remembered the Second Prince – his gentle smiles directed only at you, the castle ruins, his large palms holding you tenderly, and the crestfallen look on his face when you told him you had to look for your husband. Such a great man, but the timing couldn’t be worse. And Gods, you couldn’t help it. You cried. You mourned the love you could have had.

You grieved for the life you could have had, the person you could’ve become.

If it had been Kiyoomi, it would be so much easier. He would love you in the way you wanted. He would you close to his arms all night long because he wouldn’t want to let go. He would chase away those stupid chickens for you. He would hide you away from the rest of the world and given you a life of solitude and peace – it would’ve been simple, and it would’ve been perfect.

But Kiyoomi was already married, and so were you.

And you felt horrible because he was great, but then you’d become a horrible wife. You would be exactly like Rintaro if you had given into your desire and kissed him. Kiyoomi wasn’t yours. But was Rintaro? Your heart was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Why couldn’t it all just work out?

Why couldn’t it be him?

Wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you forced the thoughts of the curly-haired prince out of your head. “I wish I hated you, Rintaro. I wish… I wish I never met you. I wish you never danced with me at your brother’s ball. I wish you never courted me. I wish you never came into my life and changed everything. It would have been better to never have been loved, than to have loved and been betrayed.”

Rintaro stepped forward, his arm extending to wipe your tears for you but even he could tell you were refused. So he kept his distance, clutching the umbrella tighter as his voice broke. “I’m sorry. I really am. It just… I didn’t want for it happen. You were all I thought about. When you were gone and you didn’t call or texted once, I thought I was losing you. I wanted you back.”

You shook your head. “You cannot have everything you want. You know that.”

His face dropped.

“Are you going to make me choose, too?”

“No. I already know who you would choose,” and you did, yet your heart still ached for him, for your husband, the one thing you couldn’t have. Only you didn’t feel like laughing, not when Rintaro looked at you with just as much confliction. “Is it foolish of me that I still love you even after everything you’ve done?”

His lips curled the slightest bit. “A little, but I am the last man to judge you if you were foolish, which you aren’t.”

You laughed sardonically. “I love you, do you know that?”

“I know,” he mumbled.

Who knew two words alone could puncture one’s heart so much?

Looking away, you both remained silent until Rintaro dropped the question. “What will happen to us now? Divorce is unlikely, but I might be stripped off my titles. I don’t know. But I have a feeling I certainly won’t become King anymore.”

“Do you want to be?”

Rintaro thought about it. “I do. It’s all I’ve ever known to pursue.”

“Then stand tall, my Prince. A future King doesn’t bow down to anyone, not even his Queen, and most especially not when the world is against him. We can fix this. I can fix this. I can restore your glory, but I need you to place your full trust on me.”

The plan you formed in your head would be considered insane. Her Majesty would certainly be furious, but if this was the only way to leave Rintaro, you would do it. You would protect him. You would give him back his power, and once he’s had it all, you’ll remove yourself from his life. He cannot have everything that he wants – but if you could not have love, then you want power. Even for just a brief moment, you were determined.

You were going to ruin her.

The drive back to the Palace was silent. He’d agreed to whatever plan you had, regardless of what the outcome might be. He didn’t even know what you truly had in mind. He just trusted you wholeheartedly like you asked, and told you to do as you pleased. Right now, the Crown Prince was weak. His mind was far too disturbed to process anything correctly. You would take advantage of it, simply because his compliance would be the only thing to ensure your success.

He just needed to remain silent.

Claiming he was exhausted, Rintaro went ahead first. It’d be another night where you’d sleep separately, and you would both definitely be awake the whole time. Just as you rounded the corner, you saw a hunched figure resting against the wall. He looked like he’d been waiting for you for a while. Upon hearing your footsteps, Kiyoomi raised his head – his dark eyes vulnerable, almost if hoping you would be the same as you were yesterday.

You wanted to. Truly, you did.

But the person he’d been with in Itachiyama was someone else entirely. She was someone happier, someone who didn’t have a broken marriage to worry about. She was someone who could have loved him.

Now, you were the same Princess he’d always known – the one who could never choose him.

Kiyoomi nodded to himself. He must have realized everything by now. What happened in Itachiyama stayed in Itachiyama. Pushing his weight off the wall, he strode to you with a blank expression. His eyes had gone cold again.

“We will never speak again, will we?”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed out, “He needs me right now.”

“I know,” Kiyoomi had never sounded so defeated broke, and it broke your heart. It made you want to run into his arms, to tell him it could’ve been him if you met him first. But that would sound wrong, wouldn’t it? He had been first. He’d been the last dance; the destined lover. The fated one. But man’s willpower could be so strong it battled even destiny itself, and you were both nothing but a fragment of the could’ve been’s.

“Good luck, Princess, in all your endeavors,” and then, just when you thought he would kiss you as he leaned forward, you closed your eyes. Waited with bated breath.

But he never did.

Kiyoomi only kissed your cheek, and then his scent and his warmth disappeared sooner than you would like. When he walked away, you saw all the what if’s you had to let go of.

The dream life with Kiyoomi vanished into thin air.

Wiping the tears from your cheeks, you forced yourself to turn and never look back. Kiyoomi was surely doing the same. He’d come to peace with it eventually, the love he could’ve had, the marriage he should’ve had. Itachiyama was nothing but a fantasy anyway. He wasn’t a real farmer just as you weren’t someone he could call his. It was a story doomed from the beginning.

Numbness spread all throughout your body. You’d been too drained to cry further, too exhausted to regret what you’d just done. The voice in your mind, the one who craved Kiyoomi like man needed air, had been eerily silent, too. It was if she, too, knew there was no point chasing after something that didn’t want to be chased in the first place.

All you could do was close your eyes and push the image of Kiyoomi’s smile out of your head.

He wasn’t yours. He could never be yours.

After what seemed like hours, you finally arrived at your shared quarters. The same room you left your husband in, and quite possibly the same room he slept with his mistress while you were gone.

You sighed. Opening the door, you were met by the sight of Rintaro pouring himself a drink. He’d already changed clothes – ones free of Iris’ lipstick and perfume. He looked fresh, much more composed than when he was a mess hours ago, yet he seemed… distant. Usually, he’d already perk up at you entering the room. But his face was devoid of any emotion as he poured wine into a second glass, deftly picking it up before downing it in one go. Your gaze fixated on the bobbing of his throat. How Iris’ lips kissed the column of his neck, how she’d whispered praises into his skin, how Rintaro allowed it all.

He slammed his empty glass down on the table. Leaning forward, he rested his arms on the sides of it, his voice unnaturally low as he spoke. “You know, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“About what?”

“Why you weren’t mad after reading the article,” his knuckles turned white from when he tightened his grip. He took slow exhales as if to calm himself, his grip loosening before he snatched another glass.

Back straightened, Rintaro towered over you as he took slow, careful, deliberate steps – akin to a predator sneaking up on its prey. Your heart drummed in your chest, loud enough it could’ve echoed in the spacious chamber, but you stood your ground. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of seeing his effect on you. Then, he stood in front of you – close enough you saw the steady rise and fall of his chest, the tipping of his head to the side as he narrowed his gaze at you. Inquisitively, suspiciously, like peeling away the layers of your skin to reveal your dirtiest secrets.

“Strange, don’t you think? Any sane wife who found out their husband was cheating on them would’ve screamed and kicked already. You didn’t do any of that.”

“I told you already. I’m too tired for any of that.”

“It could be that,” he raised his glass to your face, a portentous smirk dancing on his lips. “Or you could also be directing your affections to someone else.”

“What are you trying to say?”

He rolled his eyes, but otherwise kept his gaze on you as he sipped his drink and taking his sweet sweet time. “I wouldn’t have slept with her if you didn’t leave. You know I despise Kiyoomi, yet you still went. You completely disregarded my feelings when I said I didn’t want you to go,” he grounded his teeth, jaw clenching from the effort of holding himself back. “Is it him, then? Are you choosing him over me?”

He sounded so serious in his accusations you almost believed it yourself. “Don’t be absurd, Rintaro.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I strike a chord?” he said in a sing-song manner, the smile dropping from his face when you kept your lips shut. “So the rumors were right. You went with him to get back at me.”

Your jaw dropped. Yes, you enjoyed the time with Kiyoomi. Yes, you wished you never left, and you were already regretting each minute you spent longer in this damned space with him. Yes, you thought about Kiyoomi in ways you shouldn’t have – and god forbid you nearly asked him to kiss you, but not once did you think about using his brother as a ploy.

You weren’t like him.

“That’s not true, and you know it.”

Rintaro fumed. He flung his empty glass across the room, the shattering sound muted by his yells. “Prove it to me, then!”

“Are you even hearing yourself? I’m not the one who cheated! Don’t you dare turn this around and make it seem like it was my fault.”

“But it was! If you didn’t go around fucking my brother behind my back, I would’ve stayed loyal to you! I would’ve waited until you returned! What, you thought I wouldn’t know what you were doing there with him? Doing fertility dances, sharing dinners with his mother like you’re his wife, lighting stupid fucking lanterns–” swinging your arm back, your palm connected with his cheek, a resounding slap rendering the Prince speechless. He stepped back, clutching his reddened cheeks as he stared at you in disbelief.

“That is enough. Utter one more word, and I will never speak to you again.”

“You aren’t even denying it,” he spat out, “Have you fallen for him?”

You were done. So done. You wouldn’t have any of this anymore. Sidestepping him, you walked past and away from your husband, heading for your bedroom where you planned on slamming the door in his face. You’d cry for hours there if you needed to – anything to have him leave you alone. But your husband was just as stubborn as he was determined, catching up to you with ease before catching your wrist. He spun you to face him, and you froze – he reeked of alcohol, his lips and cheeks painfully red, but his eyes.

You couldn’t tell if he wanted to kill you or keep you.

“Answer me!”

You fought against his grasp. He was stronger than you by all means; you struggled and kicked and pounded your fists on his chest, but Rintaro didn’t budge. He let you hit him however you pleased, demanding repeatedly to tell him he was wrong – how you wouldn’t choose his brother over him, how it’d be him – forever and always.

“I hate you!” you bellowed at his face, falling limp in his arms from all your fighting. “I wish I never married you – it should’ve been him! I should’ve married your brother!”

“That’s a lie!”

“Oh, don’t look so hurt now, Prince. You don’t even feel a sliver of what I do. Need I remind you that you constantly choose her over me, your wife? Why should I be loyal to you when you’re not even mine?”

“I am yours.”

“You’re hers, too,” you reminded him, your eyes glinting with mischief as you recalled Kiyoomi’s words. Just then, cruel laughter bubbled from your lips. Two could play this game, and you would be the winner. He wanted to hurt you? Fine. You could hurt him even more. “You know what’s laughable, Rin? The woman you’re fighting tooth and nail for doesn’t even want you.”

“Shut up!”

You laughed harder, practically shaking in his arms as you did. Taunting him, you nudged your nose with his, forcing him to look at you and feed on your wrath. “I’m right, aren’t I? She doesn’t like you. She’s merely using you for fame and pleasure because her husband isn’t attracted to her–” the breath was slammed out your throat. In mere seconds, Rintaro had shoved you against the wall, his lips crashing down on yours with such ferocity it burned you. Your eyes stung from your tears, the back of your skull beginning to throb. But Rintaro wasn’t done with you yet.

Pinning your wrists above your head, you gasped, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. He tasted like scotch and smelled faintly of her perfume. It made your stomach churn, and soon, you were groaning into his mouth, desperately trying to win in this battle of dominance. He was angry as you were frustrated, your lips molding against each other’s like swords clashing in a battle. He struck first, his kisses passionately bitter, but his taste addictingly sweet. You fought back against his hold, your breasts sliding down across his chest and you moaned – he groaned – tugging your bottom lip between his teeth until you couldn’t tell who the enemy was anymore. You shouldn’t kiss him, you shouldn’t enjoy it, but his lips were as familiar as a sunny day and you were a woman in need of light in your life.

He’s repulsive, your mind argued.

But he’s mine, your heart decided. He was, and always will be, yours. He could have Iris for as long as he wanted, but it was you who’d taken his name. It was your ring on his finger, your face next to him in the royal portraits. You weren’t the shameful mistress – you were the rightful wife. You could have him as you pleased, ruin him to your delight. Break him into thousands of pieces only to pick him up again because he was yours, yours, yours.

Threading your fingers to his hair, you dragged him closer to you. Breathed him in, pawed at his shirt in a demand for him to take it off. He was more than willing to oblige, the two of you making quick work of his buttons in between messy, breathy kisses. Shirt discarded, he grabbed your ass and your legs wrapped around his waist on instinct – the next sequence of events like a movie you’d seen before.

Your clothes on the carpeted floor.

Rintaro on top of you, your fingers intertwined beside your head. His lips on your neck, bruises on your skin and the imprint of his hands on your hips. Your mewls right on his ear. The quivering of your thighs, the stain on the sheets – the day turning into night, from dusk until dawn. He thrusts deep, enough to have you inhaling sharply through your nose. And there it was – the unmistakable scent of a vanilla perfume you’ve never owned. It’s everywhere in the room now that your eyes opened, the hazy cloud of lust ebbing away. Iris’ perfume on your vanity area, a discarded pair of white lacy thongs that wasn’t yours peeking from under the closet, and her scent – her stupidly sweet, innocent scent – blanketing the silk of your sheets.

Slowly, your fingers detached from Suna as you turned to the sides, inhaling the sheets once more because it couldn’t be, right? Maybe you had it wrong. Rintaro wouldn’t do that, he couldn’t be so cruel. You never even shared this bed with him ever since you got married. You’ve never had him hold you close as you fall asleep, never had your head resting on his chest while you both waited for the next day. He was a cruel man, yes, but he wouldn’t dare do this to you. Not while you were gone, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t.

Yet there it was, the scent of a floral shampoo you couldn’t recognize on your pillows, and the faint smatters of vanilla and cinnamon lingered behind.

And when the damage is done, and your heart is more confused now than ever – Rintaro momentarily slumps before you, held up only by his arms, he realizes too late the tears stained on your cheeks.

“You brought her here.”

It wasn’t a question, not even an accusation. You spoke nothing but the truth, and Rintaro’s crestfallen face said it all. He’d brought her here, made love with her on your bed. Somehow, finding out that he’d fucked her in the one place you found solace in the Palace hurt more than knowing he fucked her everywhere else.

It was as if he’d stained you. Spat right at your face. Desecrated the one place you wished to hold him in, and rubbed it in your face that he couldn’t make love to you in your bed. But he could with her, because it was always going to be her, wasn’t it?

No matter how hard you tried, it was never going to be you.

Silence dawned on the room. There’s nothing but the rapid beating of your hearts, and the soft sniffles you muffle behind your first. He sees two things on your face that night: one of beauty, and one of regret. He dared himself to be brave, to wipe your tears with the pad of his thumb. The motion was oddly comforting, and for a moment – just a quick moment – you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. Leaning into the warmth of his palm, more tears dampened his skin. You were torn between asking him to stay, to hold you until it hurt less, and asking him to leave and give you a moment for yourself.

But Rintaro had already decided.

With a final kiss to your forehead, your husband crawled out of the bed. He glanced at you one last time before slipping his ring off, setting it on your bedside table, before quietly – and resolutely – leaving you behind.

[smilelikeacheshirecat]

Duty is to her

Pairing: Bridget Hearts x Fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warning: kissing

Word Count: 2030

Summary: Reader and Bridget are attending a party and notice Bridget was getting tired so you decided to step in.

Being the princess and the next ruler of your kingdom, you are expected to go through all sorts of training, education, classes and more in preparation for your coronation and to inherit the throne from your parents. You have hours of classes, discussion of various topics from your basic education to politics, history of your kingdom and all the other neighboring kingdoms, etiquette classes, dance lessons, how to manage your kingdom and many more. 

You also undergo training not only with physical activities such as fencing, ballet, horseback riding, and many more. But your parents also added managing paper works and affairs happening in the kingdom for you to be familiarize with, along with hours and hours of discussion with other officials, and to also prepare for the future mountain of works that will probably pile in your desk as soon as your in charge.

Needless to say, you have been very busy with all your duties and since you're still young and wanting to have a social life, you also attend school so that adds up to the mass of work needed to be done. It’s hard to be the princess and heir to the throne. 

Being the princess, it is also one of your duties to attend various events such as balls, charities, parties, or any sort of royal gathering. There, it will test how good you are able to recognize and know the other royals, to mingle, chat, interact and meet more other people. 

But with everything happening in your daily life, there is one person that has been by your side each time. Princess Bridget of Hearts. She is the daughter of the rulers of Wonderland, their family is a close friend of your family. She is also attending Merlin’s Academy with you and the two of you have been inseparable ever since you bump into each other in the hallways of the academy.

“I can’t wait to visit” 

You heard from across the room, you turn to look for the owner of the familiar sweet voice, to see Bridget talking with the other guest. The pink-haired princess has the personality and the energy to draw in people to her direction. She’s the most kindest, sweetest, approachable and brightest person you’ve ever meet. Yet it still baffles you how she claims that you and Ella are her only friends in the academy. 

Right now, it was winter break and most of the students in Merlin’s Academy went home to spend the holiday with their families. You and Bridget were no exception and right now their parents had ask them to attend this party much to your dismay since you planned on relaxing during your winter break but when you heard that Bridget is also coming, reluctantly, you agreed but with a little enthusiasm inside especially knowing that the particular pink princess you quite adore and have been for a while now, will be coming. 

“Of course” You watch as Bridget giggle again after her reply to whatever they were saying.

You had been unfortunately separate with different people wanting to talk to you and not wanting to appear rude to them, you indulge in their conversation and try to at least look like you were interested but sometimes would still steal glances at a certain pink-haired princes just across the room. 

At least she’s having fun. You thought as you tried to avert your eyes from Bridget’a figure and refocus your attention on the conversation with your group. 

“Yes I’ve contacted with them and had their support on the matter” you replied. You may have master the art of communication and forming connection but that doesn’t mean you’d enjoyed it since you’d very much like to be with your princess rather than having this formal conversation.

At an early age, you’ve been attending party to party so you’re quite use to all the standing, talking and polite smile. Like the perfect princess but Bridget, on the other hand is still getting use to attending this sort of parties so you can’t really help but worry.

After a few minutes you glance back to where Bridget was again just to check on her. That’s when you notice Bridget was getting tired and is only fighting to stay and keep up with conversation. 

It is getting late and Bridget hadn’t had enough rest since yesterday with all the preparation for the party going on.

You took that as your cue to leave.

“Excuse me everyone but I may have to retreat for the night, enjoy the rest of the evening.” You said, curtsying before biding your farewell to them. 

The group said their goodbyes in understanding before continuing their conversation. You gracefully walk towards where Bridget’s group.

Bridget still has a smile on her face but you already notice how she was trying to stay awake. 

“Excuse me ladies but I might have to steal Bridget from you” you said smoothly as you swiftly take Bridget’s hand and pulled her away from her group. The girls giggle and let you both go as they continue on their own again. 

In just a few minutes, Bridget was already leaning on to you as you walk out of the ballroom. The moment the door close behind them, Bridget let out a sigh of relief. Her fatigue kicking in already as she cling on to you for support.

You chuckled and wrap your arms around her waist as you support her weight with your body. “Tired?” You ask the princess who’s eyes are already half close.

Bridget nodded, her eyes are now close as she soaks in the warmth of your body. The ballroom may be buzzing with guest but she still feels cold from the lack of your presence.

Truth be told, she was having fun meeting everyone but she still yearns to be with you since the only reason why she agreed to attend is because she was inform that you’d be there. And you were but she didn’t expect that she would only spend a few minutes with you before you were whist away by the other guests in the party.

The corridors were empty since most of the guest are at the ballroom and the staff are either attending to the party's needs or have already retreated to their quarters. 

Since Bridget was already tired to walking straight on her own, you had to half carry her as you guide her to her bedroom. 

Bridget notice the direction they were going and stopped.

"what's wrong?" You asked looking at the princess in your arms.

"can I stay in your room?" Bridget asked softly but you still heard her.

You smiled and agreed before changing course to the direction of your bedroom.

“We stayed longer than expected.” You said as you open the door to your room, finally. 

You lead Bridget's half asleep figure to your bed. Walking here was hard enough due to the heavy dresses you were wearing and the heels weren’t much help. You tried to gentle pry Bridget’s embrace from your body as you lay her down on your bed. You left out a breath of relief as you had successfully lay Bridget’s body on your bed. 

After you remove the torture device on your feet that people called shoes, you started removing Bridget’s gown and her own shoes and change them to a much more comfortable sleeping attire before proceeding to remove her complicated hairdo. Then after that you pulled out the make-up remover kit on your vanity table. Gently, you stared removing the layers of makeup on Bridget’s face carefully not to wake her up and disrupt her peaceful state. 

During the process, you couldn’t help but admire Bridget’s beauty as she closely examine her face, making sure no makeup was left.

For months you have been close with Bridget but never this close and intimate. You have always been there to care for her, to be here for her as she did to you in those months with each other. Unknowingly that your time together had brought feelings inside you. Feelings that you’re not quite sure what they are yet but slowly, you’re starting to realize them as time past by and you couldn’t help but fear for what it may cause and affect your relationship now.

The thought of losing Bridget, fuels the growing fear so in conclusion, you buried those feelings deep down to remain what you two have now. But sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder what would it be like. To be more than just friends. 

Just imagining it made you sigh, one last look, making sure no make up was left. You smile on your work before starting to change as well. 

With her last bit of consciousness, Bridget stir from her sleep, her hands started moving, searching for something. When she realize that she was alone, she lifted her head up to see you just putting on the last sleeping garment before you sat infront of your vanity mirror to remove your make-up. 

 Bridget couldn’t help the frown forming on her lips, you were still far from her. Slowly she got up from the comfort of your bed and wobble to your direction. 

You didn’t notice Bridget had got up from bed since you had your eyes close as you remove your eye shadow. A soft squeal left you when you felt someone’s arms wrap around your shoulders.

“Bridget?” You called out to her, she was still half asleep.

“Come to bed. Please” she mumbled to your ears. 

“But I’m not done removing my make up yet” you said but then what she did next was unexpected.

Bridget let you go from her embrace before placing herself on your lap,. with her legs on each side, your hand automatically rest on her waist to steady her figure. You were confuse to what was happening but you sat still as Bridget pull the wipes from the table and began to remove the rest of your make up she may be sleepy but each stroke was firm but gentle at the same time. Removing the remaining make up, she took one last look when there wasn’t any left she cupped your checks with your hands making you look into her eyes. 

Bridget was still half asleep so her body was still a little unstable as she slowly leans forward, your faces were only centimeters apart now.

“You’re really pretty’” she mumbled with a smile on her face.

You couldn’t help but smile at that. Everything seems to fade around them as you gaze into each other’s eyes. But yours keeps flickering from her eyes to her lips, plump and pink even without lipstick. So close yet still so far away. 

For a while, you didn’t know what you felt. At first, you thought these feelings were the same feelings you felt for Bridget, the love for a very close friend but this moment confirms your realization. You wanted her, you needed her. You wanted something more, more than just classmates, more than just friends. You wanted to be something more with her and only her.

It took everything in your power not lean in and kiss those lips, which was the only thing running in your head, her lips. But then . . .

“Are you gonna kiss me or not?” Bridget suddenly ask breaking the silence of the room.

Your eyes widen at what she said. You look back up to her eyes, wanting to make sure you heard it right. “May I?” 

Bridget smile as she leans in, closing the gap between your lips. Soft. Her lips were soft. Sweet, like the strawberry short cake she baked the other day for you. And slow. She wasn’t in a hurry, and neither were you. You were both savoring the kiss.

Your stomach flutter as the warm feeling flooded you. Her scent invaded your senses and all your focus were on her lips and the warm feeling it comes with it.

You pulled away for air, already missing them but Bridget lean her forehead on yours with a smile still on her lips. “Took you long enough” she said giggling as buries her face on your neck.

You may be the princess of your kingdom but your duty is always to her, to your princess.

[raincitygirl76]

Great post. My only caveats are that:

A) Even while attending public schools, outside of school hours, Wilhelm would have heard social ideas like the ones Hillerska students espouse in 1.01 all his life. From his own relatives, from family friends, etc, etc. Kristina and Ludvig sent him to Hillerska. His upbringing would have been very conservative and traditional.

B) Although Wilhelm previously attended public schools, they would’ve been “nice” public schools in “nice” neighborhoods. I don’t know if they do catchment areas in Sweden, but any school within reasonable distance of a royal palace will have plenty of rich kids attending. So he would have heard plenty of conservative talking points from his previous schoolmates. That said, rich parents who could afford to send their kids to private school but choose to send them to public school instead probably skew a bit more liberal than rich parents who send their kids to Hillerska. And public school teachers, even those teaching at a “nice” school in an upper middle class area, would probably be, on average, less deferential to arch-conservative ideas than Hillerska teachers.

So I suspect that while pre-Hillerska Wilhelm wasn’t QUITE as insulated in a privileged bubble as the average Hillerska student, he was still mostly encased in the bubble. Ironic that Kristina and Ludvig decide Wilhelm’s problem is his public school in Stockholm, and insist on sending him to Hillerska against his will. Kristina is quite open in 1.01 that the whole point of him going there is to make the “right” kind of friends.

And then Wille promptly falls in love with a Hillerska student who is working class, a non-boarder, a person of colour, a socialist, the child of an immigrant, and male to boot. Simon represents everything Kristina and Ludvig were trying to avoid by sending their son to an elite boarding school. And yet that’s where Wille met him.

The politics of class and privilege in Young Royals

I wrote this post a few days ago about why I read Young Royals as anti-monarchy, sparked by the results of this poll. Since then, I've been thinking, and I realized that some of the details of the show that form its political attitudes are quite subtle, and deserve to be pointed out. And I know how much we love YR deep-dive analysis posts, and so this post was born.

Note that this is coming from a USA perspective, with light research on Swedish context. I welcome questions, additions, corrections, and disagreements. And let me know if this was helpful to you at all! If so, there are more scenes I can write about (though none of them would be this long).

Season 1, Episode 1: Wille's first class

This is a revealing scene. It feels significant from the start, because it’s the first time Simon and Wille are in close quarters. And then the very first kind-of-interaction between the boys is loaded with tension about class and politics.

This appears to be some kind of ethics or social studies class. The whiteboard reads “[something], punishment, and crime,” and the teacher has been asking the students to rank the severity of various crimes. She casually invites discussion on tax evasion vs. welfare fraud, “two less sensitive issues.” Did she not anticipate how loaded that question would be in this context?

Walter is ready with an answer before the teacher has even finished her question. He defends tax evasion with the common capitalist talking point of “job creation.” Proponents of economic conservatism claim that businesses should be freed from regulations (e.g. laws on workers’ rights and fair business practices) and taxes, because the more free rein they have, the more jobs they will create. This is a myth. Capitalist businesses always prioritize growth and profit. If there’s ever an opportunity to make more money while employing fewer people and paying them less, they will take it. Left to their own devices, businesses develop new technologies and efficiencies, often at the cost of workers’ safety, and for many of them, their jobs. What really increases the number of jobs available? Tax rates and social benefits that boost the middle class, because that increases consumption, and therefore business and employment. Laws for workers’ health, safety, and well-being also increase available jobs. (If you can’t make one person do this job for this many hours, or this quickly, or alone, you have to hire more people.) Despite having no backing in reality, the idea of unencumbered businesses as job creators remains popular.

Walter sounds like he may be parroting his pro-capitalist parents. Stella could be parroting her own parents, or just the society at large when she adds that “welfare scammers give nothing back, they just take.” The specter of welfare fraud is a myth engrained even more in the public consciousness, and a racist one at that. The welfare fraud myth got big in the US in the 70’s, when US President Reagan used the false stereotype of the “welfare queen” to attack government-provided benefits (food stamps, unemployment income, etc.) and stoke anti-Black racism. By any measure, welfare fraud is actually very rare. But the myth is perpetuated, because it gives conservative politicians an excuse to police and criminalize people of color, who (in the US at least) require food stamps at disproportionate rates (though white people still receive food stamps more than any other racial group).

Think about what Stella’s statement says about her perspective on the humanity and worth of different groups of people. She’s hating on the idea of poor people receiving any more welfare (literally meaning health, happiness, well-being) than the amount the government has chosen to ration out. She says “welfare scammers,” but you can tell she’s also talking about welfare recipients in general. She’s suggesting that something that improves the life of a poor person or family doesn’t actually matter to society or to her—because that person or family is worthless, and not a significant part of society. Stella is a member of the upper class, and sees herself as entirely separate and fundamentally different from the sectors of working class and poor people.

Henry continues where Walter left off, defending tax evasion. He suggests that businesses are in the right to evade taxes, because the government is guilty of over-taxing them. (By the way, moving businesses abroad doesn’t just help evade taxes, it also often gives opportunities to pay workers less and exploit them more.) It is so ironic that Henry claims that taxes are resulting in his dad’s estate “struggling to make ends meet.” If you have an estate that you’re using to do business, you already have wayyy more than you need! You know who’s actually struggling to make end meet? The people receiving benefits.

I can understand why that’s the point when Simon laughs. Prompted by the teacher to share more, he points out that the very language used, tax evasion vs. welfare scam, is biased in favor of the rich. He points out the double standard whereby the poor are over-policed while the rich get away with cheating, harming, and breaking laws all the time (something that becomes a theme throughout the show, especially with August). To see who really “takes and gives nothing back,” check out this visual of the value of wage theft vs. burglary in the US. (And note that civil asset forfeiture, i.e. legal theft by police, also dwarfs burglary in the US.)

Simon mentions the deductions and subsidies provided by governments that value businesses over humans, and Henry gets rude and defensive. Henry doesn’t actually know how to defend his argument, which can’t stand up to Simon’s critique. And then Simon has his famous mic-drop moment: With a slight smirk and a side-eye towards Wille, he says, “Well, we all know who this country’s biggest welfare receivers are.” If I’m looking at it right, the Swedish government gives about SEK 143 million ($13.7 million USD) to the monarchy and all its trappings each year. This is less than many other European monarchies. Some might say that makes it ok. Why is the bar so low? Why do we excuse millions in public funds going to bankroll the extravagant lives of a family that already has millions in inherited wealth, when there are people who truly can’t make ends meet? Is the monarchy really “giving back” more than $13.7 million USD’s worth to the Swedish people? Is there really no better use of that money?

The most important point in Simon’s comment is the connection between the monarchy and the upper classes—especially the nobility. The positions of both the monarchy and the upper classes rest on no one questioning a system of inequality. All these rich people need us to accept that this is just the way things are: some people bask in riches while others starve; some people deserve millions in public funds, others are greedy for wanting more food stamps to feed their family.

Wille is a little stunned by Simon’s jab. We can tell, especially later at lunch, that Wille is intrigued by Simon’s bluntness, something Wille doesn’t experience in a lot of his interpersonal relationships. But he also appears to agree with Simon’s political point on some level. Remember that Wille has been attending public school so far in his life. I’m sure he’s familiar with the conservative talking points, but this class is probably the first time he’s heard them coming so strongly from his own classmates.

BONUS: Season 1, Episode 5: Presentation day

In episode 5, we get a scene of the same class, where the students appear to be doing group presentations on various topics of crime and punishment. If you’re busy pondering what happened to Alexander, you could easily miss the 10 seconds where Stella and Fredrika introduce their presentation. But these 10 seconds speak volumes. “Capital punishment,” says Fredrika, with a winning smile. Stella giggles as she says, “Yes, or no?” Fredrika confidently concludes: “We say yes.” Capital punishment, aka the death penalty, is when a government kills someone as punishment for a crime. It’s the ultimate case of “it’s not ok for ordinary people to do it, but it’s totally ok for the people and institutions in power to do it.” I won’t go into how the US has used capital punishment in racist and ableist ways, or how many cases of suspected or confirmed wrongful execution there have been. I think the main point of this short scene is to show the casual ruthlessness of these two teen girls. Their wealth and privilege has so warped their thinking that they can promote state-sanctioned killing with a giggle. The lives of regular people are not real or substantial to them, and deep down they know that no one they care about would ever be at risk of being sentenced to such a punishment, no matter what they were guilty of. (By the way, capital punishment was abolished in Sweden in 1973.)

Looking at the two ethics class scenes, we see that Young Royals portrays the upper-class students as living inside a bubble of privilege that allows them to dehumanize regular people. This causes both moral rot and intellectual laziness. It also causes a kind of ridiculous immaturity that’s both a little bit funny and a little bit sad.

[hallowpen]

This series continues to be a love letter to Thai tradition. It makes me sooo happy to get to share these cultural insights with you guys through watching Girl's Love media. We've come so far 😭😭😭

So... This episode didn't really highlight any traditional Thai dishes, but in keeping with last week's edition, I want to at least mention two that stood out:

ช่อม่วง (pronounced 'chor muang') are flower dumplings that were to be considered part of royal Thai cuisine. The dumplings are filled with a sweet and salty pork mixed with roasted peanuts. They are wrapped in a purple dough that gets its coloring from being dyed by butterfly pea flowers steeped in water with lime juice. (Any fellow UWMAers will recognize this dish, as the process of how to make them were included in that series)

สละลอยแก้ว (pronounced 'sala loy kaew') is another version of the dessert we discussed last week. It is made by having Salak fruit 'floating' in iced sugared syrup. Salak is a fruit native to Southeast Asia (specifically Indonesia). The Thai variety have more flesh with a uniquely sweet and slightly sour taste.

ยิงปืนกันกล้วย (pronounced 'ying peun gahn gluay') is a traditional children's game typically played amongst young boys. It is a game where children "shoot" at each other with an imaginary rifle that is made from banana stalks. They swipe one hand quickly along the banana stalk, and the following impact causes the upright parts of the stem ("the ammo") to loudly "snap"... a sound similar to that of a gunshot. The banana rifles are called ปืนของกล้วย (pronounced 'peun gahn gluay') hence the name of the game... and the "horses", which are also made from banana stalks, are called ม้าของกล้วย (pronounced 'ma gahn gluay').

ลอยกระทง - Thailand's Loy Krathong Festival is probably something viewers are already familiar with if they've watched other Thai dramas. It is a Thai tradition that takes place on the night of the full moon during the 12th lunar month. "Krathongs", which can be translated as 'ritual lantern vessels', are made from natural materials including banana leaves and flowers. They are often formed in the shape of a lotus to symbolize rebirth, strength, and resilience. For Anil and Pin it is a gesture to make merit, while simultaneously wishing for each other’s happiness and good fortune. It is representative of their hope for only good blessings to come into their lives while they are apart.

In more modern tradition, there are also certain romantic undertones revolving around the Loy Krathong Festival. It is said that any couple who float a Krathong together, will be bound together for life.

Aside from these cultural aspects, there are a few other instances I want to note.

I loved seeing the juxtaposition of Anil knowing and actively wanting to pursue a romantic relationship with Pin... and Pin only just coming to the realization that, maybe, her fond affection for Anil actually runs a lot deeper. I also want to point out, that Prik's participation in facilitating their romantic relationship is incredibly risky. As a low-ranking servant of the palace, she stands to receive the harshest punishment for 'breaking convention'. Which brings me to this scene:

There are so many social class dynamics happening in just this one scene alone. Pin cannot afford to be rude to a higher ranking official by saying, upfront, she does not wish for him to pursue her. Prik is being used as a shield to protect Pin from Kuea's advances. And Kuea, as a friend of Prince Anon AND who holds title himself, is blissfully unaware that his presence is completely unwelcome... because who, in their right mind, could ever want to turn away a person of his fortune and stature? Aaahhh, it's just such a brilliant scene!!!

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

Little Dove: Part 4

No Lady Dundus this time i'm affraid, but we do get a glimpse of the Emperors wrath.

Part Three

The time you spent high up int the Roman Emperor’s royal box would be one that you would commit to memory, you told yourself this as you watched the games with Lady Dundus upon your lap, not ever expecting any further interest from the young Emperor. Yet the royal carriage was now where you sat alongside your father, taking you back to the palace again for another banquet held by the emperors, one more catered to the finer members of the Roman senate. You had never travelled in a carriage of such splendour, the walls of it laced with the finest gold linen and adorned with the most intricate embroidery that you believed was better suited to an exotic villa rathe than a coach.

The journey to the royal palace was mostly uneventful, you peered through the bars of the window, drinking in the sights as you rode past upon high, the voice of your father blurred out in your mind. Your father had been lecturing you on how to behave tonight, he had ignored your hard-headedness for too long in the council meetings you attended but he would not have you embarrass him in this banquet; one that would be full of men of stature and influence. You nodded absentmindedly at his warnings; his voice was fuzzy in the back of your mind as you thought of the emperor and the way he played with your hair and kissed your skin only some moments ago.  Caracalla was sure to have many brides presented to him on a regular basis, women of higher standing than you, yet it did not stop you from daydreaming about him throughout the ride, imagining what it would be like to be his.

Upon arrival at the palace, you were greeted by an array of guards, guiding you into the main hall once again, utterly impressed at how it could possible look even more impressive than when you were here only a day ago, marvelling at how the servants must have been working tirelessly to achieve the impressive décor. This banquet was more intimate than the last, reserved for the higher class and influential people of Rome, though your father was a senator he would have never dreamed of reaching this level of class in society, hence his firm instruction for you to behave and not antagonise anyone for the night.

In your brief scan of the room you could not see Caracalla, it made your heart sink for a moment before thinking that obviously he would be busy, each one of these senators and generals would want an audience with the Emperors, custom dictated that they would entertain each one in conversation. Lonely was the banquet for you, your father was now off networking and schmoozing with those better than him, the Emperors interest in you had now made you a cow to milk for further influence, and one that he would milk dry until the emperor became bored of you, like he had done with so many of his concubines he attained.

Stood alone next to the wine bar you had eventually become a spectacle, how could you not attract the eyes of the lecherous men here, not when you were dressed so alluringly in the rose-pink gown you specifically chose to impress Caracalla. The gazes upon you now did not go unnoticed, you took your wine and tried to turn away or hide your body from them, it was bad enough in the normal councils, but these senators knew that they could act without consequence for the most part. If one of them wanted you there was nobody to save you, your father could not act without being a social pariah and you being shunned into the countryside; you would have to try your best to deter them any way you could, your fathers’ words echoing in your mind to not make a scene and behave as a lady.

Eventually you had caught a few glimpses of Caracalla at the end of the room, looking uninterested listening to his brother speak to a high ranking general, the eyeroll and look on his face made you chuckle behind the rim of your wine glass, watching him with interest. A hand was felt upon your lower back, making you flinch, your body stiffen as the owner of the hand came into view. You had recognised him straight away, Marcus. Son of Valerius, one of the most important senators of Rome, a fact that Marcus wore proudly, strutting like a peacock knowing that his fathers influence would grant him whatever he desired.

“And what is a beautiful flower like you doing by the wine bar by yourself? Do you have no chaperone?” His voice was seedy as his eyes raked over your body, you were beneath him socially but that didn’t mean he couldn’t fuck you or make you a mistress, you could just never be his wife. It was hard for you to surpass a sigh or roll your eyes at him, yet you did it for your father, not wanting to make an enemy of Marcus’ family, it would be devastating for your own.

“I am enjoying the peace Marcus” You bowed politely and smiled, taking all your effort to be polite to this wretch of a man. “My father is away talking business to the other senators, work I obviously have no Idea about” The smile on your face never faltered, you of course knew the business of politics, you knew even more than your brothers, but it was something you would never be allowed to join in with. A loud laugh escaped Marcus’s lips as you spoke, the idea of your father being on the same level as his own amused him greatly. “Oh, my flower” His tone was laced with venom as his hands grabbed your face, squeezing the flesh of your cheeks until your lips were pursed and parted, his fingertips digging in and causing you pain.

“Your peasant family is nowhere near mine, your presence here is frankly an insult unless you are here just to be a fuck toy for the rest of us. Do you understand that.” Hate spewed from his mouth, Marcus was viscerally offended by the fact your father was here with his own father, taking the anger out on you, confident that he would face no repercussions. Afterall, who would care about one middle class unmarried girl, relishing in the fact he could treat you how he pleased. You yanked your face from his grasp causing him to be even angrier. Attempting to walk away Marcus grabbed your arm tightly, yanking you back towards him and spitting at you. “Don’t you fucking walk away from me you whore!”

Caracalla had unfortunately been unable to greet you and your father personally to the palace due to his prior obligations, he instead watched you throughout the night and promised himself that he would give you a full private tour as an apology. As he watched you it made him smile, your eye rolls and pretend smiles made him chuckle and got him through the monologues of the boring generals, counting down the minutes until he was free to seek you out for himself. Caracalla had barely kept his anger in check as he watched you, seeing the leering eyes of the old senators upon you, you belonged to him, you were not for them to lust over.

When Marcus gripped your cheeks it tipped Caracalla over the edge, he did not even excuse himself from his conversation. Storming forward through the crowd he saw the entire interaction, watching you struggle away from him as he grabbed your arm, the only word he heard Marcus utter was “whore”, making Caracalla’s blood burn even hotter.

Caracalla placed his hand on Marcus’s arm and ripped it away from your own, his eyes now black with fury as he stared at Marcus. The silence was loud between them, Caracalla just stared at Marcus, hinting for a response, waiting to see what excuse he had to manhandle and bruise you this way. An involuntary smile spread across your lips as you watched Marcus bow weakly before Caracalla who was now stood at your side, his free arm around your waist loosely, ensuring you were safe next to him. “So, tell me Marcus, son of Valerious. Why are you roughing my honoured guest? Touching my Little Dove?” Caracalla’s voice was angry, you had heard rumours of the twin emperor’s wrath and now you were seeing it in person, almost in awe of it.

Marcus had no answer at first, tears spilling from his eyes as his arm was still held tightly in the emperors own. “Well, speak up young Marcus! You can lose a hand if you like!” The voice that came from Caracalla’s lips was frantic and angry, he was not used to people defying his orders as his grip tightened on Marcus’s arm. The firm grip caused Marcus to whimper and cry, begging for forgiveness, pleading that he did not know that you belonged to Caracalla, that he would have never touched you otherwise. Caracalla threw his arm away and let Marcus fall to the hard marble floor, letting him disgrace himself rather than others for once. You watched the exchange between the two of them, shocked that the emperor had even come to protect you of all people, you were the lowest ranking person here.

As your eyes were on Marcus on the floor, incredulous at the sight of him so humiliated; you felt Caracalla’s hand, a now delicate touch upon your chin, turning your gaze to meet his own. His eyes were wild as he scanned your body, you didn’t even have time to react before you felt him grab your waist and pull your body flush to his own. You took one look into his crazed blue eyes before you felt his lips crash against your own, his tongue pressing against your lips for entrance which you gladly accepted. A few moments pass as you kissed, the audience of the party erased in your mind in this moment, until Carcalla parted from you, his hand never leaving your hip, keeping your body flush against his own as he spoke, his voice booming throughout the room with authority.

“Let this be a lesson to learn from my fellow Romans, Y/N is mine and I will not have such mercy going forth.” The room was quiet but full of anxious nods from the senators in attendance, they understood very clearly what would happen if they so much as looked at you again. The speech made you blush somewhat, shocked at how protective he truly was of you, it made you bury your face in his neck and smile, for once feeling valued and loved by someone.

Caracalla felt your smile upon his neck, rubbing his nose affectionately against your skin whilst he stroked your hair, you felt the reverberation of a chuckle in his chest before he whispered into your ear with adoration. “My little dove”

[mytheoristavenue]

MHA Commoner!Eijiro Kirishima x Princess!Reader - So This is Love? - I

Summary: You, the princess, surprise a poor village boy with an invitation to the royal ball.

Warnings: Reverse harem, fluff, angst, quirkless!au, royal!au, love at first sight, social class difference, princess x commoner trope

The carriage came to a sudden halt, making your body rock forward in your seat. Patiently, you awaited the footman to open the door and help you out. When you were standing, you couldn't hide the eager grin on your powdered face.

"Is this the correct place, m'lady?" the footman asked, glancing around with a haughty expression. "Looks a tad...dingy."

"Nonsense," you laugh him off, stepping forward, expensive heels digging into the mud. "I'm sure this is the correct address."

Noticing the way your heels sink, he promptly offers his arm, helping you to the door of the humble cobbler's shop. Stepping into the threshold, you smile fondly, finding a short, plump woman sitting at a desk in the corner. "Afternoon!" She calls, focused on her task. "What can we do ye for?" When she finally turns to face you, her smile drops and her already fair skintone becomes all the more pale.

"Y-Your Majesty!" She bows nervously. "T-To what do we owe the pleasure?"

You smile warmly, stepping closer, bowing to her as well. "I was hoping to have a word with a man I'm told works here," you answer, presenting a letter with a red wax seal. "I've come to deliver him an invitation. Eijiro Kirishima, is he here, ma'am?"

"My son?" The woman asks, tilting her head before nodding and turning to enter another room of the shop, dipping under half curtain that served as a divider. Moment's later, a young man with bright red hair and matching eyes peers out, scanning the room curiously.

His back straightens instantly when his eyes fall on you, standing in the front room of his family's shop, clad in an elegant day gown, eyes peeking over an equally ornate handfan. "Y-Your Highness!" He gasp, eyes blown wide as he stands up straight, akwardly hitting his head on the doorframe.

With a hiss a rub to the crown of his head, he steps out, kneeling in front of you. "W-What are you doing down in the village?" He asks, clearly flustered.

You simply giggle behind your fan, extending a hand down to him to kiss. His Adam's Apple bobs when his eyes fall on your perfectly manicured nails and blushed knuckles. Hestitantly, his calloused hands cradle yours, which has never known labor. With a sharp exhale, he brings your hand up to his lips, eyes flickering to yours as he plants a ghostly kiss on your knuckles. His gentle nature puts a glow in your cheeks as you giggle at his bashfulness.

"I can to visit you, good sir," you finally reveal, a sweet mystique in your tone.

"M-Me?" he repeats in disbeleif. "F-For what reason?"

You offer him the envelope, fingers brushing against his as he takes it from you. "I would like to cordially invite you to the royal ball this evening," you explain, collapsing your fan and resting it against your chest, batting your lashes at him. "As my personal guest."

"I-I'm speechless, You Highness..." He pauses, deicately opening the letter and reading over the cursive words within. "W-Why me?"

"Say you'll attend," you insists with a warm smile.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," he mutters timidly, folding the letter very carefully back into the envelope. "I have nothing but the clothes on my back, I haven't the proper dress to attend a royal gathering."

"I worried as much." You admitted sadly before smiling again. "Which is why I took the liberty of having the royal seamstress tailor a custom suit for the occassion."

"J-Just for me...?" Kirishima gasp, eyes glossy at your gesture. You nod, confirming his assumptions.

"Please accompany me, it would mean the world to me..." you beg one last time, leaning in slightly.

"I-I'd be honored, Your Majesty..." He finally relents, still in disbelief before a childish grin cracks across his face. "Yes, of course I'll go!"

"Oh, that's fantastic news!" you exclaim with delight, reaching out and capturing his hands, holding them to his hands. "I'm overjoyed." You beam, letting him go, preparing to take your leave. "A carriage will send for you an hour before sunset, no need to make ready ahead of time. You'll have a warm bath and a private room awaiting you at the castle."

Kirishima once again finds himself silenced by your generousity, only uttering a small: "T-Thanky you, Princess..." as he watches you leave the shop, waving with fan in hand.

[raincitygirl76]

Holy shit! Read this!!!!

Hey! I love your YR analysis posts, thank you so much for sharing your ideas with us! :) I'd love to hear your opinion on what you think happens in August's mind that allows him to look beyond Sara's class background when date her, given his obsession with defining himself by his status social standing. Thank you!

Hi! Thanks for reading my analysis; I’m glad you like it! I’ve been dreaming of answering an ask like yours for a long time, so I’m glad you popped up in my inbox. As it happens, I have a shorter answer and then a much longer answer prepared.

So, the first part of my thesis here is that August’s attraction isn’t rational. Feelings kinda happen however they’re going to happen, and people try to rationalize those feelings and make them make sense and fit into the frames they have for relationships. You are right to notice that August has to get past some mental blocks to get to the place where he sees Sara as a dating prospect at all. But once he gets there, he rationalizes her presence in his life using frames he understands.

Now, August doesn’t necessarily see status as something he has to earn. He sees it as something he already has and is owed more of, and as something with ideals he strives to live up to. Nonetheless, as much as August clings to his status to give himself a sense of stability in the wake of family trauma, his status is constantly in jeopardy throughout both seasons. This is what makes his behavior so erratic, and why he lashes out at others.

My (potentially controversial?) sargust theory is that Sara and August are attracted to one another from the earliest episodes of season 1, even if they don’t understand that as true at first. August’s understanding of his attraction to Sara changes over time, the same way his sense of security in his status changes. How he responds to Sara is tied together with how he responds to his perceived power in any given moment.

We often think of the ruling class as being tied to old, outdated traditions, and to some extent, that is true. But from my experience of working in proximity to people of considerable privilege, one of the ways they express that privilege is in how and when they move goalposts to fulfill their desires. Those who are privileged claim the power to write the rules, but also the power to decide what the few rare exceptions to those rules are. By the time August recognizes that he’s fallen in love with Sara and is willing to commit to her, he’s also decided to rationalize her as one of those exceptions.

It’s a little easier to see the evolution of his thoughts when you break his interactions with Sara down by half-season. Luckily, I had a meta started focused on what I see as the timeline of their relationship, so I was able to take what I’d already written and modify it to answer this ask. I’m putting this behind a cut, because it’s SUPER long. But hopefully it shows the shifts in his thinking and the ways he eventually ties Sara to his philosophy of exceptionalism. Feel free to read on if you’re curious…

(Content warning for most August topics, especially in this case toxic relationship dynamics and class-based sexual harassment.)

Intro: Framing Attraction

Before we start, we have to recognize some things about the nature of attraction. First, it’s important to realize that not everyone feels attraction in the same way or at the same pace. Wilhelm and Simon fall for one another pretty quickly, to the point where Simon makes an unambiguous move on Wilhelm at the end of 1.2. For all that Simon and Wilhelm still have a lot to understand about their feelings, Sara and August are both less in touch with their feelings and what they would want out of a relationship. In Sara’s case, we see her asking a lot of questions to the other girls that shows understanding her own feelings isn’t always easy for her. (I imagine one of the ways her AuDHD manifests is alexithymia, which, haha I relate tho.) August, meanwhile, spends so much time in cycles of self-denial and self-punishment that he’s gotten used to ignoring his own needs, whether that’s emotional needs or even needs around things like food and not over-exercising his body. As a result, what occurs between Sara and August is paced and dealt with in dialogue a little bit differently than the Wilmon stuff, but it’s just as dramatic.

Second, and less comfortably, we have to acknowledge that attraction is not always accompanied by purity of intentions or emotions, and that a person’s understanding of their own attractions can be influenced by outside social structures. As a result of these structures and systems, attraction can also be expressed in ways that are laced with disdain. (Patriarchy, for instance, gives heterosexual men an abundance of sexist language and tropes to draw on when describing or addressing women, even women they’re attracted to.) Hence August calling Sara a “freak” and berating her early on in the study hall scene. This is not to agree with the idea that A Little Boy Pulls On A Little Girl’s Pigtails Because He Secretly Likes Her, because that is a dangerous and harmful idea and I don’t subscribe to it. Rather, I want to examine how societally-influenced biases shape our ability to process and act on our feelings in a healthy way.

Sara and August sit at an intersection of class, gender, and neurotype that influences how they react to one another and initially prevents them from seeing one another as potential partners. Consider that an overwhelming amount of Western history and culture includes men who harass women into relationships, spouses complaining about one another, working class women getting taken advantage of by upper class men, and just general… *waves at all of that.* As much as we want to believe we’re now in the era of the emotionally honest softboy, these sexist, classist, and ableist influences are still very much with us, and we still see the kind of nonsense that’s out there nowadays radicalizing young men into crap behaviors toward women. We don’t have to be resigned to this in our own society, but we do have to acknowledge it and how it influences August. I mean, August can’t even express his attraction to Felice without being gross and offensive about it, and she’s of his class and therefore someone his biases nudge him to see as “marriage material” at first. So how is he supposed to recognize what he’s feeling about Sara and reframe it in a healthy way?

For what it’s worth, we can see how Wilhelm’s societal programming impacts his relationship with Simon, too. It’s not just the sexual orientation stuff, but the class stuff. We can see the little moments where Wilhelm starts to drift into “we can just hook up and have it be a secret forever.” We see how he tries to make things happen with Felice (and that’s additionally nuanced, because he and Felice are also performing Gender as Hillerska defines it.) The part where Wilhelm denies being with Simon in the video on live TV is really the apex of that kind of class-based thinking, that would let him just kind of have Simon be a secret guy on the side. 

Wilhelm however, unlike August, is much more willing to actively question his biases from the beginning of the series. He protests against being at Hillerska in the first place because he doesn’t want to be surrounded by people who parrot the ideas he was raised with and validate him on everything. Wilhelm wants his views challenged, even when he is periodically tempted to slide back into the habits of the upper classes. August wants his views reinforced, because he clings to his class status and social hierarchy as something that makes him feel grounded, and that’s always slipping away from him in a way it isn’t for Wilhelm. August eventually does push past his biases and see his attraction to Sara for what it is, but things go to hell again when he tries to assimilate her into his class-bound cultural norms.

1.1-1.3: August and Sara discover each other’s existence

In the first three episodes, August isn’t trying to assert his status by pursuing Sara. Instead, he’s pursuing Felice, who he insists that he wants to marry. (Marriage is, after all, a way to keep the noble classes going.) Still, there’s little hints about his future with Sara that we should be watching for, it’s just that neither Sara nor August quite knows the vibes they are putting out just yet.

I want to start by pointing out a moment of foreshadowing during the party scene in 1.1. August is giving Wilhelm his “we could murder someone and get away with it” speech which ends in the question of “who wants to be ordinary?” The Eriksson siblings enter the party right then, and the camera cuts over to Simon and Sara together. We’re following Wilhelm’s gaze at this point, and the camera is showing us his attraction to Simon, what with the way the way Simon is surrounded by colored light, all glow sticks and casual clothes and charisma. (I love this moment because it’s an immediate visual rebuke to August’s philosophy of exceptionalism and special-ordinary dichotomy; the special can be found within the ordinary, and there is so much beauty there.) We’re in Wilhelm’s head and being pulled along into his attraction to Simon. At the same time, August is shadowing Wilhelm the same way that Sara shadows Simon. From the start, we are being primed to see these two relationships as parallel. The camera isn’t quite ready to hint at full-fledged attraction yet, but it’s telling you to get ready for that attraction to develop and track it throughout the season.

In 1.2 and 1.3 we have moments of uncomfortable subtext. Consider the moment in 1.2 where August slides up to Sara and casually asks if maybe, could he please try some of her ADHD medication?

(Crap, I saved this but I forgot who made it. If someone tells me, I’ll credit them in an edit.)

I wouldn’t call their vibe consciously flirty or anything; that’s not quite what’s happening here. Sara’s initially buried in her book the way I am when a guy tries to talk to me on the metro. (She can be feeling attraction but still find the attention unwanted, which is important to mention. These things are complicated.) Still… there is a Vibe on August’s part. I say there is a Vibe because of how Simon reacts when he sees the conversation happening. Immediately Simon rolls in and plays the protective brother and is very never talk to my sister again. Which is about the 50 mg of Vyvanse, yes. But I find it hard to believe that this is not also about August potentially hitting on Sara, and Simon being worried about that.

As for 1.3, one place where there might be subtext about Sara’s feelings is the whole to-do over lunch tables. August is gatekeeping the Erikssons’ access to lunch as a way of flexing his power, and each Eriksson reacts in a way that’s quite telling. Simon is incensed, and uses it as the springboard for a (very justified) rant. Linda isn’t bothered; she is so cheerily sure it’s all just a misunderstanding and of course they’re going to be served in a minute. Sara… is quiet and withdrawn in a way that suggests she might be embarrassed by both her brother and her mother. Simon is unwilling to accept the rules while Linda doesn’t understand them. Sara’s worked so hard to learn the social rules and fit in, and here are her family members flagrantly ignoring the rules! In front of people! In front of… a person she might be developing a crush on, but knows she “shouldn’t” be? It’s not quite there until you think about it in retrospect, but that’s why Young Royals has so much rewatch value.

To be fair, both of these scenes are operating very much in the realm of subtext rather than text (and neither of them portrays a healthy sargust power dynamic.) It’s comparatively rare to encounter a heterosexual pairing who can’t quite find the words or social structures to articulate what they are, while the same-sex pairing they’re paralleled to knows very much that they care for one another. Wilhelm may struggle to label himself, but he understands that he desires Simon. Meanwhile, August is quick to claim a label and perform heterosexuality as a political stance, but doesn’t understand how nuanced and unexpected his desires can be.

I will also remind you that August and Rousseau are the same character, and that instead of giving us an overt, literal, absolutely excruciating Sara-August-Felice love triangle, Lisa dives into the horse subtext instead. A lot of what is under-the-surface in the early part of season 1 is expressed through the horse stuff!

1.4-1.6: Realization and Recognition

The second half of season 1 marks more of a transitional period in the sargust relationship. At this point, the subtext from before is rapidly beginning to surface in the text, and Sara and August are learning more about one another and trying to make sense of what they’re feeling about each other. There’s always been a vibe hanging between them, but now is really where they start to get pulled into one another’s orbit. At first, this looks like it’s going to conform to a toxic patriarchal paradigm, but that paradigm gets twisted a bit at the end of season 1.

Naturally the first scene that marks this shift is the one in 1.4 where August looking for Felice in the stables and encounters Sara instead. August’s immediate response to finding Sara alone is to try and sexually harass information out of her, which… is definitely uncomfortable again. We’ve got to acknowledge that in order to unpack this scene.

I’ve seen a lot of people argue that the stables scene is where Sara’s attraction begins, and I’m not sure if I agree with that. Sara’s inexperienced when it comes to relationships, but I don’t think she’s so pure and naive that August’s cocky performance is what sweeps her off her feet and makes her fall for him. We also know she isn’t taking what he says at face value, because one of the questions she asks him is what he really wants. Instead, it makes infinitely more sense to me that Sara’s already been attracted to August for a few weeks and is still kind of wondering what those butterfly feelings are in her stomach, and now here’s this extra bizarre social interaction (with added kissing that Sara doesn’t consent to but may have wanted under different circumstances) for her to hang those feelings on.

On August’s end… man. Why must this boy be such a can of emotional worms? I do wonder how much something is shifting in his head as he begins to hit on Sara. Most of those shifts are happening for him subconsciously. Maybe what he’s settling on in 1.4 is that, it’s fun to flirt with Sara to assert his social dominance that way, but at that point in the narrative he doesn’t think she counts as a long-term relationship/marriage material kinda girl the way Felice does.

Here I think it’s important to remember for that for most of Western history, wealthy upper class men weren’t shamed for pursuing women of lower classes on the side of their married relationships. (Sometimes these side relationships were more or less consensual relationships with mistresses, but other times men were just taking advantage of women who worked for them, and consent was impossible.) I’m not saying that August is thinking consciously about Sara being “available” for temporary amusement because she’s working class, but I am saying that’s the historical tradition of toxic masculinity that he’s been raised in. He does not expect to be caught and dumped for kissing Sara, because unconsciously he’s absorbed the upper class patriarchal programming that doesn’t even identify this behavior as cheating. It’s just a “fun” way to get the information he wants. (Ugh.)

Tl;dr it’s important to view August hitting on Sara in the stables not as August leaning awayfrom his upper class status, but rather as him trying to assert it. Yes, he does try to get Felice into a committed relationship with him to assert his status and masculinity, but now that he’s in a committed relationship with her he doesn’t feel any more secure in his status. So now he’s pulled Sara into his whole social class deal as well. (Ugh. UGH.)

That isn’t, thankfully, where August stays. 1.6 marks another key shift in his mindset toward Sara, because it’s where August sees a genuine connection between them for the first time. When Sara goes to confront August about why he leaked the video of Simon and Wilhelm, he corners her and offers to give her whatever she wants. Sara confesses her secret desire—to be a boarder at Hillerska and become one of its elite students. August’s reaction is fascinating, because there’s almost a quality of relief to it. Part of that, of course, is because he can easily buy her off. But I think it’s also because he’s finally not alone. It’s worth remembering that August has spent most of season 1 worrying about paying his tuition and the possibility that he might get kicked out of school. As Erik tells us before he dies, August made Hillerska his entire personality as a way of dealing with the grief over his father’s suicide. Sara, who is using Hillerska to escape her own family trauma, feels similarly about it as a space where she can feel more agency, and now she’s worried that her mother will pull her out of school.

(On Sara’s part, August’s behavior has become increasingly erratic over the course of the last few episodes, and I think she’s drawn to the idea that he might need help. I covered a little of this when I talked about Sara being the special horse girl who wants to tame the troubled horse, but we also see this come out in her friendship with Felice. She wants to help Felice when they first meet! Not to mention, one of the big things Sara gets in trouble for is revealing people’s secrets. If you think about it, August has revealed the biggest secret of the series by leaking the video about Simon and Wilhelm. As pissed as Sara is on Simon’s behalf—and people forget how pissed she is, in 1.6—she also understands what it’s like to have let a secret out and regretted it. Sara’s doing rationalizing of her own.)

I don’t know how much of that runs through August’s head in an obvious or logical way, but in his gut, he’s feeling this jolt of recognition. Sara feels it too. Sara sees him, and he sees her. The magnetic pull has finally brought them together, and when she kisses him, he kisses back. We’d be rooting for these kids as they found a genuine connection, if they weren’t also covering up a horrendous and harmful crime. Sigh! And know we know we’re in for some drama in season 2…

2.1-2.3: Liminal Companionship

Season 2 begins with both Sara and August in an in-between state, where neither of them quite fits into the world they’ve been placed in. Sara’s gotten her coveted boarder’s scholarship to Hillerska, but is rapidly becoming disillusioned with the amount of wealth her dorm mates take for granted. August, meanwhile, hasn’t had to leave school after all, but is convinced he could lose his status and freedom at any minute if anyone finds out he leaked the video. They don’t really discuss this directly, but it’s clear they feel more comfortable around one another because each of them has seen a side of the other the rest of the world isn’t aware of. Moreover, given the amount of discomfort each of them is feeling at the beginning of the season, it’s understandable that Sara and August would seek out one another’s company more deliberately.

It’s in this in-between space, where August feels like he’s lost so much of his Hillerska identity, that he finally starts to recognize that Sara is someone who can hold emotional space for him. At the same time, he goes back and forth between wanting to be vulnerable with her and keeping her at a distance. He breaks down and panics in front of her, causing her to teach him deep breathing, but then runs away after. He seems to like Sara, but he’s cautious about getting too close.

Sara and August’s physical relationship is also in a liminal state at this point in season 2, somewhere between an unexpected platonic friendship and a blossoming romance. Not that anyone should have to define a relationship if they don’t want to, but it’s almost humorous to me how you have this period between 1.6 and 2.3 where Sara and August keep touching and kissing and even grinding on one another and they just… keep acting like it’s happening for the first time. Like. Do we maybe want to communicate about that? No? Yes? Omg you kids are such teenagers, stop.

Sara takes the physical lead most of the time, which is a change from the aggressive predatory gender roles we see August performing in 1.4. I don’t think August is more passive because he isn’t interested (we see the way he lifts Sara up onto his desk in 1.6, and the way he laughs to himself after Sara leaves his room in 2.2.) I personally think this is more about August’s tendency to punish himself. His establishing shots in 2.1 are all about self-punishment and self-denial—the grueling exercise, the infamous bites of kale. We also see him refusing to fight for himself when Wilhelm starts maneuvering him out of his Hillerska positions. August is starting to give up in a big way, and at first he holds Sara at arms’ length because he isn’t letting himself indulge in anything that could bring him actual joy.

For that reason, we don’t really see a reciprocal ebb and flow develop between Sara and August until 2.3, when they finally more consciously choose to do relationshippy things and decide to have sex for the first time. One thing that really stands out to me in this scene is that August is so sure he’s doomed. He is genuinely convinced at this point that the palace is going to send him to jail and brand him a criminal for life. And now that he’s lower than he’s ever been at any point in the series, he’s weirdly somehow gained the ability to show compassion for himself. This is also the episode where he throws his pills aside and pats Rousseau (his narrative shadow) on the nose. If August is doomed anyway, and he’s about to lose everything, well, why not give in to his developing feelings for the girl who likes him back even if she knows he made a terrible decision? Maybe he thinks it’s his one chance to be with her.

I don’t know if August expects that he’ll fall hard for Sara. The reality is, by the time they’re together, he already has fallen for her. Suddenly, she’s a person he’ll fight to keep in his life. Suddenly, August doesn’t want to give up anymore.

2.4-2.6: Whose Cinderella fantasy?

The first time I watched season two, I wondered if August was going to approach Sara differently after his meeting at the palace. There was always the possibility that his (alleged) new security in life would influence him to cast her aside and go back to pursuing upper class girls. Instead what we see is that August is just as devoted to Sara as before—even more devoted, in fact. He invites her to the dance so they can debut together as a public couple. He sets up his room with candles and champagne and waits for her and there’s almost marriage proposal vibes about the whole thing and we all die of second-hand embarrassment when Sara texts to say she’s changed plans. August and Sara argue at the Valentine’s dance, causing August to backslide and start scheming again, but the minute she shows up and cries at his door about losing Rousseau, he takes her in and comforts her. He buys her the horse. He refuses to snitch on her in the field when Wilhelm has a gun pointed at his chest.

Anyway. We know August has very deep feelings for Sara, and it’d be easy to say his feelings run deep enough that he no longer cares that she isn’t high class. And his feelings do run that deep. But there’s another component too, when you think about how August is envisioning his future, and how Sara is part of that future. He’s happy to have her listen in on his phone call about the ten-year plan because he sees her as part of the ten-year plan.

After August’s meeting at the palace, he no longer sees himself as the heir to Årnäs, but rather as a prince in line for the Swedish throne. A noble is supposed to serve and protect the king by making an advantageous marriage and having sons—August explains this much in 1.4 when he’s talking to Wilhelm about the Society—but the king (in August’s fantasies at least) is ultimately at the top of the hierarchy and can bend the rules to suit his will. So August marrying who he wants is really an expression of kingly power, in August’s mind. Of course he can rewrite the rules for himself and marry Sara and make her his queen. He almost says exactly that out loud, when he promises never to hurt her and frames it as a royal oath. And while August and Sara never discuss having children, I’m sure August assumes it will happen someday. (That weirdo probably has names picked out and everything.) That means he’ll be able to fulfill one of the most important duties of kingship (especially in an era where a king’s powers are mostly symbolic) which is producing an heir and keeping the monarchy going.

Anyway, I actually do think that between Sara and August, it’s not Sara who’s caught up in the Cinderella fantasy—it’s August. He really wants to be the prince who rescues her from her ordinary life of drudgery and makes her dreams come true. Why? Because August loathes himself and can’t sit with his own flaws, and it’s more comfortable to imagine himself as Sara’s princely hero than as the guy who leaked the video. And he and Sara are soulmates, in August’s mind. He sees her ambition, and sees himself in it, and he wants to reward it. I don’t think that’s something he could see himself doing as the heir to Årnäs, but maybe it’s something he can do as heir to the throne.

Implicitly I think there’s an element of competition with Wilhelm, too. Sara and August’s fight at the Valentine’s dance brings that subtext bubbling to the surface. Sara is concerned about being in a public relationship with her a royal when she saw what happened to her brother after being outed. August replies, bitterly, that he isn’t Wilhelm, and accuses Sara of just wanting sex.

It’s worth unpacking this. As viewers, we know exactly how devoted Wilhelm is to Simon. But from August’s point of view, all he sees is Wilhelm disavowing Simon on live TV and not standing by him. Keep in mind, too, that the rumors of Wille and Felice’s hookup are traveling around the school at that time, and yet Felice and Wille are not attending the dance together, probably signaling to August that either a) Wilhelm treated Felice like a conquest and then pushed her aside, or b) Felice is a gold digger who took advantage of Wilhelm for her own gain. From August’s perspective, what he’s thinking is, he’ll be more committed and mature than Wilhelm. He will be a good partner. He’s not afraid of being seen with his Eriksson sibling, who he absolutely intends to take to the dance properly and stand in posed graduation photos with and probably marry someday. August is keeping score, and he also believes in his own hype. He’s infuriated that Sara can’t see how he’s different than Wilhelm. That’s why the moment he and Sara are back in each other’s arms in 2.5, he immediately leans toward rhetoric about making her his queen and staying with her long-term. I do think he genuinely means this, but we also can’t ignore that he sees himself as better than Wilhelm for it. He’ll do an unexpected fairy tale romance of his own and he’ll do it better than Wilhelm ever did, dammit!

Now if you’re very clever (and yes, this is me trying to channel the gravitas of Abigail Thorn) you’ll notice how actively ignorant and irrational August is being. He’s constructing a narrative about his relationship with Sara that ignores their rocky beginnings. To some extent, August doesn’t have a full picture of what’s going on in Wilhelm’s head, and he’s also assuming he’ll have a lot more free will as king than would actually be true. (We see this in another way, when he tells Jan-Olof he has some ideas about how to modify the Jubilee Day speech, and gets stopped from doing so.) But it still doesn’t stop August from dreaming about being able to write the rules for himself.

Well, of course August is actively ignorant. Systems of oppression thrive on the active ignorance of those at the top. That’s exactly what allows people in August’s position to think well of themselves and genuinely see themselves as good people (who occasionally make mistakes) rather than people running a system that perpetuates wealth disparities and patriarchy and inequality.

Conclusion: The Privileges of Inconsistency and Ignorance

To sum up: I genuinely do think that August is attracted to Sara from almost the beginning of the show. At first, his warped worldview causes him to ignore or lash out at or objectify her, and overall fail to treat her with respect. When it looks like he might lose all of his power, he does have a brief window where he can see her as a fellow human being who makes him feel less alone, and discovers his feelings for her in a new light. As soon as he’s spared by the royal court, however, he becomes consumed by the fantasy of being king and rewriting the rules to make Sara his queen. Being able to cast her in that role would go against convention, but it would also be the ultimate expression of his power and agency. Other people would still have to follow the rules, but August would get to break them, because the king gets to make the rules and be the authority on everything. This isn’t, of course, what Sara wants—but part of August’s hamartia is that he assumes he and Sara are on the same page.

Maybe this isn’t a popular opinion, but it’s upsetting to me that Sara and August didn’t get to connect under different circumstances. When they work together, they work. But by god do they need some therapy and a social revolution to boot. I 99% agree with (I believe) missbolt’s post on Sara and August, where she talks about them fulfilling a deep need in one another. The one place I disagree (possibly in a very nitpicky way that isn’t really disagreement) is that I do think August sees real ambition/struggle to survive in Sara, and I do think Sara sees real vulnerability/loneliness in August. These traits are real and not illusions. Because Young Royals emphasizes choices over “innate” moral personality traits, however, what Sara and August don’t foresee in each other is the choices and sacrifices the other is willing to make. Sara is willing to put aside her ambitions to try and make things right with her brother, while August shoves away his vulnerability to try and prove to himself that he’s worthy of power within a system that’s content to just use him and toss him aside when he isn’t useful anymore.

Neither Sara nor August really expects the other to make these decisions, and that’s what drives them apart. Sara’s choice will hopefully save her and allow her to reconnect with community; August’s choice will only further isolate him and drive him toward destruction if he doesn’t check himself and change course. August could stop this cycle of self-harm if he stopped subscribing the aristocratic ideals of masculinity, but he hasn’t yet. How infuriating! The amount of sleep I have lost over this fictional character’s terrible decisions, let me tell you.

(It kills me how gendered Sara and August’s sacrifices are, too. Sometimes I just think about it and I want to scream. But I can also appreciate the well-written tragedy of it all.)

I will also say that this reading of the characters influences my reading of the show at large. It’s part of why I’m not personally in favor of the monarchy sticking around and a Prince Consort Simon future. (I get why it appeals to other people and can read others’ fics based around that, but it’s not my personal preference.) It’s also why I can’t find hotness in the idea of Wilhelm being a sort of sexy masc dom prince who orders people around and pulls strings to make things more convenient for his precious Simon. August already exists in the narrative as a cautionary tale against that kind of power dynamic! There’s more to be said here about the way you can look at August’s choices compared to Wilhelm’s, and how they are foils to one another. Ultimately, there is danger in trying to rewrite an oppressive system in accordance with one’s individual whims, even when a person imagines something as noble as romantic love as being what motivates them.

Once upon a time, I was leaving @heliza24 a comment on the Heart and Homeland draft she sent me, and I said this:

“The road to democracy is letting aristocratic boys embrace their submissive tendencies.”

And… maybe I was being a little bit facetious. But on a symbolic level I think what I meant was, Wilhelm and August both have to envision themselves in new positions, possibly even as part of a new system, if they want to do right by the people they love. Moreover, they need to think beyond the people they love, and consider the impact of their power has on the world at large. They need to learn humility, to listen, and to manage their emotions. So far, it’s Wilhelm who’s succeeding in that kind of growth, and he doesn’t win that victory by trusting in his love for Simon alone. Instead, as I pointed out in my justice meta, Wilhelm needs therapy and community and the willingness to self-examine in order to move forward. He learns to stop focusing on winning Simon’s love like it’s a prize, and focus more on being the kind of person Simon would choose to be in a relationship with, while still acknowledging that ultimately the choice is Simon’s.

Will August eventually be able learn the same lessons? Only season 3 can tell for sure. I kind of hope he can figure it out eventually, against all odds, if only so he can one day heal from his trauma. He also has to radically accept that he caused harm toward Simon, Wilhelm, and others. If August wants to get there, he’s going to have to stop subscribing to the philosophy of exceptionalism, and instead start valuing the special within the ordinary.

[theemporium]

hi king!! could i get a uuuuhhh…

"I'll do anything for a woman with a knife."

🩷 w/luke? xoxo

we tried something different with a wee historical fiction/prince au🤠they are not my forte but i wanted to try challenging myself. thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

22. "I'll do anything for a woman with a knife."

.

Luke had always found the royal festivities to be tedious and long winded. 

Maybe it was because they very rarely focused on him, with most guests taking interest in his parents or his older brothers—Quinn especially, being next in line to the throne. Or maybe—just fucking maybe—he found them tedious and long winded and boring because they were. 

He wasn’t even sure what the reasoning behind this one was, if he was being completely honest. Though, there was never usually a good reason for many of the high class patrons of the kingdom to deny the chance to be invited into the castle or flaunt their pretty fabrics. But Luke had to assume this one was semi-important if people from neighbouring kingdoms—people of importance—were making the journey. 

Still, it did little to make him feel anything but utter boredom as he did his rounds. He flashed the guests a few smiles, usually letting Jack or Quinn take over the conversation. And once he had shown his face for a socially appropriate amount of time, he found himself sneaking off in the shadows to find something to occupy himself before his father’s expected speech. 

Usually, he would find himself sneaking into the kitchens to see if the staff would slip him a few desserts before dinner or some snacks to entertain him with. 

This time around, Luke didn’t even make it to the secret corridor that led down the kitchen before he was pressed against the wall, his breath knocked out of his lungs and something cold pressed against his neck.

“Shit,” you hissed, only your eyes visible to the boy as you glanced over his face. 

Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through him that didn’t have him thinking straight. Maybe it was the excitement for something different to happen at this ball. 

Or maybe Luke just lacked common sense and self-preservation because the only response he managed after a random woman dressed in all black with a knife pressed against his throat was, “pick the wrong prince?” 

You blinked. “You matched the description.” 

“So…I was the right prince?” He asked, something akin to amusement in his voice and it threw you off.

“Do you have your life threatened often?” You questioned, partially rhetorical because a part of you was genuinely interested in the answer. “You seem very calm.” 

“I just assumed if you wanted me dead, I would have been dead already,” he replied honestly, making no move to try and escape your hold. He had a feeling you would bury that knife in him before he even got the chance to take a step.

“I could still kill you if you don’t listen to what I say,” you told him, and he knew better than to question how truthful you were with that promise. 

But still, Luke was young and sheltered and spent far too much of his time trapped in the castle, learning how to be a prim and proper gentleman. There was something thrilling about you and, for reasons his own brain couldn’t comprehend, he didn’t want to lose your attention just yet.

“I’ll do anything for a woman with a knife,” he retorted, his lips twitching upwards when he noticed your eyes widen slightly in response. 

“It’s like you have a death wish,” you grumbled, the edge of your blade digging a little further into his skin.

“So if I wasn’t your target, who was?” He asked casually, like you were two acquaintances catching up. Like there wasn’t the possibility of someone turning the corner and finding the two of you. Like there weren't guards already starting to notice his absence. 

“None of your business,” you snapped, your eyes narrowed in annoyance. He wondered if you were contemplating whether or not he was worth killing and adding the extra hassle for.

“It seems like my business when you have a blade to my throat,” Luke added cheekily. 

“You have no sense of survival,” you told him like it was an insult. 

He grinned. “Perks of being a prince, I assume.” 

“I don’t have time for this,” you grumbled and, in a blink of his eye, you were already three paces away from him. “You’re distracting me.”

He pushed down the uneasy feeling in his chest the second you were no longer pressed against him, the second your eyes were no longer on him. “Will I see you again?” 

You paused, tilting your head to the side. He couldn’t see your mouth but he had the strongest sense that you were smirking beneath your mask. 

“Depends what kind of enemies you plan to make, Your Highness.”

.

[warsofasoiaf]

A feudal contract is a method of gaining power for rulers, ensuring loyalty of the support base they need. The Targaryens didn't need the nobles as a support base before the dance, they were kept around as a convenience. The field of fire and Harrenhal prove that beyond any doubt. Even after the dance you had people like Aegon the Unworthy brutalizing people and taking noble women as he pleased (heavily implied to be without consent in some cases). There was no feudal contract, The Targaryens began as absolute monarchs with dragon power and continued to act as such until people realized that they could put a stop to it.

Westeros is it's own world with it's own politics and culture. You can't understand it perfectly by assuming it functions like medieval Europe. The fact that letting the peasants die during war is standard practice disproves the idea of a feudal structure on the lower end of society as well. The social structure is closer to ancient China.

A feudal contract is also a means to devolve power in the absence of a established central bureaucracy to administer territory. House Targaryen's use of Torrhen Stark to put down the Sunderland revolt or the various (failed) uses of viceroys and other noble appointments to administer the failed conquests of Dorne handily rebut your thesis that they kept around the nobles as a "conveinence." Aegon ruling on legal matters using maesters to advise on legal precedent and customs, and Jaehaerys I's consolidation of the legal code to ensure specific rights granted to lords, knights, and kings from everything to the right of pits and gallows to who is mandated to sit "above the salt" demonstrate that there are very clear structures in place that are very much not an "absolute monarchy." Nobles inherit their fiefs by right, a hallmark of a hereditary military caste and one of the key elements that advanced aristocratic power in regards to royal power.

Moreover, the predation of the nobility over the smallfolk, from Aegon IV's use of the Goldcloakd as his personal kidnap squad to provide women for sexual assault to the vast toll that noble warfare takes on the peasantry is very much keeping in line with history, and GRRM's writing style of "history taken up to 11." Legal protections for young peasant women who found themselves pressured to satisfy a King's lust were minimal (feudalism depended on legal inequality between the social classes). Warfare on medieval Europe often depended upon the chevauchée, a deliberate targeting of peasants to weaken an enemy's economic base and stir up unrest from the peasants who would fear the lack of protection. Medieval warfare of knights versus knights was often a chaotic affair, it was more reliable to strike at a noble's lands and villages, raiding the granaries and terrifying the populace. Taking into account GRRM's own self-described penchant for exaggeration for dramatic emphasis and his style where he often focuses on the lurid even to the detriment of the book in question (Coryanne Wilde), it's quite understandable.

I've never pretended to say that I understand Westerosi society perfectly as you assert. GRRM has been rather open about using a rough layman's grasp of English and European feudalism as a model for the political landscape of Westeros that he drew from that is relatively common to plenty of fantasy writers. He draws from plenty of sources that have shaped his own life as well - a lot of the troubles of war against the smallfolk are drawn from his experiences as a Conscientious Objector in Vietnam portrayed through medieval warfare. He's not a medievalist, but to deny that feudalism is a key component of Westerosi society is not correct, going either from GRRM's own statements or an analysis of the text as a whole; it's just flat-out wrong. You seem to have a singular fixation on the idea that because of the dragons, the Targaryens acted like absolute monarchs, but that's both not true and a remarkably limited conception of what feudalism was.

-SLAL

[melodyanqel]

A Lot Like Love | ys

summary: a walk on the beach with confessions.

pairing: prince!yeosang x florist!female!reader

genre/tags: fluff, royalty, cute, mention of social class

wc: 500+ words

a/n: first sangie post! this is seriously so adorable that i was combusting >.<

Prince Kang Yeosang is the definition of beauty. 

His looks and demeanor are so unreal that the people of Aurora can’t compare to him. But Yeosang also gets misunderstood by many. He is viewed as a stoic, untouchable man who is too perfect for the world. However, Yeosang’s true colors are much the opposite. His calming and kind personality is bright like a flower. Most importantly, a true gentleman who fell in love with a civilian. 

You are the sun that delights him and the moonlight to clear his darkest hours.

After running the kingdom the entire day, Yeosang takes you on a beach stroll as the sunset welcomes them. 

The sunset blossoms upon the horizon as if a million scarlet blooms ignited.

Hand-in-hand, the young couple took steps on the sand, and the sounds of ocean waves rustling soothed their ears. Yeosang ditched his pristine clothes, made by luxury brands, and wore comfortable, casual ones. He turns his head to see the real beauty next to him. You sense his hard gaze and look up at his glimmering eyes.

“It’s rude to stare.” You playfully remarked. A deep chuckle escaped from his glossy lips. “It’s not bad when it’s someone that you love.” Yeosang countered. You become flustered and quickly break eye contact. You hate yet enjoy how he uses his sweet words.

Surprisingly, the beloved Prince Kang Yeosang wasn’t this daring before. He used to be shy, quiet, and socially awkward. Suddenly, he found seven other friends who were princes in their respective kingdoms. Not to mention, he also comes across you giving out flowers to children at your flower shop. 

Yeosang then lets go of your hand to embrace you from behind. His strong arms wrap around your waist and his chin is on your left shoulder. “I’m curious. Why did you agree to be with me?” He inquiered. A royal highness choosing someone from a lower class did raise a lot of eyebrows, and a bit of controversy. In the end, Yeosang defended the sun and moon of his life and confronted his parents that he found happiness, from a lovely florist. 

You responded to Yeosang’s question. “It sounds straightforward but I picked you because you’re the only one in my life. I never got intimidated by your status. I see you as a human being who is unbearably cute, handsome, funny, and caring.” You tell the truth to your lover. 

Yeosang listens carefully while his heart is pounding and his cheeks blooming red. “O-Oh, wow. Thank you. Very.” He shyly appreciates your everything. You heard his stutter and smiled. It’s adorable how Yeosang gets shy and it’s endearing. 

You craned your neck to the side and looked at him. Yeosang notices it and returns the smile. “I love you.” He spoke sincerely. You flash your teeth in a wide smile. “I love you too.” You surprise him with a peck on his rosy lips. Yeosang jolted and his face became red like a rose.