Disney Cinderella - Tumblr Posts

I heard someone (xCanadensis, I believe) say that this Cinderella doll looks like a businesswoman... I could not get this picture out of my head. (Also, yes, that's Cinderella!)

Doll pictured: Disneystore limited edition Designer Collection Ultimate Princess Celebration Cinderella

Figure pictured: Twisted Wonderland nendoroid Azul Ashengrotto

Doll pictured: Disneystore limited edition Midnight Masquerade Lady Tremaine

(Anastasia and Drizella will be released this year, possibly as D23 exclusives)

Cinderella can feel Maleficent watching her, and is trying to ignore it.

"Fairy Godmother? Come pick me up, I'm scared :("

Comparison Original Design VS Redesign of The little crooked tale.

Hello, I recently started reading this webcomic, it is very good but I think it deserves more love.

I adore the Cinderella designs, she is my favorite original Disney princess along with Belle.

They managed to make the princesses' clothes consistent with the era in which they lived but preserving the magic of fantasy.

😔If only live action did the same.

Hi, I’m back. After a long working weekdays, now I’m back to drawing again. I’m draw Cinderella again. My drawing is cute now.

Thank you all so much, For following, liking and commenting my work. I really appreciate it and I hope to continue making imagines that hopeful you’ll all enjoy. Again Thanks and have a great day!

﹐ 　　 ♡　 　cinderella ˖

This artist deserves every ounce of praise they surely get. These are phenomenal!

I call this set… “Noir Princesses”.

PRINTS HERE… https://bit.ly/2NqqOX7

The Accidental Princess (Part 1)

Prince Kit x Reader

Summary: A contract has been found, after twenty years, bearing your name and Prince Kit's... bound in matrimony.

Word Count: ~3.4k words

Warnings: lots of ye olde words (maybe they sound pretty cringe??) period-typical misogyny?? that's it???

A/N: Hi, everyone! Yep, I am still on hiatus so updates for this one wouldn't be regular. This is supposed to be a Cinderella 2015 ff but I think the story feels too straightforward so I took some liberties with this one. I'm still using some characters and there will be new ones. It's a pretty different fic compared to Snapshot and Savior. It's a hUGE departure from it. I appreciate your comments and thoughts about this. I'd like to hear whatever it is you have to say about it: from the cringe ye olde words to the period-typical misogyny to the whole chapter if you find it confusing, etc. Not beta'd still so all mistakes are mine. Here is The Accidental Princess! (title subject to change)

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 |

Once upon a time, there was a girl who accidentally married the prince.

That would have been a story to be told for ages, you thought wryly to yourself.

You had met The Brothers Grimm before during one of your travels with your father to the far away land of Prussia. They were an odd sort; old men who you would have never thought to have been the author of the short tales you loved reading as a child. There were semblances of them in their stories, if one judged a person by their looks. Stories of beautiful beginnings followed by sorrow and dread. After all, not every once upon a time ended with a happy ever after.

I wonder how they would have written my story, you thought to yourself as you stood before the king.

You had been summoned to the palace the moment your ship had docked into your home kingdom’s port. There was no preamble as to why you were wanted; they only loaded you into the carriage and had presented you to your monarch without so much as a change of clothing. You were not vain but it would do well to be wearing the proper attire when meeting the king. Instead, you had met him in your leather breeches and your silk dress shirt, which in itself was scandalous, but not as scandalous as knowing the reason why you were there.

“You see, my son is to marry the Grand Duke’s niece but we find ourselves in an unusual predicament,” said the king as he stood from his throne.

You had no voluminous skirt to tuck your hands into when you were nervous. Instead, you only clenched them at your front, holding on to them like a lifeline.

“My secretary has found a marriage certificate binding you and my son in matrimony.” The king said as he stood before you. The king was an old man, stooping now but it did not dampen the commanding aura he had about him. “You had been married to my son for twenty years.”

That would have made you a child of six when you got married but you could not remember anything as far as that. Or anything at all involving a ceremony where you and the prince had been proclaimed married. Surely, there must have been a mistake.

You cowered a little, stepping backward as discreetly as you can. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, but it seems I have no idea of this certificate of which you speak.”

“Insolent child!” cried the Grand Duke. He was a stocky-looking man with a shock of blond hair that extended to his jaw and a moustache that twirled on its ends. There was something antagonistic about him. But then again, it was his niece the prince was promised to and he had every right to call you names for your ignorance of the matter.

“My apologies, Grand Duke,” you curtsied.

“Tell me your name once again, child,” commanded the king.

You stood again, keeping your head low in respect for the monarch and said your name.

“If you are who you say you are, then it must be you who signed this contract.” The king waved over a footman and took the scroll from him, unravelling it for you to see.

You looked it over and stopped as you saw the familiar scrawling of your name. It was definitely by your hand when you were six. It was a mess of letters but was discernible enough for them to read your name. Beside it was Prince Kit’s inscription, no better than yours but still enough to be recognized as the kingdom’s future monarch’s writing.

The wax seal between your names brought back a dormant memory.

You watched closely as your father, the king’s diplomat, pour hot wax on the lower part of the parchment. It was a rich blue with gold flecks, a symbol of your country’s opulence. You were always curious as to why he did that ritual of pouring wax and laying his ring on top of it after having both men sign the paper. You had asked him what it was for.

“It is a promise, Y/N,” your father had replied as he took off his signet ring and placed it sigil-down on the paper.

“Like friendship, papa?” you had asked in your small, excitable voice.

Your father had chuckled. “Of a sort. This paper is a memory of that friendship with our country and this country’s king.”

“Can I do it with my friends, papa?” You watched with curious eyes, taking note of the written contents on the piece of parchment even if you were unable to read. It was no matter; your papa will teach you. You were eager to employ this newfound knowledge and practice with your future friendships.

“Of course, mon petit. I shall have to teach you how to write your name so you can sign your promise.”

You had remembered the process. First, your father took a scroll from his sheaf of papers. He signed his name first, then the ambassador. They shook hands. Your father poured hot wax and placed his sigil on the promise then placed it on a different sheaf of papers.

Oh, no.

You recalled the moment. You had visited the palace with your father and he had let you play around the grounds while he conducted business with the king. You found the Prince Kit in the garden alone and approached him with the idea of trying out your newfound way of sealing friendships. You had not realized you plucked a marriage certificate from the Great Study, because, truly, all of your father’s contracts were one and the same and you had assumed as much for all the papers. You had innocently scrawled your name, taking good care in spelling it right as your father had told you. The prince had done the same and with your father’s signet, you sealed your—and the prince’s—fate.

“You recognize it then,” said the king as he snatched the offending paper away.

“Your Majesty—”

“You ambitious girl!” cried the Grand Duke once more and you shut your mouth immediately.

“Grand Duke.” There was a warning edge to the king’s tone. He turned to you once more. “You recognize this certificate.”

“It was not my intention to bind myself in marriage to the prince, Sir.” You swallowed. “My father introduced contracts to me as a way of keeping friendship. As a child of six, I did not know of diplomacy or the legitimacies of binding contracts nor the numerous different kinds of it. I only took the paper as I had assumed all were one and the same. I signed my name and had the prince sign his and stamped it with my father’s signet that he had me hold for safekeeping. I did not know that any agreement signed by the prince and sealed with the royal stamp would be legally binding even at so young an age.”

The silence that echoed in the throne room stretched on. Your boots scraped on the marble floor and you were once again reminded that you were not fit to be presented in front of the king. Women , even common folk, were expected to be in dresses and long skirts. You shunned the article of clothing whenever you were travelling the waters, finding breeches, shirts, and practical boots better than the full hoops of the skirt that often got in the way whenever you walked down the deck of the ship. The sailors were used to seeing you in this garb and did not find it offending at all that you were not dressed like a lady but to the eyes of the king and the Grand Duke and perhaps the many a footman you had passed before entering the throne room, you looked positively bohemian.

“We will keep you in the palace, Y/N,” said the king, which made you look up at him again.

Evidently, the news shocked the Grand Duke as well because he turned to the monarch.

“We will keep you in the palace until we find a solution to this impasse.”

“Of course, Sir,” you only muttered because what else was there to say?

“Surely, you understand the delicacy of this matter. I would not have you proclaiming to the people you are the new princess—or rather, had been their princess for near two decades already.”

You were affronted but you did not show it. You had no right to show indignation towards the king.

“In here, you are contained. You shall still be free to roam the palace grounds as you please but we will not have you out of it. If so, you shall have a chaperone and we would be informed of your itinerary.”

You merely nodded. You were a creature of adventure; the very notion of being confined within palace grounds was comparable to having your wings clipped. But you had started this problem, Y/N, and you must pay for your childish ignorance, you thought to yourself.

You were to set sail with your family again to meet with more foreign dignitaries. It had been your life; travelling from one kingdom to another. You had learned of cultures and languages, of food and dance, and everything it was that you could ever beheld. Your tiny kingdom was beautiful but the world beyond held more possibilities that you never once thought was within your grasp.

Oh, how you would have wanted to walk your father’s footsteps as the kingdom’s new diplomat. You learned from the best; your father had made you his apprentice and had taught you everything he knew of his trade. People still underestimated you. It was unheard of for someone from the fairer sex to be an ambassador, so you never truly tried. You only acted as an adviser to your father within the confines of his office walls, honing your innate talent of persuasion and diplomacy.

“Since I am common folk,” you started, not realizing that you had addressed the king before he addressed you. “Your Majesty, since I am common folk, my presence in the palace will arouse suspicion.”

“It is all being taken care of. My sister’s children will be arriving soon and you shall pose as a guest with them.” He nodded to himself, satisfied with his idea. “You were merely early in your arrival.”

“I would need my trunks with me, Your Majesty. I have arrived empty-handed.”

He looked you from your hair to your boots. “Are all your clothes thus?”

You straightened. “No, Sir. This is what I wear when I am travelling the seas. I do not find it practical to wear a skirt whilst I am on deck and the tides are high.”

“Ah, yes. You travel with your father as he is one of my diplomats. How is he?” He started making his way back to his throne.

“My father is well, I thank you for asking, Your Majesty.” You took a deep breath and watched him. You wiped your palms against your leather breeches.

“You shall send for a missive for your trunks. I cannot have you leaving the palace so soon after we have talked.”

You nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

“You may go.”

You curtsied again. “My king,” you genuflected at the monarch before doing the same to the Grand Duke. “Your Grace.”

You stepped backwards, keeping the front of your body towards the king as you slowly went out of the throne room. Once the doors had closed, you blew out a sigh and straightened, only to knock against someone behind you. You turned and gasped, rooted in place.

It was the prince. Prince Kit with his dark hair and intense eyes. He had grown handsome over the years, which shouldn’t surprise you because his father had been a handsome man when he was younger. Kit—were you allowed to address him as Kit in your mind?—had a set look on his face, a bit reminiscent of his father’s gaze as he watched you. Broad of shoulder and fit of body, his muscled legs were encased in tight white breeches and his coat brought out the color of his eyes. They were as blue as the sea and as clear as the sky.

Your husband. What an absurd notion!

“Steady,” he said as he held you by your arms.

You swallowed. As much as you wanted to look away, you cannot. His gaze held you, searching your eyes and quite frankly, perhaps even your soul. Even if you had nothing to hide, you were scared of the things he would find there. Like the matter of you being bound to him in marriage.

Your heart skipped a beat. It had nothing to do with you being nervous at him finding out about your accidental ploy of being married to him but more with the fact that you had never been looked at like how he was looking at you before. Your appearance was unkempt and you had not been able to properly re-braid your hair but something about his stare made you feel like you were much more beautiful than you truly look. He made you feel emotions not even the best of the world could offer and for the life of you, you didn’t know why.

Your knees buckled and you bent down in an ungraceful curtsy. “Your Highness,” you said with a shaky breath. “My apologies.”

“Ah, Kit! I thought the hunt would have run you ragged.” You heard the king as the door opened.

You felt someone grasp at your arm to pull you to your full height and away from the king and the prince. You looked at the prince once more, only to find him looking back at you as well.

Kit was, for all intents and purposes, an apprentice. His whole life he was schooled to be the next king of his father’s kingdom. He was taught to be a soldier to know of battle strategies. He had masters who taught him philosophies and history. He was knowledgeable in at least three languages because his parents had insisted he learn two more so he can converse with more people. He was, essentially, an apprentice monarch. And a king, even one still learning the trade, needed a queen.

Which brought him to the matter at hand. His father had promised his hand to the Grand Duke’s niece, a princess from Zaragoza. He had never met her before and was only sent a portrait that he and his father had looked at and deemed her beautiful. Her country was bountiful and their little territory needed to expand its borders. Marrying a princess from a rich country was the correct step in ensuring the best for the kingdom. It was what his father had done when he married Kit’s mother. It was fortunate that his parents had fallen in love despite the circumstances of how they met.

“I was not aware the Princess Chelina is arriving today,” Kit asked as he pried his eyes away from your retreating figure.

It was unusual for him to see a princess not in their finest clothes , either, especially one from a country that was advertised to him as bountiful and rich. He had no qualms, however, about seeing you in such a state. Clad in what was most likely your undergarments, you were a small person than what your portrait let on. You came only until his nose and even then, you still seemed tinier. Your legs were enclosed in buckskin leather, much like his own when he went hunting, and it made him wonder if maybe you hunted as well. You wore a dress shirt that was tucked in the waistband of your breeches and it accentuated your rounded hips. You wore none of those heeled shoes he knew ladies favored. Instead, you feet were clad in flat boots that went up to your knees and showcased your perfect calves. Albeit you were dressed inappropriately, it did not escape him that you were dressed practically. And sensually, he thought to himself.

You were beautiful in your portrait but in person, you were exquisite. The painter failed to capture the smattering of freckles across your nose or the hints of lightness on your hair. There was a small scar on the side of your cheek that he did not notice when he beheld your picture; perhaps the painter found it wise to not include the blemish lest it deterred him from making an offer of marriage to you, even if it was not his idea to be wed to you.

“Heavens, no. I would never associate myself with that–that thing.” The Grand Duke said, looking at your back in what could only be termed as disgust.

Kit raised a brow. So, you were not the princess. “I would assume that thing would have a name and a purpose?” He looked over at his father. “Father?”

“Walk with me, boy,” was all the king said. “Thank you, Grand Duke. We do not need you in this talk.”

Kit followed his father down the Hall of Portraits. He remembered his lessons of his family’s history, of the important people who had changed the laws and lives of many. King Alphonse. Queen Mariam. Queen Amalie, his mother. He knew it best not to dwell on his mother’s untimely death around his father, who he knew was still mourning her. She had left them so suddenly and they both had not been the same ever since. It did, however, brought them closer.

“Kit,” his father started as they arrived in the garden. “There is a matter I wish for you to know.”

Rarely did his father venture this far into the garden. His mother had kept a small alcove for her personal use, locked away but still kept clean by the royal gardener. Kit often went there when he needed a time for himself. His father did not.

“Yes, father?” Kit asked, watching his father closely as he sat.

“You are promised to Princess Chelina,” he said, to which Kit nodded. “But there is a small matter we must address before you wed her.”

He raised a brow. “Does she not want to be wed?”

“She wishes to be wed to you, Kit. However, we find ourselves at a loss for something you have done twenty years ago.” He patted the space beside him at the bench and Kit sat.

Twenty years ago? He would have been eight by then.

“Are we bringing up old sins, father? Because if we are, I do not remember what I had done at eight years old that would bear remembering.”

“My boy,” the king clasped his son on the shoulder. It was a fatherly touch but also that of a king, a touch that brooked no argument.

“You are already married.”

Kit frowned. Married? Surely, he has not signed anything akin to a marriage agreement.

“Married? I don’t remember meeting the Princess Chelina or signing a marriage contract.”

“It is because you are not married to the Princess of Zaragoza.” The king sighed wistfully. “You had been married for two decades, Kit.”

“Father, I must ask you to speak plainly. I’m married for two decades? And not to the Princess Chelina? Then who am I married to?”

“My boy.” The king looked over at one of the many rooms of the palace. Kit followed the line of his sight and found that he was staring at you. You, in your unusual clothes, watching the sea from your room.

“You have been married to a commoner, to Y/N Y/L/N, since you were eight.”

Y/N. The name sounded familiar to him. And then he knew. He remembered; the girl he had invited inside his mother’s secret garden and had played with under his favorite tree. You had brought a paper to him—a promise of friendship, you had said—and he signed it with no hesitation.

“Y/N is that girl you thought was the Princess Chelina, my boy. And she is your wife.”

He looked at the lone figure inside the palace again.

He was married to you.

The Accidental Princess (Part 2)

Prince Kit x Reader

Summary: A contract has been found, after twenty years, bearing your name and Prince Kit's... bound in matrimony.

Chapter Summary: You get settled in the palace.

Word Count: 4.5k words

Warnings: period typical misogyny, none?

A/N: Hi, guys! I'm trying my best with the taglist so if you didn't get tagged, chances are there's something wrong with the way I did it or you're un-tag-able?? Anyway, I know there are a lot of inconsistencies with this piece of fanfic but let's all just enjoy this lol. The lemon juice ink works, though. You can give that a try. I love hearing all about your thoughts! Reviews, comments, suggestions (and reblogs) are most certainly welcome! Here is Part 2 of The Accidental Princess!

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 |

It was an unusual request that you asked for lemons with your writing materials but they delivered. You merely said that those were for you to bite on but truly, it was for you to write a message that only your father could decipher. He had taught you the magic of vanishing ink one night during a particularly dreary travel. He had told you that the true message written with lemon juice would only be revealed on top of an open flame. You had tried it once and you were impressed and now, it was your only means of communicating with him without the rest of the palace knowing. This stratagem had only been used for important missives and what else could be more important than for your father to know that you had been married to the prince for two decades and that you would be kept to the palace indefinitely.

You wrote carefully, telling him to keep the information to himself. You had no ambitions of being a princess and the irony of you being one—or being called an ambitious girl by the Grand Duke—was not lost on you. You kept your secret message short and concise, and you also told him no promises of future missives lest you be found out. Once you were finished with the lemon ink, you let it dry and took to writing the obvious message with ink. You scribbled in between the lines written with lemon juice your requests for your trunks, writing implements, and the many books you were supposed to be reading. The letter was short and direct and you sealed it with wax and a sprig of lavender, your unofficial insignia, so your father would immediately know that the message was from you.

When your letter had been sent, a maid arrived, bearing with her a dress for you to change into. She had been scandalized at seeing you in your undergarments, which you had assured her that they were not, and she took it upon herself to start a bath for you.

“What shall I call you, miss?” asked the maid as she scrubbed your shoulders with warm water and simple soap. You had told her that you were fine with bathing yourself but the surprise on her face made you realize that you had asked for the unusual. Of course, guests of the king were expected to be waited on hand and foot.

“Y/N, please,” you replied. “I’m all but noble so please, do not burden yourself with titles to call me. If you are uncomfortable with calling me by my name, you may continue calling me ‘miss.’”

“It is rare for the king to house a common guest, miss, if you don’t mind me saying.” said the girl.

You smiled to yourself. “I find my situation quite uncommon for a commoner like me.” You washed off the lather. “What may I call you?”

“Abigail, miss,” she replied.

You let out a little chuckle then apologized. “Oh, do forgive me, Abigail. I find your parents quite humorous for naming you such.”

Abigail chuckled as well, to your relief. “They are humorous people, miss. My brother Hunter, he is the palace gamekeeper.”

You chuckled. “Oh, dear me. Your futures are already made out for you at the day of your birth.”

“To work for the king and the kingdom is an honor, miss.”

You turned to your maid slowly, careful of the water that sloshed on the side of the tub. “I haven’t been in the kingdom for quite some time, Abigail. Would you mind telling me what has happened in the last years?”

The maid looked at you uncomfortably. You touched the hand nearest to you and smiled. “I promise I shall not tell a soul of the things you wish to tell me. I am merely curious. If I am to be housed here for a while, I would like to be knowledgeable of what has transpired within these walls.”

Abigail looked around your room, you did as well, before nodding. “The Queen Amalie has died.”

Oh. You had not known that. When she was not present at the throne room earlier the day, you only thought she must have been busy with some other affairs. It did not cross your mind that the beautiful and benevolent queen had passed on.

Poor king. Poor Kit.

“What has happened to her?” you asked.

“She had taken ill one morning in the summer and passed on the day after. The king and the prince were devastated. The whole kingdom as well.”

“When was this?” You settled back on your tub.

“Just the year before,” Abigail started washing your hair. “Since then, the king had been in poor health. He is worried for the kingdom’s future should he soon follow his wife.”

“You do not think the prince capable?” you asked. You had known princes were schooled into being future monarchs since their infancy. Perhaps the Prince Kit was otherwise engaged in other matters, in addition to running the kingdom.

“The prince is very capable, miss. However, the king has stipulated that the kingdom be ruled by a king and a queen. Prince Kit has to marry before he ascends the throne.”

Of course. It was the very reason you were called for, after all. Your presence had been a great hindrance to the future of the kingdom. With you still legally wed to the prince, he would not be able to marry the Grand Duke’s niece.

“Does he have a bride he wishes to wed?” you asked when Abigail passed a cloth for you to dry yourself with. Any woman, noble or not, would be inquisitive towards the future queen of the kingdom. Even one married to said prince. You tried to maintain an air of ignorance on the matters so they would not be suspicious of your coming over to the palace.

“The Grand Duke’s niece, miss. It is said she is a princess from Zaragoza.” The maid let out a towel for you and you stood, taking it and wrapping yourself in it.

A princess. It was now truly understandable the ire the Grand Duke had with you. Who else is a better match for the prince than a princess?

The butterflies in your stomach fluttered as you remembered the blue of Kit’s eyes. He had looked over at you appreciatively, even in your disheveled state, and you had reacted in a way you had seen women did with their lovers. You knew you were flustered when you looked at him, felt the heat rise to your cheeks and made an utter fool of yourself by giving an ungraceful curtsy. You were often calm and collected, always poised unless the situation called for you not to be, and in that moment, you stumbled. All because of your husband.

Oh, dear.

You needed to stop calling him thus, even in your head. The king would have you locked in the dungeons if he ever caught you referring to the prince as your husband.

The dress Abigail had given you belonged to one of the former guests of the palace. It was a surprise the palace kept it at all; you knew they disposed of things that did not belong to the king or had them given away to a charity of some sort. But this dress, although a bit late in its design, was beautiful in its own way. Abigail had helped you don it, lacing your corset just right and as she laced the back of the dress, it was a surprise at how well it fit you. It was like it was made for you.

“Have you any knowledge of the Grand Duke?” you asked as Abigail buckled your shoes .

“Whatever do you mean, miss?” She took the other shoe and put it on your feet.

“I was not made aware of his presence only until recently. How did he come to be in our tiny kingdom?”

“He arrived as an adviser to the king, miss, about two years ago. We do not know more than that.”

“I see,” you said and smiled at your maid. “Thank you for your help today, Abigail. I hope you would not mind it if I ask you to give me a tour of the palace? I would not wish to get lost in any of the many rooms.”

“I fear I am not in the position to do so, miss.” Abigail said with a quick bob of curtsy. “Is there anything you require before I leave?”

You looked at yourself before the mirror and smiled. “No, Abigail. I thank you for your help. I shall see you again tonight.”

“Miss,” the young maid said before leaving.

You blew out a breath, walking back to the window and looked at the sea once more. The kingdom had suffered for a while, what with Queen Amalie’s passing and the king in poor health. The sudden revelation of your childish endeavours of being accidentally married to the prince would risk the already crumbling state the kingdom to come apart further. You had to help in any way you could; it was the very least you could do.

You strode out of your room, walking down the long hallway. You had a vague memory of where the library was, supposing it hadn’t been changed in the last two decades you had been in the palace. You recalled it being situated near the gardens on the east of the grand staircase, with ornate double doors of gold gilding. If you remembered correctly, portraits of the current royal family and ones of the prince should be hung on either side of it.

You walked down the hallway quietly, counting the rooms and committing to memory the doors and halls you had passed through lest you be lost when you return to your room. You went down the grand staircase, smiling politely at some footmen who opened doors for you. You stood before said ornate doors that you had remembered and once the footmen opened them, you went in.

The scent of wood and books assaulted your nose and you smiled to yourself. Your last trip abroad had been to Austria and you had asked for your father’s permission to take a little bit of an excursion to their famed Imperial Court Library. The place did not disappoint. Murals and frescoes of heavenly bodies adorned the walls and ceiling, with shelves that housed every possible volume of books you could imagine. It was a beautiful place and somehow, the palace library seemed to take that as an inspiration.

Any books on the politics of the kingdom would be a great help to you and to this predicament you put yourself in. You walked over to the section of the library that you thought housed the books on your kingdom’s laws when you did not notice that you were not alone in the room.

“I see you are getting comfortable in the palace, girl,” you heard the Grand Duke say.

You turned to the man and dropped into a curtsy, keeping your head down. “Your Grace.”

“What are you doing in the library?” he asked you in that way of his. His tone was almost always accusing and suspicious, despite meeting you only for a few minutes.

“I was hoping to get something to read, Your Grace.” You replied as you stood back to your full height.

“Anything in particular that you are looking for?” He walked over to you and looked you down through his hawk-like nose.

“Laws of this land, Your Grace,” you said honestly.

The way he chuckled grated on your skin. It was sarcastic and rude. “You are too comfortable, you ambitious girl. First, you marry the prince and now you wish to learn more about the laws of this land? What shall be next, turn us out of the palace?” He scoffed. “Find some light reading. There is a book on herbology that I find would best fit someone of your stature.”

You gave a polite smile. Like most dignitaries you had met, they often looked down on you. You found it best to let them underestimate you instead of engaging them in a fight head-on. You had the power prove them otherwise in the next opportunity. The Grand Duke needed to be surprised that you were more than what you appeared to be.

“Thank you, Grand Duke.” You replied with a quick bob. “Forgive me for intruding on your time in the library.”

You turned to the other side of the library, plucking from the shelves a book on herbs and plants in the German language, before taking two sheets of paper and a pencil.

“I shall bid you a good day, Your Grace,” you called out as you curtsied in his general direction once more. You saw him wave his hand at you dismissively and it cued you to leave the awful man alone.

In the very least, you knew where the library was located. The book about the laws of the land would have to wait. The book on herbology, however, looked interesting. You were conversant in many a language, reading this German book would not pose a problem. It would keep you occupied while you waited for your trunks to arrive.

You walked out to the gardens, smiling and greeting the footmen politely as you passed them. Most of the flowers in the garden were ornamental; you highly suspect they would own herbs in such a fancy orchard. Either way, it was a lovely day out and it seemed fitting that you read the book outside. You sat on one of the benches and opened the tome, starting off with Digitalis purpurea.

Kit saw you emerge from the doors of the palace. If he were honest with himself, he would say he was disappointed that you weren’t wearing your breeches and shirt anymore and that he couldn’t admire your shapely figure but with the dress you had now donned, there was no mistaking the contours your body. He had not had this visceral reaction to the Princess Chelina’s portrait, but then again, he had not seen her in person. You, however, he had seen you and had admired you. Perhaps, more than admired you. There was something different about you and for the life of him, he could not name what it was.

Other than, of course, you and he were bound in matrimony.

He could not find it in him to be angry with you. It was a peculiar situation you both had gotten into, the innocent intentions and legally binding contracts. You did not seem to be an opportunistic girl. He remembered your hope for a friendship with him, your eagerness in trying to copy your father’s way of sealing such relationships, and the way you were excited when you both had (unintentionally) sealed each other’s fate. It was simply laughable and not worth getting furious over, unlike his father and the Grand Duke.

“I see your father’s guest has taken your fancy, Your Royal Highness,” said his good friend, the Captain of the Guards.

Kit only grinned. “Don’t I always take fancy at the next pretty lady, Captain?”

The man chuckled heartily. “Need I remind you that you are soon to be wed to a princess. If there is a time as any to act on your fancy, it would be now.”

He only raised an amused brow, turning to his friend. “Is that so, Captain? Tell me, have you made any advances towards one of the abigails?”

“Her name is Abigail,” corrected the Captain. “And no, I have not. There is no reason for us to talk. For your father’s guest, however, there is. Any guest of the king is the guest of the prince as well, isn’t it?”

“If only it were that simple,” Kit all but sighed. Even if he and the captain were close friends, it would do more harm than good to tell him of your relationship with each other. His father had been adamant that he divorce the two of you quietly so he could push through with the wedding to the princess.

“Why not march over and talk to her? No one would turn away the prince.”

While he knew that was true, Kit did not want to disturb your peace. You were poring over a book on your lap while your hands were moving over a piece of paper. Scribbling, perhaps? he thought to himself as he looked over at you once more. He heard the captain say some words to him but he was only intent on watching you. He only moved when he saw the captain advance towards you with purposeful strides.

“My lady,” he heard the captain say.

Kit followed behind him, taking on an impassive air about him so he did not seem overeager to be talking with you even though he was. He wanted to speak to you once more ever since his father told him of the reason you were here. There was something in him that told him he had to know you better, other than from the words his father and the Grand Duke had said to him about you. He saw you look up from your page and stood when your eyes landed on him.

“Your Royal Highness, sir,” you curtsied before them.

“My name is Captain Thibault, miss. May I know yours?” the captain asked.

You stood to your height, eyes on Kit before turning to Thibault with a beautiful smile on your face.

“My name is Y/N Y/L/N, Captain.” you replied.

Thibault nodded to the book in your hands. “May I?”

You offered the book but his friend took the paper instead.

“Are you an artist, Miss Y/N?” Thibault asked as he showed the piece of paper to Kit. “Your sketch is remarkable.”

Kit had been under the tutelage of Master Phineas and he could see that your sketch was excellent with the way you handled your pencil. Your techniques were impeccable. It was like seeing another master’s artwork.

“No, Captain. I was just finding a way to occupy my thoughts. Luckily, I saw a Digitalis purpurea plant in this beautiful garden and decided to draw it so I can further study it inside my room.”

Kit watched you, enamored at the way you were holding yourself. Any woman would have cowered at the sight of the prince and the Captain of the Guards but you remained yourself. There was no air of pretentiousness or false modesty about you and it was very refreshing for him to see that you weren’t one to fall at his feet and wax poetic about his title or his dashing good looks.

“You study plants?” Kit found himself saying. When you turned to him, he felt himself stop at the look of your eyes.

“Oh, no.” You looked at him with your arresting eyes. “The Grand Duke suggested that I read a book on herbology because it befits my stature instead of taking the book I was intending to read. The first plant I saw when the book opened was thus.”

He raised a brow at that. “And what was it that you wanted to read?”

When you caught your lower lip between your teeth, it was a surprise that he did not catch on fire on the spot.

“The laws of the land, Your Royal Highness,” you murmured.

“The laws of the land?” Thibault asked, passing your scrap of paper back to you. “Whatever for?”

“My… friend desires to learn of the grounds of separation. She is convinced she isn’t a fit match for her husband.” You clamped the sheet in between the pages of the book.

German, Kit noted as he peeked at the title of the book you were holding. He learnt German when he was a child and had turned conversant in it. He was suddenly curious as to how you had learned such an arduous language.

“If I may inquire,” Thibault said. You watched the captain with curious eyes. “Why is the lady convinced she is not suit for her husband?”

Kit realized what reply you had given a few seconds before and watched you silently.

“For one, her husband is so above her in stature. It is an unusual marriage, if I dare say so, Captain.” You told them. Your eyes landed on Kit’s once more. “They had unmistakably signed a marriage contract and had been bound since.”

Kit’s lips twitched into a small smile and he found you give him a shy one of yours. Your offense was great in the eyes of his father but to him, it was comical. Absurd and laughable. If Sir William Shakespeare were alive and present, he would have another comedy in his hands.

“You are right, miss. That is unusual.” Thibault said. “But no matter. Should you wish to come back to the library, I am certain His Royal Highness would be of great help to you.”

Kit saw his friend turn to him and he cleared his throat. “Yes, of course. Although, I must warn you, the language the laws were written in are in English and some in Latin.”

You smiled, a dimple sinking into your cheek. “It is no matter. So long as the passage is not wholly in Latin, I think I shall understand it.” You told them.

Thibault gave you a polite smile. “Shall I escort you back to the palace, miss? Perhaps even to the library?”

“I thank you, Captain, but I must decline. I wish to tarry just a little. It is a beautiful day out and it would be such a waste to not bask in the sunlight.” You replied.

“Shall we take a turn about the gardens, then?” Kit asked. “I am sure Captain Thibault is needed by his Guards to command them.”

You looked at him, surprised. You flushed as your eyes collided with his and he would not soon forget the rosy hue that came upon your cheeks. Even with all the beautiful flowers that surrounded you, your beauty, to him, was incomparable.

Thibault only smiled in understanding and bowed. “Your Royal Highness.”

“I would not turn down a walk about the gardens.” You turned to Thibault and held out your hand as if asking for a handshake. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Captain Thibault.”

The Captain instead kissed the top of it. “And you as well, Miss Y/N.”

You blushed once more and then slipped your hand on Kit’s offered arm, walking beside him. Kit loved the garden like his mother did. The royal gardener had maintained well the bushes and the flowers. You were right; it would be a waste to spend the day indoors when it was beautiful like this outside.

“Nice day out,” Kit commented when the silence stretched on.

“Yes, it is, Your Royal Highness.” You said with a smile in your voice.

You tilted your head towards the sky and his eyes followed the outline of your face. A strong nose. Flushed cheeks. Flecks of spots across your nose. The little scar. You looked like you belonged in the lively rays of the sun, not inside the cold formality of the palace.

He caught himself looking at you for longer than what was permitted. “Please, call me Kit.” he said as he cleared his throat, turning away from you.

“Oh, I don’t think it proper that I do.” You murmured. You looked straight ahead now as you both walked aimlessly about.

“I insist,” Kit said once more. “After all, we are wed, are we not?”

Your hand squeezed his arm and he felt the heat of your palm even through the sleeves of his coat. “I apologize for that. It was not my intention to ensnare you in marriage.”

“I know,” was all he said. “May I call you Y/N?”

“You may call me whatever you wish,” you said as you bent and plucked a sprig of lavender.

“If I shall call you by your name, you have to call me by mine. It is a fair exchange.” He said with a smile as he watched you sniff the bud.

You smiled as you looked at him. “Still, it is improper, Your Royal Highness.”

“If you carry on calling me that, I shall call you that as well. You are a princess of this kingdom, after all,” he said lightly.

When you remained quiet, he nodded at the flower in your hands. “Do you like lavenders?”

“They are my favorite. I seal my letters with a sprig of this so people know they are from me.” You opened the book and placed the bloom in between the scraps of paper you had inside. “There is a reason why I wanted to read the laws of the land. I wish to help with this predicament of ours.”

Kit only hummed, walking about with you.

“Your father wishes you to be wed.” You told him, this time with a much firmer tone of voice.

“You do not wish to remain wed to me?” he joked.

“I am no princess,” was all you said. It was neither an affirmation nor a negation. Something inside Kit dared to hope. “I would not want to stand in the way of the future of the kingdom.”

He raised a brow and turned to you. You looked at him.

“You’re hardly in the way,” he said, looking deeply into your eyes.

You gave a shy smile. “Are you really as benevolent as your mother? Finding no fault even when I made such a terrible faux pas?”

All the jesting left him at the mention of his mother. It still felt quite taboo for the kingdom to talk about such terrible happening. He thought he had come to terms with it but he had not, judging from his reaction.

Your hand squeezed his arm once more. You both stopped in your tracks.

“Forgive me, Your Royal Highness. I spoke too liberally.”

He nodded stiffly.

“I shall let you be—”

“Kit! Is that you, cousin?”

Kit turned slowly to the voice behind him. His cousin made his way towards the both of you jauntily, smiling as if he did not intrude upon a serious conversation.

“Your father told me I was to find you here with Captain Thibault. I passed the good man on my way and he told me you were in the presence of a lady.” His cousin said.

Kit cleared his throat, nodding again. “Yes. Louis, this is a… friend, Miss Y/N Y/L/N. Miss Y/N, this is my cousin.”

Louis took your hand and bowed over it, kissing your knuckles. “Louis Toussaint, Duke of Granville.”

You let go of Kit’s arm, dropping into an elegant curtsy. “Your Grace.” you said. Kit was positive he heard a smile in your voice.

“Louis shall suffice, Miss Y/N.”

Kit saw the devious smile on his cousin’s face.

You rose to your height, smiling prettily at his cousin. “Very well, Louis.” You said readily.

Kit only raised his brow… and tamped down the vile green-eyed monster that had suddenly come up him.

The Accidental Princess (Part 3)

Prince Kit x Reader

Summary: A contract has been found, after twenty years, bearing your name and Prince Kit's... bound in matrimony.

Chapter Summary: Prince Kit gets to know more about you.

Word Count: 5.5k words

Warnings: Grand Duke is a bit of an a$$ but everyone knows that already, bit of period typical misogyng?? Louis and Kit both being adorable, not period accurate (but I try to stick to the real thing lol), FLUFFFFF, that's it??

A/N: Hey, guys! I know this was posted before but when I did a reread of it, it was all over the place. My bad!! It's the same thing but in the right order. Hopefully Tumblr won't c*ck this up this time. I love hearing your thoughts, you guys! Please don't be shy in leaving a comment or a review! Reblogs are totally welcome! Here is Part 3 of The Accidental Princess!

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 |

“Kit, my boy, I have been looking everywhere for you.” The king called his son as he appeared from the corner.

Your words of his mother being benevolent had brought him to the Hall of Portraits. He had left you with his cousin, Louis, since you were so enamored with him than you were with your husband. And yes, he was free to admit to himself that he was jealous of the rapt attention you gave his cousin while you gave him nary a look since being introduced to Louis.

Kit stood in front of the portrait of his mother, looking at her for a while as he remembered the day of her death. Queen Amalie had been jolly that day, hugging him and kissing his cheek as she greeted him a good morning. All she had planned was to be in her garden, planting and caring for the new species of flowers and herbs the Grand Duke had brought over from his home country. She had always spent her time of rest in the garden she loved. She had slaved herself the day before, absorbed in finishing her proposal for more international trades for the kingdom. Kit had been eager to read more of it but it was not meant to be. She had passed on the day after that. Kit, his father, the whole palace, and the whole kingdom mourned the loss of such good and intelligent queen.

“I had received word that the Princess Chelina wishes to arrive earlier than she intended. The Grand Duke thinks it a fine idea for her to know more of her future people.” The king said as he stood beside his son.

Kit merely nodded, keeping his eyes on his mother’s serene face on the portrait. “Is there a day or time we are to be expecting her in the palace?”

He turned to his father and found him staring at his mother as well. There was a sad look upon his face, a longing, as his eyes roamed over the master’s painting of her. Kit knew better than to linger by his mother’s portrait. His father had aged a decade since that faithful day and his health started to decline once she had been buried. It had not gone unnoticed to Kit that he was soon to take his father’s place on the throne.

“Zaragoza is seven days’ travel by sea and land to our kingdom. We shall see her at the end of the week.” The king cleared his throat and patted his son’s shoulder. “Your cousins have arrived.”

“I know, Father. I left Louis in the company of Y/N in the garden.” Kit told him.

“It is best you stay away from her,” said the king in a tone that did not permit defying.

But Kit was his son and he sometimes defied his father, even in small matters. “Is there a reason why?”

“She will get ideas that you wish to remain wed to her.” The king looked at his son.

Kit raised his brow. “She wishes to help with this predicament she has placed upon us.”

“I think she has done enough helping.” When Kit did not seem to back down, the king sighed. “Your mother would have known what to do, Kit.”

“Mother would,” the prince agreed.

“I miss her every day,” the king admitted.

“So do I.” he told his father. “What shall we do on the anniversary of her death? Would it be in poor taste to hold a feast?”

“No. Your mother would have allowed festivities.”

“Shall we hold one for her, then?”

“Yes,” his father replied. “She would have loved for us to be happy instead of mourning her. We shall hold it when the princess arrives.”

Kit nodded. “Do you think mother would have liked her?”

“Princess Chelina?”

“No. Y/N.”

The king sighed. “Keep her out of your head, Kit. Once she and you are separated, she will be out of the palace and of our lives for good.”

“It makes me wonder, father, why you are so adamant that I marry Princess Chelina. Isn’t what you stipulated that I only marry before I ascend the throne? You did not say she needed be a princess or a noble or titled, even.”

“She has turned your head, my boy.” The king said gravely. “I worry about that. I know her father. He had boasted before that his daughter could be very persuasive.”

Kit raised an eyebrow. “She has not done any persuasion towards me at all.”

It is quite the opposite, in fact, he thought surly. He could still vividly recall how you smiled prettily when you called his cousin by his name readily. He had been trying to make you call him by his name and you were stubborn and insistent that it was improper. For his cousin, it appeared that it was not.

“Princes are made for princesses.” The king said with finality as he looked at his son with a stern brow.

“Father—”

“I will not hear any argument from you, Kit.”

“Can I, perhaps, try to learn more about her?”

“For what reason?”

“She is a citizen of our kingdom, is she not? If you do not think her the princess, then we shall consider her a citizen of it.”

“There are others you can learn from.”

“None of them live in the palace.”

“Kit.”

“Father.”

The king sighed and turned to the portrait once more. “Do you see how stubborn he has become, Amalie? Our boy has not changed.”

Kit grinned. “I took after you, father.”

His father chuckled. “Very well, Kit, but be weary of her. The Grand Duke says she is coming after the books on the laws of the kingdom. She might seem innocent to you but for the Grand Duke, he finds her ambitious.”

“The Grand Duke insulted her intelligence by suggesting she read a book on herbology. Her reason for wanting the books on politics was to help us find a solution for this impasse.”

“The books are in a foreign language.”

“She reads German.”

The king’s eyebrow rose as he turned to his son. “Has she told you that?”

“The herbology book was in German.”

“When did we get an herbology book in German?”

“Must be mother’s since she loved tending to her garden.”

They both turned to the portrait of the last queen of the kingdom.

“Let your cousin keep her entertained, Kit. Remember that you are to be wed to the Princess Chelina. Hers is a country that we are in desperate need of alliance with. Your mother would have wanted for you to do your duty.” The king said with a tired voice.

Kit remained quiet. His mother had ingrained in him her love of her duty as the queen. She loved the people, considered them her family when she had moved from her home country to her kingdom. She always placed their needs above all else, heralding their small territory into greatness in her short reign as queen. If there was one person he idolized more than his father, it was his mother.

“Of course, father. I do not wish to disappoint mother in her expectations of me.” Kit said as he looked at his mother’s face once more.

“Good. Now that we are in agreement, there is some other matter I wish to discuss with you.”

The days in the palace were monotonous.

Your trunks arrived with all of the items you had asked for but you were yet to pick up on the books your father had sent over because of the Duke of Granville. Louis had been a great source of companionship, even at times he did seem a bit tiresome. You had known him from before, when your family had been invited by his father to visit their stately home. You were at an impressionable age then, you sixteen and he nineteen, when you first met him. You had wished that he reciprocated your feelings of infatuation but as you saw that he merely viewed you like a sister, you dashed all hopes of having your sentiments returned. Louis had also been a bit of a braggart, boasting of his worldly travels to you, before he learned that you were much more well-traveled than he was. Since then, you had a certain kinship with each other, one borne out of your love for travels.

“I must say, being out of the palace is rather invigorating.” Louis said as he stepped out of the courtyard. “Is this why I often see you out here with a book to your nose?”

“The sea breeze reminds me of my travels. Other than the smell of the flowers in the garden, I rather like the saltiness of the sea.” You took a deep breath as if to prove a point. “The book is merely for passing time.”

You looked at the sky and smiled as the sun’s shine kissed your cheeks.

“Still an avid reader, I see.”

“It was never lost from me, Louis,” you said as you turned to him. “Books, much like traveling, can take you everywhere your heart desires.”

He hummed. “And speaking of heart, my cousin seems to be besotted with you, my dear Y/N,” Louis commented with a grin as you both walked down the gardens.

“Your cousin is betrothed to a princess. I am surprised you do not know of the news.” You clasped your hands behind you, traipsing the pathway towards the late queen’s secret garden. My marriage garden, you thought to yourself wryly.

“That does not connect with my statement, Y/N.” Louis plucked a daisy and presented it to you.

You took it with a smile. “What do you wish me to say to that, Louis? That I am as infatuated with him as well?”

Louis’s chuckle echoed through the wind. “That shall suffice. Was it difficult to admit the truth?”

You shook your head, flushing. “That is not the truth.” You looked away from him to hide the pink tint of your cheeks.

“Not the whole of it.” Louis teased. The duke, apparently, was very observant and you declined to show him that he was speaking the truth.

You turned from him and walked on. “I see you have been looking at the abigails in the palace. Please tell me you have not made advancements of any kind to my maid Abigail.”

“No but now that you have mentioned it,” your friend regarded you with a boyish grin. Louis was also a lothario of sorts, in addition to being a brag.

“Louis! Don’t you dare!” You scolded playfully. “She has her sights set on Captain Thibault. I think he returns her sentiment.”

Louis sat on the bench and patted the space beside him. You sat and placed your hands on your lap, cupping the daisy he had given you.

“What makes you think that the good Captain is infatuated with your maid?” he asked.

“He is flustered around her,” you said simplistically. “And she is flustered around him.”

The duke’s grin was positively devilish. You dreaded to know what was going on in his mind.

“Was it like how you were flustered around me in Granville?” he teased. “Squeaky voice and ungraceful curtsy?”

You gave an unladylike groan. “I should not have admitted that to you.”

“Too late now, my dear Y/N. Quite too late.” He grinned.

“You are forever going to tease me so. I shall have to travel to the ends of the world to be away from you,” you told him.

“Or you could come with me to the square?” said a voice above you. “Escape my annoying cousin for a while.”

You looked up and saw blue eyes boring into yours. Kit’s. You knew the hue of his eyes even if you had only spoke to him a handful of times and had looked into them for lesser than that. You shivered at their intensity as he watched you.

You scrambled to your feet, dropping into another ungraceful curtsy. Louis only guffawed and you skewered him with a glance.

“Your Royal Highness,” you chirped, which only had your friend laugh out loud some more.

“Y/N,” Kit said good-naturedly to you. “Louis,” he said flatly to his cousin.

“Ah, cousin. It is so good to see you. A refreshing sight to see, am I right, Y/N?” Louis said once he had recovered from his bout of laughter.

You rose to your feet and looked at Louis squarely in the eye. “Yes, Your Grace. Quite,” you nearly spat at him.

Louis only grinned that charming smile of his. He knew how to spite you, the devil.

The prince cleared his throat and looked at you once more. “What do you say, Y/N? A trip to the square?”

“Any particular reason you’re going to the square, cousin?” Louis asked as he stood, clapping Kit’s shoulder.

“To get away from you, perhaps?” you supplied in a small voice. You had not realized it was loud enough for Kit to hear as well.

“I understand my cousin could be quite peeving but I did not think he has caused you this great a distress, Y/N.” Kit said.

You looked at the prince with wide eyes, turning pink when you saw the way he studied you. Why was it that he always looked at you as though you were the most fascinating thing in the world? His eyes were always inquisitive and they always held that sort of wonderment in them whenever he regarded you.

“Oh, no,” you denied, flushing feverishly. “Louis—that is, His Grace—and I were merely playing a game.”

“And a fun game it was,” Louis agreed. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the duke.

Kit only looked at you. “I see.”

“Off you go, pet,” Louis told you. “I shall miss you while you are away.”

You glared at the charming man. “I do not think I share the sentiment.”

“Oh?” He said, pretending affront. Louis pulled away from his cousin and advanced towards you. “You think you shall not miss me, Louis Toussaint, the Duke of Granville?”

You stayed rooted in place. “No. I dare say I won’t, Louis.” You told him with a false air of affection.

He leaned his face to yours, near enough to be considered improper, looking into your eyes with his happy, joking ones. “Liar.”

Your lips broke into a smile. You only hummed.

Kit cleared his throat.

Louis winked at you before pulling away. “She is all yours, cousin. I shall have to suffer spending time with my sisters while my dear Y/N is with you.”

Kit looked at you again. “Shall we? The horses are being fitted for their saddles. We shall leave at once.”

“I shall have to inform the king that I am to leave the palace grounds.” You told him. “I would need a chaperone and he shall be informed of my itinerary.”

“Whatever for?”

“A stipulation for my staying here,” you answered.

“Even when I am to take you to the square?”

“Especially then, Your Royal Highness,” you told him with meaning.

Kit seemed to have understood because he nodded. “Of course. Captain Thibault will be coming with us.”

“I can be your chaperone, pet,” Louis said.

“No.” Kit declared.

Louis raised a brow at him but he smiled at you after. “Are you really going to subject me to an afternoon without your lovely company, Y/N?”

“Your sisters are fit company, duke.”

Louis heaved an impressive fake sigh. “No matter. I shall have your unmitigated attention tomorrow, Y/N.” He took your hand and kissed your knuckles, deliberately taking longer than what was appropriate.

You bent a much more elegant curtsy than the one you gave the prince. “Louis.”

You rose when Louis dropped your hand. Kit still had his eyes on you. You shivered despite being under the blazing glare of the sun.

“I must confess something to you, Your Royal Highness,” you told Kit as Louis ambled away.

“What is it?” Kit asked as he walked beside you back to the palace.

“I am… not trained to ride a horse,” you said instead. You wanted to tell him that you feared riding the fickle creatures but you could not admit it to him lest he laugh at you.

“That won’t be a problem, Y/N. We shall take the carriage instead.” He smiled easily at you.

He nodded at the footmen who opened the doors to his father’s study. You entered what seemed to be an annex of the library, what with the number of books strewn about the table and the shelves teeming with more leather-bound tomes.

“Father, I wish to take Y/N to the square today. She told me you require that she has a chaperone with her when going out of the palace grounds?” Kit asked loudly in the room.

“Why are you taking her to the square, Your Royal Highness?” The Grand Duke asked instead.

You bowed down at the man. “Your Grace.”

He did not seem to pay you any mind. “It is improper, Your Royal Highness, for you to take a commoner on your trips to the square. People will talk.”

“She is a guest of my father’s, Grand Duke. I don’t see any reason why she should not be afforded the same courtesy as with the other guests of this palace.” The prince said.

“People will talk—” The Grand Duke tried once again.

“People do not know that she and I are wed. I was under the impression that you and father made sure the secret remain thus.”

“Your Royal Highness, it is not proper.”

“So is your insistence that I not bring her wherever I please. I would exercise caution with my next words, Grand Duke. You are speaking to the prince.” Kit said. It was the first time you had heard him use such an authoritative tone of voice. “Now, where is my father?”

“Calm down, my boy. No need to argue with the Grand Duke. He is simply worried that people will think our guest is your chosen bride.” The king said.

You bobbed another curtsy at the king who had just entered. “Your Majesty.”

“You said she is to require a chaperone. Is there one you have chosen for her or is she free to choose?” Kit asked his father.

“One of your cousins could chaperone her, Kit.”

“Louis is spending his time with his sisters. Can’t she just take her maid with her?”

You saw the king wave his hand away in agreement. “Fine. Now, leave us. We are quite busy.”

“Very busy,” claimed the Grand Duke as he looked at you with his spiteful eyes. “Such a problem you have brought upon us, girl.”

You bowed your head, breathing deeply and quietly. “Forgive me, Your Majesty, Your Grace.”

“Let’s go, Y/N.” Kit said. He touched your elbow and led you out of the study. He had left you to get Abigail while he went ahead to instruct one of the footmen to ready the carriage. When everything was ready and done, you both boarded the coach. Kit specifically asked that Abigail ride with the coach up front so that he may have time to talk to you about certain matters.

“Forgive me for being absent these couple of days, Y/N,” Kit said as the carriage rolled forward.

You were sat in front of him, your back to the road. Kit had changed into a less formal coat, its base the color of moss with golden ropes artfully embroidered to give its regal design. His cravat was the color of his eyes, blue and beautiful. He looked sinful as he sat before you with an air of nonchalance. He and Louis were cousins and although there were similarities between them, Kit was far more superior, not only in rank but in other things as well. Louis was a braggadocio whilst Kit was more reserved. He let his presence speak for himself.

“No need to apologize, Your Royal Highness,” you told him with a shy smile.

Truly, there was no need for him to apologize to you. You knew he had been quite busy, especially when you heard that the Princess Chelina was hoping to arrive earlier than was expected of her. The palace had been running amok with all the preparations for her arrival and for the feast that was for the anniversary for the death of Queen Amalie. You had wanted to help in any way you can but you never found the perfect moment to offer it. You also had not wanted to be a burden to them, remembering the unkindly words the Grand Duke had said to you.

“I wish for you to call me Kit, Y/N.” Kit said as he watched you. “You call my cousin by his name. What makes mine any different from his?”

You touched the daisy that was still in your hands. “The duke is… not as unattainable as you, Your Royal Highness.”

“Kit.” Kit insisted. “And unattainable? I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I—”

The carriage lurched and you were thrown from your seat and onto Kit’s lap. You felt his hands on your arms as he held you steady. He peered down at you, eyebrows drawn in concern. Your hands braced his thighs and you felt the corded muscles under his leather breeches. Your heart thudded in your chest and you swore you heard them thunder in your ears. You swallowed as you looked at his mouth then his eyes.

“Are you all right, Y/N?” he asked, worry marring his features.

You nodded mutely, still entranced by the blue of his eyes.

“Perhaps it is best you sit beside me.” He helped you up and planted you beside him, securing you closer to him when the carriage lurched again.

He called for the Captain. You heard Kit instruct him the stagecoach to drive carefully should you be thrown from your seat once more.

You felt your body grow hot and you had no idea if it was because you were surprised at being thrown across the carriage or because you were sat beside your husband. You did not dwell overmuch on the feeling because you did not want to put a name to it lest it made you hope.

“I am fine now, Your Royal Highness. No need to keep me locked in my seat.” You told him, clearing your throat because it had suddenly gone dry.

Kit pulled his arm away and you breathed easier. “I shall have to teach you how to ride horseback so we do not encounter such problems like this when we travel to the square again.”

At the mention of horseback, you felt your heart wedge in your throat. You clutched your hands together, feeling them damp. “I—I thank you, Your Royal Highness.” You said as you swallowed thickly. “I look—look forward to it.”

He gave a thoughtful hum. “No, you don’t.”

You turned to him. You found him regarding you silently.

“Are you afraid of horses, Y/N?” he asked gently.

You took a deep breath and nodded. “An absurd fear, I know,” you said before he could.

“Is that where you got your scar from?”

You felt his finger brush against the side of your face, touching your healed skin. “I had been thrown off a horse when I was much younger. Its hooves almost trampled me if it weren’t for my father who had pulled me from under the angry animal. It instead caught my cheek and I was left with this as a reminder of that day.”

“How do you go about your travels if you don’t ride a horse?” he asked.

“I travel mostly by sea.” You gave a small wistful smile. “I confess I have found my sea legs long before I could properly ride a horse.”

He smiled at you. “Then we shall make a day of it. I shall still teach you. One of the mares has a very kind temperament. It shouldn’t be spooked so easily.”

“That’s very kind, Your Roy—”

“Call me Kit, please. And you have not answered my question. How am I unattainable while my cousin is?”

You looked down on your lap, playing with your fingers. The daisy had fallen on the floor of the carriage now, its white petals dirtied with boot marks.

“He is a but a duke. His… title makes me less nervous around him.” You told him.

“I make you nervous?” Kit asked.

You looked at him shyly. “Very much so.”

“We must remedy that, then. If all it takes is for you to be comfortable around me to call me by my name, then we shall do it.” Kit’s face turned thoughtful once more.

“There is no need for that.” you said.

“Then you shall call me by my name?” Kit watched you closely, his face now hopeful.

“Why do you insist that I do?” you asked, amused.

That seemed to have baffled the prince because he did not reply right away. You bit your lower lip, looking away.

“You have to forgive me again. I often speak too liberally. I am a curious person.” You said, avoiding his eyes.

“I shall forgive you if you call me by my name.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, smiling a little as you turned to the prince. “You are uncompromising, are you not?”

Kit chuckled. “I take after my father in that aspect. Now, Y/N, it is a simple favor. I hope you don’t deny me of it.”

“If it shall please you, then, very well,” you said. “Kit.”

The prince beamed and all of the air rushed out of your lungs. He looked much more charming than his cousin, much more handsome and princely as his mouth stretched into this stunning smile. Your eyes stayed on the curve of his lips for a while, feeling your body heat up and your cheeks go aflame with your blush. Never, never had you ever had this reaction before.

“It pleases me, Y/N, to hear my name from your lips.” He grinned.

You smiled as you settled in your seat, playing with your hands. You both were silent for a while but you felt the change in the atmosphere inside the carriage. It felt different… to be friends with your spouse. It was one thing you did not anticipate happening and one thing your heart should be wary of.

“Where did you learn German?” Kit asked as the carriage rolled to a stop inside the town.

“I had an unconventional upbringing. I wasn’t brought up by a governess because it had been hard to find one willing to travel the seas. Instead, my father schooled me on the history of our kingdom and the countries he had seen.” Talking to Kit had been much easier now that you had started addressing him by his name and not his title.

A liveried footman opened the door and the prince descended. You gathered your skirts in your hands, emerging from the door. Kit took your other hand as he helped you down. You clutched at him suddenly when your foot slipped, gripping tightly until you were secure on the ground.

“Thank you, Kit,” you whispered.

“My pleasure, Y/N,” he murmured. “Shall we?”

You nodded as you followed beside him. You straightened, calming your heart as you recovered from your near slip.

“I would assume you learnt the language through your father?” Kit asked as he stopped at stalls and looked at the various fruits and vegetables that were for sale.

You stopped beside him. “Yes, and through the people. While my father worked, I went on excursions. I talked to the citizens of the country and learned everything I could through experience.” You smiled at the merchant. “Your apples look quite delicious, sir. I think them worthy of a position in a nobleman’s table.”

The man preened at your praise. “I thank you, Miss. Please, have one as my thanks.”

“Oh, I thank you but I would not wish for you to miss on a sale.” You told the man.

“Do you want one?” Kit asked beside you.

You turned to the prince. “Only if you shall, Your Royal Highness.”

“Give us a basket of your finest apples,” Kit commanded and nodded at the Captain, who was standing behind him.

You heard the jingle of the coin. Kit passed you an apple and you thanked him, holding the luscious fruit in your hands.

“Thank you, Your Royal Highness, and Miss.” The man said as he pocketed his coins.

“I gather you not only read German but you also speak it?” Kit asked once you had advanced from the stall.

“I would say I speak many languages. I am often the topic of conversation when I come with my father during his meets with other dignitaries and noblemen. As I am a curious person, I took it upon myself to study their languages so I knew what they were talking about.” You smiled at a flower seller. “Your blooms are very beautiful, madam, and their scent so fragrant.”

“Thank you, Miss.” When she saw the prince, she bent into a curtsy. “Your Royal Highness.”

Kit nodded at the woman. “What is it they talk about?” He turned to you.

You had bent over at one of the flowers, smelling the sweet scent of the rose. “They are surprised that my father opted to bring his daughter with him, not his son. I have no siblings and I have nothing to do whilst my father is away. I always insisted that I come along with him because I am fascinated with his work. The other dignitaries and noblemen think me overambitious for wanting to be like my father, since the fairer sex can only be for the home.”

You straightened and turned to the prince, only to find him hand you a bouquet of lavenders.

“Your favorite, if I remember correctly?” he asked as he presented the buds and blooms to you.

You smiled softly, taking the bunch from his hands. “Yes, they are, Kit.” You shyly put your nose on the buds, inhaling its sweet scent.

Kit smiled and he thanked the flower seller. He gestured for the way and you both ambled on.

“Was your father made aware of these topics?”

You nodded. “It is a difficult situation for him; to try and defend his daughter and risk not brokering agreement with the country or to let them insult me but have an agreement done. I developed thick skin since then. I’ve learned to not care for their words because it would not give me success if I do let it dishearten me.”

You both talked as you made your way around the square. People bowed and curtsied at the prince while you commented on the things you have found beautiful or worthy of praise. It was not as beautiful as the markets in Castilla or in Florence but it had it’s own charm unique only to your kingdom. The people were friendlier and happier. They seemed to enjoy their labour, instead of whinging about it.

It was nearing nightfall when you both rode back to the palace. You had learned a lot from Kit as well. He had told you of his aspirations for the kingdom, the laws he wanted to pass and proclaim. He talked more of his mother and her plans for more international trade. He had even asked for your opinions because you had seen what it was like in the other countries while he only learned them from books. For the first time since you had decided you wanted to be a diplomat, Kit’s simple question made you feel like you were one step closer to achieving it.

The merchants all had offered a piece of their sale to the both of you and you arrived at the palace bearing one of everything that was available for purchase in the square. Your most prized possession was the bouquet of lavenders he had given you and you had only let it go for Abigail to bring to your chambers.

“I shall warm your bed for you, miss,” Abigail said when you all had arrived back in the palace.

“Thank you, Abigail. Please, take some of the fruits for yourself and for the kitchen staff. I shan’t be able to eat them all.” You alighted the carriage with the prince’s help once more.

Abigail smiled and bowed at both you and the prince. “Thank you, miss. Your Royal Highness.”

“Let us tell father you have arrived. Perhaps he wishes to know you would like to go have dinner as well.” Kit grinned.

You chuckled lightly. “Do not tease your father, Kit. He is merely worried.” You followed him.

“Then I shall be happy to report that there’s no reason for him to be. We have both survived the trip to the square unscathed.”

You both smiled at each other.

The doors to the dining hall opened and Kit strode in. You stepped behind him.

“You took your time, my boy, but it is no matter.” The king said. He stood from his seat at the head of the table. “Come, Kit, and welcome the Princess Chelina of Zaragoza.”

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The Accidental Princess (Part 8)

Prince Kit x Reader

Synopsis: A contract has been found, after twenty years, bearing your name and the Prince Kit's... bound in matrimony.

Chapter Summary: You tell of truths you had been meaning to tell

Word Count: 10.6k words

Warnings: not sure if there is period-typical misogyny on here but might as well add it to the warning, bit of fluff, smidgen of angst, once that is not as nicely written as others?

A/N: Hi everyone! How's everyone doing? Advance Happy Valentine's Day y'all! I only have 2 more chapters after this, plus an epilogue, so stay tuned! There is no promise the next few chapters would be as long as this one (maybe longer, maybe shorter, who knows?) TAGLIST IS CLOSED! (apparently you can only add 50 mentions? i wasn't aware of this before???) As per uzhe, thoughts, reviews, comments, suggestions, requests (and reblogs) are very much welcome! Not beta'd, we own up to our mistakes. Please enjoy Part 8!

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |

You poured hot wax on your folded missive, taking a sprig of lavender from the bouquet Kit had given you weeks past and placed it atop. You watched as it dried, sealing your letter written in lemon juice ink from all the world to read.

Your talk with the gardener had proved fruitful as he confirmed your suspicions of which plants and bulbs the Grand Duke had gifted the late queen. They had been of the poisonous variety, with their insidious properties masked by their beauty. The gardener had been surprised that the queen insisted they be planted alongside her harmless flowers. He had no choice but to follow through her wish and had planted the pernicious blooms in the open garden, despite his fear of people being poisoned for accidentally picking at them.

You had wanted to tell the man that his fears had come true, that the blooms he had planted claimed the life of the very queen who had asked them to be there. You refrained from doing so, not wanting the poor man to blame himself on a death that was not his fault.

It had been the Grand Duke’s design; you were sure of it now. Why the nobleman did it, you had not one idea. Even if you were adamant in knowing of it, the only way to learn of it was to directly ask the man.

You shivered. The very thought of nearing the man, so much as addressing him, sent a wave of coldness about you. He was sinister and vile, and he had threatened to get rid of you for crossing him. If you asked him why he did what he had done, he very well could have killed you for even asking such a question.

Your thoughts moved to the vials of antidotes you kept on your person. Since discovering his penchant to use harmful herbs, you were careful of the food you ate. You only drank tea that you had brewed yourself and ate food only after he had taken a few bites of his. You were highly suspicious of everything that involved the Grand Duke that you kept a close watch of his every action.

Once the wax seal has dried, you replaced your writing implements in their case and kept the letter in your bureau away from prying eyes. You were yet to address the letter but you knew the person you ought to have the missive read be someone you trusted the most.

As you were clearing your desk, hurried raps sounded from your door. Your heart leapt to your throat, making you squeak when they knocked hard again.

“Y/N!” Louis’s voice sounded from the opposite side of the door.

You breathed out a sigh of relief, swallowing the bile that had come up. You had thought it was the Grand Duke, who had come to make good of his threats to you. Surely, it was not beyond the man to do so, especially since he wanted you gone from the palace.

You opened the door, looking up at your dearest friend’s scowl.

“Louis?” You called.

He barreled his way to your chambers, standing in the middle of it. There was a set look about his face, something that was not seen often on the jolly duke. The only time Louis had been serious—and far less than the one you were currently faced with—was when he had been embarrassed by a guest in his own home.

“What’s wrong?” You asked gently. “Is it Granville? Has something happened to your home?”

He ignored your questions. “Why are you here? Why did the king invite you to the palace?” He inquired instead, surprising you.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Come now, Y/N. It is a simple question. Need I repeat myself or are you deliberately not answering it?”

“What brought this on?” There was something amiss about the duke. He looked angry at you but also there was a hint of betrayal on his face. Your heart clenched at the emotions on his face. It was unusual to see both on him at the same time.

“Answer my question. Why are you here?”

You straightened, hearing the authority in his voice for the first time and not wanting to argue with it. “The king asked me for my help with some matters.” You told him flatly.

He scoffed and shook his head at you. “Really now. Lying? I never thought you would stoop so low.”

You frowned. Ire overshadowed your concern for the man. Lying? You? When had you lied to your dearest friend?

“I’ve never lied to you, Louis. Tell me when I had.”

“You never told me why you were here, Y/N. You never told me the full truth of it.” He paced the room, shaking his head. “You must know that accounts for lying by omission!”

You did not know what had happened for him to question your presence in the palace. He had never been curious in all the time you and he had been here. Why now? you wondered.

“Were you even planning on telling me you’re married to my cousin?”

You felt as though you were drenched in cold water at the surprise of his question. You trembled from within and you hoped it did not show. How did he know? Who told him?

You swallowed and schooled your features.

“From which rumormonger did you get this nonsense?” you asked, affecting your voice with a light tone. You felt a cold knot settle in the pits of your stomach.

Betrayal flared in his eyes. “Stupidity does not become you.”

Your mouth slackened, stunned at his insult. “I beg your pardon—”

“Are you going to deny you’re married to Kit? Are you going to lie to me again?”

“Louis—”

“Did you have your fun, Y/N? Did you enjoy making an imbecile of me for not knowing the truth?” he spat.

You frowned once again, confused that he would think of himself as such. “‘Have fun?’ ‘Imbecile?’” You echoed. “Louis, I would never have fun at your expense.”

“And I had! I had fun at your expense, and you did not even have the decency to tell me you’re Kit’s wife! That you are the princess of his kingdom!” His eyes had gone back to being accusatory.

You swallowed. You did not say anything at all to him.

“You are married to my cousin, who is betrothed to Chelina. You knew what I felt for her. You even tease me for it! What am I, then? A stupid spectator to this farce? Was I only invited so all of you would laugh at me for being oblivious of what is happening around me?”

You shook your head wildly, nearing him. Even if Louis was angry, you knew he would never lift a hand to hurt you. “No, of course not. You’re not stupid. You’re my dearest friend. My best friend.”

“Best friend?” he asked. There was disbelief in his voice. “Even just friends trust each other with secrets,” he ground out.

You felt your eyes water and you shut them tightly, not willing the tears to fall. You were exhausted and troubled. The last thing you wanted was to argue with Louis, or even placate him for your fault.

“The risk was too great for me to tell you, Louis,” you said helplessly, watching the anger in his face dissipate at the quiver in your voice. “You do not know how much I had wanted to tell you the moment you arrived in the palace.”

“But why didn’t you?” He asked.

You ached at the confusion and betrayal in his voice.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that you were married to my cousin?” he asked you gently.

“Because—Because I will not stay married to him.” You breathed out and wiped the tears that sat on the corner of your eyes. “The very reason I am here is so Kit and I could get a divorce. The king wants him to marry Princess Chelina. How would he if my name is still signed in that marriage contract?”

You watched the duke, at the emotions that flitted across his face. He is angry because he felt betrayed that you did not tell him of your secret, you told yourself. His anger was not misplaced.

“I did not wish to keep you in the dark, Louis. I had no choice but to do so. It is the king’s wish that I keep my marriage to Kit a secret. It is a big scandal that the princess of the kingdom is a nobody, a commoner who did not even have a proper basic education.”

You heard Louis sigh. He walked over to your bed and sat on the edge of it. You did the same, sitting beside the duke.

“Since when have you been married?” he asked, his voice tired.

“Since I was six,” you said in a hushed tone.

“You were six when you married Kit.” He repeated in disbelief.

You nodded.

“How did it happen?”

You took a deep breath. “It was my fault.” You told him everything there was to tell; from your mistake of taking a marriage contract to the moment the king had asked of you to come to the palace. And because you felt the guilt of not telling him everything the moment he arrived, you recounted Kit’s confession of love in his mother’s garden as well.

Louis remained still beside you, only listening to your words. His reaction as you went on ranged from confusion at how it had happened, to anger at the way you were addressed and treated when you arrived at the palace, and finally of pity when you told him that you loved his cousin as well but you would not allow yourself to. He only spoke when you had finished.

“Why don’t you tell him you love him, pet?” he asked you, voice soft.

You shook your head. You wrung your hands together before you. “I don’t want to cause another scandal, Louis. He is to marry a princess. The king and the Grand Duke made that very obvious to me.”

“But you’re a princess. Surely, Kit would not have to marry Chelina because he is already bound to you in matrimony.”

“I am a princess only by marriage. It is no good to them.”

“Because?”

“I have nothing to offer to the kingdom. I am no tool for the prosperity of it.” You shrugged casually but on the inside, you hurt at the unfairness of your situation. “They want him to marry for advantage and who is the better candidate than a princess of a thriving, bountiful country.”

“Does Kit have a say in this?”

You looked at your dearest friend. “Even if he does, he must weigh it against his father’s wishes. I would not want to place him in another predicament when it is my fault that we are in such a problem already.”

“Kit loves you.”

You swallowed painfully, mind replaying that night. “It does not matter.”

“Come now, Y/N.” He scoffed. “‘Does not matter.’ My aunt and uncle were in love.”

“Your aunt was a princess.” You pointed out. “If she were a commoner, they would not have met.”

“And you believe that?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Why?”

You frowned. Surely, he knew what these political marriages stood for. “If all monarchs had chosen love over their duty, I don’t think the kingdom would thrive or be as how it is now. Marriages had always been for alliances. There are the lucky few who love their intended and the unlucky ones who do not but always, always marriages are for advancement.”

“How did you become a pessimist?” He mimicked your frown, not in mockery but in confusion. Like he, you were a jolly person, albeit a tad serious and far less vexatious.

“Only pragmatic, Louis. If I remained married to Kit and be queen, I would not have anything for the kingdom. The last thing you would need is an incapable monarch.”

You knew you spoke the truth. You had nothing for the kingdom, no riches to give, nor a hefty dowry that would be of use. Instead, you only had yourself and your abundance of knowledge from all the traveling you had done. It was nothing that would ensure the prosperous future of the kingdom. You were nothing but a speck of insignificance to the whole of the kingdom.

“What are your plans after your divorce? Where will you be?” Louis asked after some time.

He stood by your fireplace now, watching the cackling embers that warmed your room.

“I shall be traveling with my father again, of course.” You remained on your bed, watching your dearest friend. He seemed to accept the truth fairly quick and found no fault in what you had done.

He raised a brow at you. “You rather you remain in that ship of yours than in the kingdom?”

You shrugged. “There is nothing for me here. I have no reason to stay.”

“Then may I suggest a marriage pact with me, pet?”

You raised a brow at the duke, lips quirking at the absurdity of his idea. “I hope you see the irony in your words, Louis. The very reason I am in this predicament was because I intended a friendship pact that ended in my marriage instead.”

He made a face, scrunching his nose when he realized. You gave a small giggle, your first since telling him of everything. Trust the duke to lighten your spirits, you thought gratefully.

“I may have worded it wrongly but that is what I mean.”

“Is that so?” you teased.

He ignored you. “It is no secret that we share none of that amorous love with one another. At best, we tolerate each other.”

You quirked a brow, amused. He went on with a roguish smirk on his face.

“This pact is more for your protection, pet. I would not want you to be married off to the last ineligible bachelor all because you had been divorced. I do not care for your status.”

“No, I don’t think you would,” you piped in, crossing your ankles under your skirt.

“As the Duke of Granville, I am expected to produce heirs to ensure that the duchy remains in the family.” When he saw your frown, he quickly followed through his statement. “I assure you my intentions are not barbaric."

You hummed, waiting for him to go on.

He cleared his throat and stood straighter, hands behind his back. “I am quite sure there had been hordes of men who had asked for your hand in marriage during your travels. I am sure as well that they sung praises and told you of promises. I shall forego telling you all of those because mine and theirs are all truly one and the same.”

Your lips turned up in amusement. “If you are trying to be romantic, you are failing at it, Louis.”

He frowned at you and you chuckled at the funny expression of his face. “It is not every day I go off proposing to ladies, pet.”

“No, perhaps not. You only go off wooing them,” you said with an affectionate roll of your eyes.

He sighed. You chuckled.

“But carry on,” you urged. You made a show of listening intently to him by turning your face up at him. “It is my only chance to be romanced by the great Duke of Granville.”

He harrumphed, lifting his chin up in a show of pomp. You snickered.

“If you wish to know my promises then, pet, here they are. I am titled. Everything that comes with my title shall be yours when we marry.”

“Of course.” You nodded.

“I shall give you the freedom you crave as well. We can travel far and wide to the places you have not been to. All I wish in return is for your companionship and perhaps, we might be able to produce an heir for Granville.”

You bit on the inside of your cheek. Louis did not ask for much in his suit. He only wanted your companionship and an heir. You would have the freedom you so wish, as well as protection and status. But with marrying Louis, you would be cousins with Kit.

Your heart beat violently in your chest at the thought of your husband. As soon as the divorce was final, you were sure the king would not wait a second more to marry him and the princess. To Kit, you would be nothing more but a distant memory to him, even if he had claimed that he would never forget about you.

But you could not take it. To be cousins with him was much more painful than leaving the kingdom. As Duchess of Granville, you would be oft invited to royal balls and feasts. It was inevitable to not see him.

You swallowed thickly, feeling the burn in your eyes as you started to tear from all the thoughts that came to mind. “Louis…”

Louis must have heard the waver in your voice because his features softened. He returned beside you on the bed. “I knew you would not accept, pet.” He took your hand. “I am cousins with the man who loves you and you love in return. It must be painful for you, even now.”

“Perhaps not as painful as to see the Princess Chelina be married to your cousin.” You turned to your dearest friend, blinking away the tears. “What a farce our lives had become. Me, married and in love with your cousin, and you in love with his betrothed.”

“It is like we are Shakespeare’s characters in his play.” His smile was sad on his face. It looked very unnatural in him and your heart ached at the sight of it. “In spite of all that you had said, you must know, pet, that I am loyal to you. Even when you shall be divorced from my cousin. Whatever it is you wish for me to do, I will do so.”

You smiled at him gratefully. “Thank you, Louis. Then you should know I will do the same for you, even if I had declined to be the future Duchess of Granville.”

He squeezed your hand in thanks and stood. “I shall go now. Thank you for explaining to me what had happened.”

“Before you leave,” you said. It was a good time as any, to give to Louis the letter you had written. You trusted the duke. You knew he would understand.

You stood from your bed and walked over to your bureau, pulling out the secret letter. Louis was a duke and he would have the safety of his title to spare him from the Grand Duke’s wrath should your letter be made public.

“I need you to have this for safekeeping,” you said as you neared him. You held out your letter to him. “You can only open it when I have gone from the palace. And when you do so, promise me you are in a safe place, that you have your men ready to protect you.”

He took the letter gingerly from you. “This sounds rather grave, pet.”

You nodded. “I hope you trust me enough not to ask questions, Louis.”

He nodded and kept the letter in his breast pocket. “I only have but one.”

You looked at him.

“May I know something about its contents?”

You bit on your lower lip, contemplating on just ignoring his request. “It is about what had happened the year before.” You told him instead. You refused to say anything more, hoping your cryptic answer would be enough to quell the obviously growing curiosity in the man.

He only nodded and opened the door. “I promise, pet. I’ll do as you ask.”

You gave a wan smile. “Thank you, Louis.”

He went, leaving you wondering if you had indeed made the right decision.

In the days that followed Louis’s confrontation of you, you kept mostly to yourself. You had finally picked up on the books that you had asked your father for and had finished them all quite quickly. When you had exhausted your selection of novels, it was only then when you would venture to the gardens. You always chose the time Kit would be training with Captain Thibault or when he would be busy in his office so you would not cross paths. It was your way of distancing yourself from the impending heartbreak of the divorce. The lesser you saw of him, the lesser the intensity of the heartbreak would be.

Louis was an amiable companion since he learned you were the princess. He still had his happy mood about him but he took more care of his jests around you. You had assured him that he would not be sent to the dungeons if he joked around you—not that you had any power to do so but it eased the duke’s mind—but he was still cautious of his words.

You did have noticed the longing glances he casted on the Princess Chelina one night at dinner. While the subject of their conversation was a happy one, their tones were not. It added to your heartbreak that your closest friend pined for someone he could not have as well. How unfair the world is, you thought miserably. You understand your misfortune; you brought it upon yourself. Louis was an innocent bystander to all of this. He was not meant to have his heart broken.

“Pet, I seemed to have forgotten something I was meaning to show you.” Louis said as he broke free from escorting you to the kitchen for your nightly tradition of tea. “Would you mind it if I let you go ahead while I retrieve it?”

You smiled gently at your friend. “Not at all. Shall I have the usual biscuits prepared?”

“Please. Perhaps you can ask Cook to prepare for chocolate biscuits as well?”

“Of course.” You smiled. “Go along. I shall have it all prepared once you return.”

You headed towards the kitchen, greeting the servants and the Cook before asking her to prepare the biscuits Louis had asked for. You had also asked for Abigail to bring you some writing implements to pass your time while the tea steeped. When all had been prepared and Louis still away, you took to writing an overdue missive to your father.

Dearest Father,

I have been missing you! Forgive me for not writing so often. It is difficult I fear I had been occupied with matters in the palace; matters not unlike the one I had told you in my last missive. A solution had been found now and we await word from the magistrate. I wish to tell you of everything that has hap I had been doing whilst I was kept here but I fear I will run out of paper to account for all of the happenings. I shall tell you of the important parts of it:

Louis Toussaint arrived in the palace at the same time as I and he has kept me company for my stay. I confess he is still as tedious and as charming as he had been when I first met him. He is not anymore the Marquess of Reading, however. He has taken his father’s title as the Duke of Granville after the former duke passed quite some time ago. He is still unmarried, which comes as a surprise to me. He had proposed to me much to my consternation, which I promptly turned down. I only view him a friend and I had told him of that, to which he agreed. There are no ill feelings towards us with my rejection. I shall hope, though, that when he finds his future Duchess of Granville that she would be tolerant of his rather flamboyant behaviour. Louis is not hard to love but I feel he is quite too much sometimes.

I had met the prince’s betrothed. Chel She is a princess of Zaragoza. She is very soft-spoken and well-mannered, like the Prince Giacomo’s sister. The king had tasked me to accompany her on a trip to the square a few days past. She was very polite with the citizens. I think she shall be a great fit for the prince.

Kit The prince is very intelligent. I had the pleasure of knowing him quite very well during my stay here. His ambitions for the kingdom are wonderful and I know he shall be a great king some day. How I wish I could stay and see the improvements I would love to stay I wish I could remain mar He cares for his father, the king, so much. I had no idea his mother had passed the year before. He still laments her loss and he does everything in her memory. I wish to see him happy before I leave the palace. It is not for his peace of mind but for mine. I love him

You hummed lowly as you wrote your letter, hearing the commotion from the kitchen staff at Louis’s entrance. You dipped your quill in your inkpot and was about to start on another paragraph when you heard a voice.

His voice.

“Louis told me I would find you here.” Kit said with a low voice, as though if he had been any louder, he would have disrupted your peace.

Your hand stopped before the quill could touch the paper. A drop of ink blotted on it and you watched as it spread on the page, mimicking the rising panic in you. You had been successful in your avoidance of him, so successful that you pined for him whenever you had gotten out of his way. Your feared—in your refusal to tell him that you loved him—that him not coming to you was indicative that you were nothing more to him than a fleeting fancy.

But he was here, in the small space you and Louis had claimed to take your tea, because his cousin had told him you would be found here. Oh, Louis. I do not know if I am cross with you or if I am joyed that you had sent your cousin to me, you thought to yourself.

Your chair scraped against the floor as you stood, your hands clasped together before you as you regarded him nervously.

“Kit,” you whispered, voice trembling, nervous to finally be facing him after quite some time evading him.

“Y/N,” he breathed. He looked as nervous as you felt, with his cravat loose and askew on his neck. His hair looked like hands had run over them. Had he, perhaps, kissed the Princess Chelina? He looked rather mussed. He even looked flushed.

You swallowed the jealousy that came up to your throat. “Is he coming?”

Kit’s face fell at your question. You watched in regret as his shoulder slumped forward, his demeanor changing. He swallowed before answering.

“No.” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “I will call him if you wish—”

You shook your head. You were exhausted from running from him. And clearly, Louis had planned this meet between you and Kit.

You both watched each other. For the first time since that night, there had been scarcely any words between you. The air felt thick with unsaid confessions and intense emotions yet none of you were brave enough to voice them. You knew you could not do it, even if you had longed to scream it the moment you ran from him.

You licked your lips and gestured for the chair before you. “Would you like to—”

“Yes,” he replied, quite eager in his response.

Kit wasted no time walking towards the chair opposite yours. He sat after you had but he did not engage you in any conversation because you were silent as well. You quietly folded your missive and kept it away.

You pushed the tea to him when you found him just staying still. “It is a special blend,” was all you said.

He took the cup and drank at it, emitting a satisfied sound when he replaced it on the saucer. “This does not taste the same as the one Father had been drinking.”

You looked at him and tilted your head to the side. “I’m sorry?”

“Father mentioned that he had been drinking your blend of tea.” He told you. “He rather enjoys it than the tea he had from before. He has fared far better than he had since he began taking it.”

You nodded mutely. “That’s good to know,” you said. You thought of what he had said, of the improvement of the king’s health and remembered that. It was another suspicious thing to note, especially since his health had improved over a simple blend of tea.

“Kit—”

“Yes?” He said immediately. He looked at you with eager eyes, watching you closely.

You took your teacup so your hands were occupied. “Since when had your father been sick?” you asked gently.

“Quite a while, I’m afraid.” He replied.

“Since your mother’s funeral?” you asked.

You saw as he watched you with a bit of surprise in his face. “Yes. His health had declined since she had been buried. He had not been better ever since, until he started drinking your tea, that is.”

You nodded, sipping at your drink. “And your engagement to the Princess Chelina?”

His hand hovered above a chocolate biscuit. “What of my engagement?” His voice was quiet and strained.

You bit the inside of your cheek at his tone. “When did you become engaged to her?”

“Y/N, I don’t want to talk about her—”

“Please,” you urged. “I just want to know.”

He took the chocolate biscuit and ate it before answering. “Months after mother’s passing. Father was not getting any better and he decided that I should marry the Grand Duke’s niece so the land may have an heir.”

You nodded. You sipped your tea once more, quiet and deep in thought. It was a sound reason, especially coming from the king who was worried for the future of the kingdom. It was a possibility, then, that the Grand Duke had orchestrated the Queen’s passing so he many instate his niece on the throne. If he had, then it would mean he would have control of the kingdom through his niece. But why would he need to do that if he was already the royal advisor to the king?

“That is an interesting piece of jewelry. I haven’t seen it before on your wrist.” Kit commented, his eyes locked on the bracelet the Princess Chelina had purchased for you. It had become your favorite accessory, wearing it almost every day because the blue stone reminded you of Kit’s eyes.

You touched the stone, small smile on your lips. “Yes, it is new. Princess Chelina bought it for me in the square.”

“In the square?”

You nodded. “It is a product of our kingdom, mined from the very mountains that border us on the east.” You pulled it away from your wrist and held it out to him. “I confess I haven’t seen anything as beautiful as that.”

Kit took it from you, running his finger down the intricate metalwork. “What do you know of those mines?”

You raised a brow at his question, at his tone that seemed unusually suspicious. “The shopkeeper told me of its discovery and the history of the mines. That there had been people who were interested in buying them but never had the chance to do so because your mother had died and your father had not decreed anything about it.”

He nodded absently, eyes still on the gem. Blue on beautiful blue. “The mines were part of my mother’s plan for international trade. No one was allowed to export them without her permission. She believed it is our most precious product.”

“I was told that it is only in our kingdom that these stones could be found. I could see why your mother thinks it precious.” You muttered, eyes turning on to the biscuit plate. “Knowing the nobles’ and the royals’ penchant for shiny, beautiful stones, they would covet the mountains and would likely buy whatever it is you sell them from those mines. I could say so for a fact because I had seen how they had coveted gold when I was in Florence.”

Kit nodded again. “Father wishes to sell the mines, not just the stones. I told him no,” he confided.

“I do not think it a smart idea to sell the mines either.” You murmured as you poured another cup of tea. You refilled Kit’s cup too.

“Why do you think so?”

You sipped your tea, tasting the lemon and peppermint on your tongue. You looked at Kit once more, finding him looking at you instead of the intricate piece of jewelry in his hands. Still in his eyes were the same love and wonder in them. Your heart cried at your refusal to acknowledge how it felt.

“Let us say, if you were to be asked of what to do with the mines, what would you do?” Kit asked when you remained quiet.

You put your tea down, eyes turning to the liquid in it. “I would create more jobs with it.” You replied. You ran your finger on the rim of the cup, watching the small waves that were created on the drink.

“Oh?”

You nodded, looking at him. “Yes.”

“For profit?”

You took a chocolate biscuit, halving it and leaving the other on the plate. “That would only be a consequence of my plan. I would do it for the people.” You ate a piece of the biscuit. “I had the opportunity to talk to some more of the citizens in the square, not just the merchants and shopkeepers but also the peasants. Don’t you think it ironic that the people who take care of our agriculture are the very ones who starve because the wars had left them unemployed after depleting their yield? I thought, perhaps, that if I were to put half of those peasants to work in the mines and the other half to continue working in the fields, then there would be jobs for them without fighting for who gets to sell more of their yield to the merchants.”

Kit watched you quietly, listening to you as you went on about your rant. He kept silent but nodded as you made your points. He then took the other half of your biscuit, smiling softly at you. “You seem to have given your answer some thought, maybe had even readied one long before I could ask you the question.” He teased.

You chuckled at his jest. “It is the truth. There is nothing I want more than to see a kingdom flourish with all of its people. No one should be left behind. Everyone, even the smallest of us, has a purpose.”

There was a sparkle of admiration in Kit’s eye. You preened at the unspoken compliment.

“You are brilliant,” he said with a genuine smile.

You flushed at his words, looking at him shyly through your lashes. “Thank you.”

He placed the bracelet back on your wrist and you shivered as his fingers lingered on your pulse. You were positive he felt the increase in their speed. He did not draw his hand back immediately. Instead, he traced idle figures on your skin and you let him. Because even if you could not have him in your life, you at least had this moment to remember him for the rest of it. You resigned yourself to the comfort of his nearness.

“I see you have your writing materials about,” Kit said after a while.

You looked at the folded paper and the inkpot beside you. You were yet to finish your letter to your father.

“Yes. I was writing to my father. It had been a while since I had last sent a letter. He must be worried about me.” You told him.

“What have you told him?”

“Just… events. Louis’s arrival. The princess’s. I was going to write of my trips to the square.”

“Me too, I hope?”

You looked at him, feeling impish and a teasing smile graced your lips. “Is there something worth mentioning about you? I tried but I could not find any,” you joked lightly.

Kit’s chuckle was explosive; it erupted from the deep of his chest and when it did, it brought with them wrinkles around his eyes. It was a wonderfully joyous expression on his face. You loved watching how his face changed. You loved him, that was that.

“You wound me, Y/N,” he teased back.

“I have not gotten to wounding yet, Kit.” You grinned.

He laughed once again. You felt your stomach turn at his every chortle.

“I jest. Forgive me.” You took your cup and drank.

“All is forgiven.” He smiled at you and tilted his head to the side as he studied you. “Do you miss him, your father?”

You nodded seriously, sobering. “Very much so.”

“Would you like to visit him tomorrow?”

You bit your lip, considering his words. It would be quite an excursion. You lived far from the palace, nearer to the borders of the next kingdom. The journey would take quite a while just to get there.

“As much as I would like to, it would take up most of the day just to go to and from there. I would not be allowed to spend that much time outside of the palace walls. The King had been angry at me for being alone in the square.” You gave a small smile, shrugging your shoulders.

“You will be with me.” He told you. “We shall make a day of it. There is nothing for me to do tomorrow and I am sure you are free as well.”

“Kit…” It was on the tip of your tongue to refuse. You knew it was the proper thing to do, to keep away from him. You had been too comfortable in his presence. If you allowed yourself to fall any deeper, you knew it would be impossible for you to leave.

Kit sighed. It hurt you to see him so despondent. Just one day. Let him be yours for a day, you tried to convince yourself. Just one day for a lifetime of memories.

“All right.” You agreed with a smile. “ Tomorrow it is. I am sure my Father would be happy to see me after being away from him for a while.”

You spent the rest of the night talking with each other, conversation flowing easily between you. Although there was no mention of that night in the garden, it still hung above your heads. Neither of you acknowledged it. You were fine with talking of other matters, mainly of the welfare of the kingdom since you saw how it plagued him.

When the tea and biscuits—it was Kit who loved the chocolate biscuit since he had eaten mostly those and rarely of the cream ones—were finished, Kit offered to escort you back to your room. He held on to your writing implements as you held on to his arm. The air around the both you was charged with emotion, maybe because you were somehow back with him again as he held your arm, but neither of you moved to make space between yourselves. Instead, you even pressed closer to his side, feeling the heat off of his body as you walked up the palace stairs. The silence was companionable and even as it stretched on, none of you found the need to fill it with unnecessary conversation.

You opened the door to your chambers, hesitating to enter lest the intensity of the moment between you and Kit would dissipate if you did. He returned your writing materials to you, gently caressing your hand when you took it from him. He got a hold of your free hand and laid a soft kiss on your knuckles, lingering, breathing on them as he took his time.

You shivered as you watched. Here was Kit, your husband, refusing to leave because you both knew that these small moments held far more importance than how it truly looked to the spectators.

“Good night, Y/N,” Kit whispered against your knuckles. He rose and watched you with his beautiful cerulean eyes, just looking at you as though you hung the moon that night.

Without another thought, your hand cupped his face and your thumb grazed his cheekbone. You felt him lean to your touch, sighing ever so slightly as you held his face. You went up to your toes and with the gentlest of all actions, you kissed his cheek.

“Good night, Kit.” You breathed against his skin.

You said no more words after that, only pulling away to enter your room. You peeked at him through your closing door, smiling softly and lovingly as you closed it shut.

To say that Kit was excited was an understatement. He was eager to spend the day with you after longing for you for quite some time. He had slept soundly last night, much better than hew had in all the last few months, and when he awoke, he was sure the sun shone just for you and him.

Kit waited by the stables, having had breakfast earlier than the usual and changed into his riding attire. The carriage was ready, as well as the guards Captain Thibault had assigned, and the only person missing was you.

“You seem to be in jollier spirits today, Your Royal Highness,” Captain Thibault commented as he stood beside the prince.

The prince could not stop the smile that was on his face. “Captain, of course I had been this jolly. You are perhaps too occupied with your Abigail to see it.”

Thibault chuckled heartily. “Of course, Your Royal Highness, must be Abigail’s fault,” he relented wryly.

Just then, you emerged from the palace. You seemed refreshed and excited, as eager as he was feeling to get on with the day. When your eyes held his, he saw the brightest smile come to your lips. His hearted gave a start as he remembered the feel of them on his cheek the night before.

“Good morning, Captain Thibault,” you told the man beside him, smiling and giving the man a small smile.

“Good morning, Your Royal Highness,” Thibault greeted as he bowed.

Kit saw you stop at your title. He quickly remedied the situation lest you start panicking. “Good morning, Y/N.”

You turned to him, a relieved smile appearing on your lips. “Good morning, Kit. I hope you had a good sleep?”

“I had,” he nodded. All of my dreams were of you, he wanted to say. You, waving to the citizens of the kingdom as he declared you his queen. You, ruling beside him in the kingdom. You, just being what you were. His wife. His love.

He watched as the sun’s rays kissed your skin, illuminating your lively face and highlighting the apples of your cheeks. Every time, every single time, your beauty took his breath away.

He had not realized he had been looking at you for quite some time until the Captain cleared his throat. “Your Royal Highnesses, let us get going.”

Once boarded, Kit insisted that you sit beside him again in case that you were thrown from your seat like you had been before. You did not seem to mind sitting beside him and he tamped down the little happy jig his heart danced in his chest. You brought along Abigail, which was of no issue to him but he had hoped to spend the time going to your father’s alone with you in conversation. Instead, you kept silent on the way but gave him sideways glances every now and then. He smiled at you every time his eyes caught yours.

“What is your father like?” Kit asked when Abigail had begun to doze off.

You turned to him, lips puckered when you hummed in query. Kit could have sworn he would have kissed you if not for the unwanted company present in the carriage.

“I’m sorry. I did not hear your question.” You said.

“I asked how your father is like. You only spoke of his work as a diplomat. You did not mention much of him outside his work.”

You smiled softly and there was a loving look in your eyes. “My father is the best of all fathers. I am, of course, speaking in bias because he is my family but I also speak in truth. It did not matter to him that he did not have a son. He loves me just as I am.”

“And of your mother?” he inquired. “I don’t remember you mentioning her at all.”

Your voice turned solemn and sad. “My mother died when I was young. I had not much memory of her, but every little thing I remembered of her, it was that she was the kindest, bravest, most beautiful person I had ever known. It is a pity she did not see me grow.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

You only shrugged. “It’s not your doing. In my father’s stories, she was the best there is. He often told me of the things they had done together before they were married. My father was a scholar before he became a diplomat. It was how he met my mother. She was his mentor’s niece.”

You leaned back on your seat, a happy dreamy smile on your lips. “Whenever he talks of her, it’s like she has never left us. I think, for him, she is still alive and just waiting for us every time we come from our travels. He buys her trinkets from every kingdom and when we return, he puts them in a special place in our library.”

Kit saw the change in your emotions, at the way your eyes watered and your lips into a moue of regret. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

You wiped at the tears on your cheeks. You heaved a deep breath, shaking your head as you do so. “I know my father misses my mother very much even though he does not show me. I want him to be happy, to remarry, but he told me he had no need to. That he had had the best love had to offer. Why would he try once more if it wouldn’t be with the same great love as before?”

He watched you intently. He understood what your father meant, knowing that there would never be another kind of love as the one he felt around and with you. He knew that you were the only one made for him. He had fought for you and even if it had been a sort of a losing battle, he knew he had to keep on fighting. You were perfectly made for him as he was for you. It was frustrating that the world did not see it that way.

The carriage rolled to a stop before a beautiful country home. Full trees dotted the sides of the tiny estate. A modest but full garden and a fountain adorned the space between the gates and the main house. Your home was charming; it was not grandiose like Granville or the palace but it had its own character. If anything, it looked very homey and it reminded Kit of you.

Kit descended the carriage first and held out his hand to receive you. There was a giddy look on your face when you stepped out of the coach. He watched you go ahead of your small party and to the door, pulling at the rope excitedly. Kit heard the bell ring somewhere inside the house.

The door opened seconds later, revealing a man advanced in age. Kit saw semblances of you in the man and figured he must be your father.

“Father!” You exclaimed and flung yourself at the man.

The man readily wrapped his arms around you and spun you around, laughing along. Kit felt himself smile at the affectionate display.

“Oh, my little one! I’ve missed you! You did not send word, mon petit! I would have readied the house for your arrival!” The man had put you down and smiled at you.

“I am only here to visit, Father.” You turned to Kit and still smiling, beckoned him closer. “Kit—The prince thought of an excursion because I had missed you terribly.”

Your father had pulled away from you and bowed at your husband. “Your Royal Highness,” he said.

Kit smiled and bowed at your father in respect. “Sir. Thank you for receiving us on short notice. I would have sent word of our arrival but that would defeat the purpose of a surprise.”

“And a surprise indeed,” your father said when Kit stood. “Thank you, Your Royal Highness, for bringing my daughter. Please, come in our humble abode. I shall have the stable hand take care of your horses.”

“I shall ask Cook to prepare our tea and biscuits, Father.” You kissed his cheek and went away, leaving Kit with your father.

“Please, come in, Your Royal Highness.” Your Father stepped aside for the prince to enter.

Kit entered your home and looked around in awe. He did not know what he had expected of your home but one thing he was sure of was that it was not as stuffy or as formal as the palace. You reflected the vivacity and spontaneity of your home.

Your father led him to the sitting room and left the door ajar. Kit saw Thibault stay behind.

“Please, have a seat,” your father said as he moved some items about.

Kit planted himself at the sofa and waited.

“I hope my daughter was no trouble in the palace, Your Royal Highness,” the man said with a jesting smile as he sat on the opposite seat.

Kit smiled. Like you, it was easy to talk to your father. “On the contrary, Sir, it was I who had been causing trouble.”

The man laughed heartily. “Forgive me for speaking freely, but I remembered you running about the palace when you were younger. Quite spirited you were. Now too, I believe.”

“I had since stopped running,” he said with a grin.

The man chuckled. He sobered after a while and regarded Kit with an apologetic look. “Let me apologize for my daughter’s fault. She has told me of the problem she has caused. I hope you are not angry with her.”

Kit shook his head vehemently. “I would never be angry at her. While our circumstances are… difficult, I find myself completely unable to hate her for what had happened. After all, Sir, I am in love with your daughter.”

The man stopped in surprise, perhaps. It worried Kit when it took him a moment to recover. “Your Royal Highness—”

“Please, Sir, call me Kit. I am, after all, your son by your daughter’s marriage to me.”

“Oh. I had not been asked of that before. But then again, my daughter had never been accidentally married to a prince, other than you. And even so, it is improper that I call you as such because you are still the prince.” He mumbled and cleared his throat. “Perhaps I shall refrain from addressing you so I would not call you by your name.”

The prince smiled, amused. “Now, I understand where Y/N gets her stubbornness from.”

“She took after her mother, not I.” The man was back in his good humor once again. “Please, let me thank you once again for bringing my daughter. I had been worried about her. I know she is safe in the palace but a father cannot help but worry especially when his daughter is away from him.”

He nodded.

“How is your father? I trust the King is in good health?”

“His health has been improving. He had become sickly when my mother had passed but recently, he is returning to his usual self.”

“I am sorry to hear of your mother’s passing.”

Kit gave a sad smile, nodding at the man. “As am I but it is the way of all flesh.”

He saw movement from the door and turned. He saw you talk to Thibault amiably, handing him a cup of tea and plate of biscuits and ushering him to one side of the sitting room. You helped your maid bring over the tea set to them and once it was all done, you shooed her to sit beside the captain.

“I took the liberty of having Cook feed the guards, the coachmen, and the footmen.” You announced as you poured the tea. “Father, I hope you behaved yourself while I was away.”

“I am always behaved, mon petit. When had I not been?” The man asked, faking affront.

You tutted, passing him a cup. “I shall not answer that because we will have a long discussion of it and the day would be too short before we reach a conclusion.” You poured another cup and passed it on to Kit.

Kit took it gladly and sipped.

“Tell me of what you had been doing in the palace, mon petit,” your father urged with a soft smile.

Taking your seat beside your husband, you went on to tell your father of your days spent in the palace. Kit listened at your animated retelling, smiling and laughing at some of your anecdotes. He watched as you came to life in your home. While you were lively in the palace—he often regarded you as his personal sunshine—you were extra joyful in the comforts of your home. You were uninhibited in the way you moved about the place.

When you had taken him to meet the staff who had cared for you when you were growing up, he found them looking at you with love and familiarity and not that of fear and politeness. They all had good words and stories about you. It was evident you saw them as family and not hired help.

You then went to the library and showed him of the novelties you had brought home from your travels. There were memories attached to each one of them and he learned of it as he walked around your favorite place in your home.

“And this,” you said as you stood before a portrait of a woman. “This is the little shrine my father made in my mother’s memory.”

He saw the little trinkets that were placed below the portrait. “I take it you talk to her whenever you’re here?”

You nodded. “Not just here. Even at the palace, I talk with her every night. She knows of you and of us. I tell her everything.”

He turned to the painting, seeing how there were resemblances between you and your mother, and bowed. “Madam. Good day.”

“What are you doing?” you asked beside him.

He smiled at you. “I’m talking to your mother.”

“Kit—”

“You talked to mine. I think it fair that I talk with yours.” He took your hand and squeezed it. He began again when he returned to the painting. “Your daughter might have incessantly talked about me with you, madam—”

You chuckled lightly at his statement but did not deny it. He grinned wider as he went on.

“—but allow me to introduce myself to you. My name is Kit. I am your daughter’s husband, as perhaps, you may have already known. I hope you are doing well, wherever you are now.

“Y/N is wonderful, madam. She is good and courageous and kind. If we had not been married, I believe I would still seek her because I know she is my perfect half. There is no one else for me than her. I shall take good care of her, madam. There is no need for you to worry about her.

“Have I mentioned how brilliant she is? She cares for the people. While she is a princess, she does not think herself one and she treats everyone with fairness and respect. I confess I had never seen someone be like her. She is special and I am lucky to have been the one she was accidentally married to. Quite coincidentally, I am in deeply in love with her as well.”

He heard a small gasp come out of you. He smiled and squeezed your hand.

“Oh, Kit,” you whispered his name but it was loud for him to hear clearly. “I am deeply in love with you too.”

He did not know how long he stood there, just staring at your mother’s portrait. He heard the words, dreamt about them countless of times, and now, now that you had said them out loud, he was surprised. Stunned into silence. He could not move his body. He couldn’t even form thoughts in his head. He just stood there stupidly, completely amazed to finally hear those words he so longed to hear.

Then he felt the violent beating of his heart. Heard it thundering in his ears. His body suddenly felt warm, his hand more so and it was only then when he registered what had happened, and that he was still holding your hand firmly in his.

You were deeply in love with him.

As deep as he was with you.

You loved him.

You loved him!

He turned to you, to your love-struck face, and brought your hand to his mouth. Eyes still on you, he turned it over and placed a reverent, adoring kiss on your palm.

“My heart is in your hands, Y/N. Do with it what you will,” he whispered achingly.

Your gaze softened as he put your hand against his cheek and kept it there. You gave him a loving smile as your eyes shone with unshed tears. He felt the pad of your thumb across his cheek.

“I want your heart,” you told him. “I want you.”

He groaned at your admission. He pulled you closer and placed his forehead against yours. “You must know, my princess, that I fought you. I fought for us.”

“Oh, Kit…”

“I did it because I love you.” he said. He pulled away ever so slightly and tipped your chin up to look into your eyes. “I love you, Y/N.”

He caught the tear that ran down your cheek. You gave him a teary smile.

“I love you, Kit. I truly do.” you whispered softly to him.

“I’ll talk to Father when we return to the palace,” he told you, his voice steely with renewed determination. “I will tell him I will have no one else but you. It is only you I want.”

“But—”

“And if he disagrees, then I am left with no choice. We will run away together.”

You caressed his cheek once more, shaking your head slightly. “Oh, Kit. You mustn’t do that to your father. I’m only me.”

“You are the other half of my soul, Y/N. Without you, I am incomplete. I cannot be without you.”

“Kit…”

“If I have to give up the throne, I will.”

“You mustn’t.”

“I will.”

You shook your head. “I cannot ask you to do that because of me. You will always have me, my prince. Come what may,” you vowed.

Your lips were warm and soft against his when he bent down to kiss you. You tasted of honey and lemon, of love and longing. He groaned when you pressed closer to him, closing any distance there was between the two of you. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his around your waist to draw you flat against him. His tongue darted to meet yours when you opened your silken lips and you mewled at the contact. The sound sent a different buzz of excitement down his body.

He kissed you feverishly, ardently, with a fervor he did not know he possessed. Your hand came up his hair and ran it through, mussing it. His hand went up to your braid and pulled at it, giving him access to kiss you more. A deep sound emitted from him throat when you whimpered. You brought out everything in him that he was unaware he had. You were magical and perfect and wonderful. You were his.

He was yours.

He was yours to undo.

Someone cleared their throat.

You broke contact first, pulling away and turning from the sound. Kit cleared his own throat and ran a hand down his hair, taming it. He looked at who had intruded on your heated moment and found Thibault standing by the door.

“Yes, Captain?” Kit called and cleared his throat again. “Is there something you need?”

There was a subtle smile on the Captain’s face. Kit felt himself returning it.

“Your Royal Highnesses, we must leave if we wish to arrive by dinner.” he said.

“Yes,” you said beside him. “Of course.”

“Shall we go say goodbye to your father?” Kit asked.

He saw you compose yourself before heading out of the library. He followed closely behind you, giving Thibault a discreet smile of success when he passed by the man, and went on to say his farewells to your father.

“Father, we must return to the palace,” Kit heard you announce when you entered the sitting room.

Your father stood from his seat and walked over to you, enveloping you in another embrace. “I shall miss you, mon petit. Take good care of yourself.”

“You too, Father. I shall miss you. Do not misbehave or I will ask the housekeeper to write to me whenever you do.” You kissed his cheek and broke away from him, returning to Kit’s side.

Your father chuckled. “I am always behaved, Y/N.”

Kit bowed at the man. “It was an honor to meet you, Sir.”

The prince felt himself being helped up and into a hug. He was surprised by it but he let himself be embraced by the old man, even returning the action.

“Take care of my daughter,” he whispered in the young man’s ear.

“I will,” Kit promised and stepped away.

The return trip was spent in silence again but this time, the air was charged with a different emotion. With Abigail present, he could only do so much. So he took your hand in his and kept them both out of your maid’s eyes and under the folds of your skirt. You looked at him when he did and smiled that beautiful, loving smile. Every so often, he would caress his thumb against your skin and he would feel you do the same.

“Let us go to Father’s,” Kit said as he helped you down the carriage once you arrived. “We must tell him.”

“Now?” you asked. You were yet to retrieve your hand from his.

“I don’t see why not,” he grinned.

He led you to the Great Study, steps hurried as he could not wait any longer to make his plea known. His father may be stubborn but once he saw how madly in love he was with you as you were with him, he knew he wouldn’t deny him anymore of his happiness. His parents were happy. It would be unfair of his father to not wish for the same for him.

The doors to the Great Study flung open at his command and he strode towards his father at the other end of it. The king and the Grand Duke looked up from their parchment in surprise.

“Kit! We have received word.” The king said, rising from his seat.

Kit was single-minded in what he wanted and wasted no time in making it known to them. “Father, there is something I must tell you—"

“The Magistrate has granted your divorce.”

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The Accidental Princess (Part 10)

Prince Kit x Reader

Synopsis: A contract has been found after twenty years, bearing your name and the Prince Kit's... bound in matrimony.

Chapter Synopsis: Kit learns the truth

Word Count: 13.9k words

Warnings: angst, a bit of violence, mentions of poison and murder, period-typical misogyny. if i missed out on something lmk :)

A/N: Hey, everyone! This is just mostly blurb and more of Prince Kit's POV so I hope it's not too boring. Thank you to the people still reading this! There's still one more chapter before the last one so just hang on! As always, your thoughts, comments, suggestions, requests (and reblogs) are very much welcome! Thank you to the people taking their time reviewing each and every chapter! Not beta'd, all mistakes are mine. Enjoy Part 10 of The Accidental Princess!

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Epilogue

Kit always knew there was something about the Grand Duke that did not sit well with him. The man was too pompous for his own good, too proud of achievements he was yet to show, and he always had a menacing air about him. Kit only thought it was the Prussian pride in him but it was something else entirely.

The man killed his mother.

His mother, who the kingdom loved for her benevolence and service, who the kingdom mourned for her sudden passing. His mother did not die because of the heat of the sun. She did not pass for no reason.

She passed because she was killed by a foreigner in her own kingdom.

I have reason to believe Queen Amalie’s death was not accidental.

You suspected. Of all people in the palace, all the people who were present when it had happened, it was you who suspected. You, who did not know his mother, who had only been in the palace because of your accidental marriage to him. You, who started to uncover the events of her death because you were suspicious of tea leaves—of all things!—and had gone missing because of it.

You were missing. All because you saved his father from suffering the same fate his mother had.

His father. The Grand Duke used the hemlock—which you had thought was intended for you—on his father!

His father trusted the man, the very same man who murdered his queen.

And for what? You did not know—you would not know—because only the nobleman can answer that question.

Kit always thought him jealous of his mother’s achievements. It was apparent that she had passed more laws as compared to the man who boasted he had been a royal adviser to one of the princes in his country. The late Queen Amalie passed laws that benefitted the people and they all loved her for it. Whilst the Grand Duke had not but one law that he had passed and it did not bode well to the people of the kingdom . The man’s jealousy was as pernicious as the poison he placed on the queen’s tea.

The prince’s hands fisted your letter. Jealousy, he thought angrily. The man was jealous and he decided that the best way to have dealt with the emotion was to have her killed.

Kit strode towards the door without a word. He had every intention of making the nobleman pay for his actions. He killed his mother, he attempted to murder his father, and he had a hand in your vanishing. The man must be dealt with immediately!

His hand wrapped around the doorknob and pulled it open, only for it to shut close. He glared at his cousin, who was now looking at him with alarmed eyes.

“Cousin! What are you doing?” Louis asked. His hand, which had pushed the door shut, was still against it.

“What does it look like I am doing!” He boomed in anger. “He singlehandedly hurt my family! He must pay for his actions!”

“And how do you plan on doing that?” the duke asked, pushing the prince away from the door. “By killing him?”

“He killed my mother,” he declared angrily. “He must be held accountable for his heinous crimes.”

“This will only alarm the man, Kit,” Louis reasoned. “And think of diplomacy!”

Diplomacy? His cousin was absurd. The nobleman did not think of diplomacy when he deliberately poisoned the queen!

“Damn diplomacy!” the prince spat.

“No. You will not damn diplomacy,” his cousin told him. “We do not want to sour our relationship with Prussia because you decided to kill one of their citizens in your quest for vengeance.”

“But he hurt my family!” Kit exclaimed in disbelief of his cousin.

Louis had never been one to think of diplomacy when he dealt with his matters. Why now? Why was he to play by the rules when the Grand Duke did not.

Louis remained calm, however severe what had happened was. “Yes, he did. And we have proof. We have enough proof to accuse him of such.” When he saw the prince ready to rebut his reason, the duke clamped his hands on his shoulders and shook him in frustration. “Act rational, cousin! I understand that you had been wronged, as have all of us, but if you decide to plunge your sword in his heart, what then? Your anger only clouds your judgement.”

“My judgement is sound.” Kit pushed Louis away from him. “I say he dies.”

“And he will. In due time.”

Kit frowned at his cousin. In due time? He had taken his mother’s life long before her time! Who was Louis to tell when the right time was for the Grand Duke to die? All for diplomacy? Unless Louis was acting with the man…

He looked at the duke sharply, eyes accusatory and angry. “Why are you prolonging the inevitable for the man? Are you in league with him?”

His accusation caught the duke off-guard. He looked at his cousin with confusion as he reeled back. “I beg your pardon?” he lashed in surprise.

“It seems to me you are defending him!”

“And it seems to me you’re being an uncomprehending ass! Are you even hearing yourself, Kit? Me? In league with the man who killed your mother?”

“Yes, so he may bring over his nice that you so love. The same niece who is betrothed to me!” Kit should have seen that his cousin was jealous. He may be older and in possession of one of the oldest and grandest titles in the land but he was not a prince. And he was not betrothed to the Princess Chelina.

Louis glared at the mention of the princess. “Do not—”

“She agreed to be betrothed to me! She has agreed to marry me even before she had even met me! She desires to be queen to a land her uncle has already infiltrated! Her designs are the same as her uncle’s. If he is evil, so is she.” he declared, eyes challenging the glare from the duke.

“Her uncle’s actions are not her own.” He told him, his tone serious and grave. “Do not think her capable of such evil ideas!”

“Are you even thinking, Granville? You—”

“Yes, I am.” Louis ground out viciously. “I am thinking for the greater good of everyone. I demand satisfaction like you for what had happened, but I also demand that you do not question my allegiance because you must know I am loyal to you. Do not accuse me of scheming with the man because I am in love with his niece. If you would even think that I had a hand in killing your mother—my aunt!—then you are sorely mistaken. We grew together, Kit. That in itself would account for my loyalty to you and to your family.”

The duke advanced to his cousin and grabbed him by his coat so they saw eye to eye. “And if I let you act on your anger and kill the Grand Duke, what then? Only he knows where Y/N is. If you kill him, we might never see her ever again. And I know you cannot bear to think of that possibility.”

He pushed the prince away and huffed in frustration.

Louis’s tirade chastised him. Kit shrunk back and walked away from his cousin, only to sit heavily on a chair.

He was right. His anger only clouded his judgement, much like how his pain fogged his memory of your putting lavenders in your letters. If Kit had acted on his anger and killed the nobleman without hesitation, he knew he would be plagued with more answers than ever before and would have accomplished nothing. Diplomacy was only a reason for Louis to stop him from going after the nobleman’s neck. The duke was thinking much clearly than he was.

“Forgive me, cousin. I—I—I didn’t know what came over me.” Kit apologized, frowning at his own words and actions.

The duke heaved a deep, regretful sigh. “I understand your anger. I am angry too. The man did things that are inconceivable and for what?” Louis stood before his cousin, patting him on the shoulder. “You must keep a level head, cousin. It is for the best.”

Kit only nodded. “I just want all things to return as how they were,” he said. “I want my mother’s death avenged, my father to be well, and for Y/N to be found.” He swallowed a painfully thick lump in his throat. “Do you think we are not too late? For Y/N? Do you think he spared her?”

“I do not know,” Louis admitted quietly. “But I can promise you that I will deploy my best men to scour the kingdom for her. They will not stop until they find her… or her body.”

Kit did not like the thought of your corpse returning to him. There were a lot of unsaid words and actions not yet done between the two of you. He could not take it if you were dead. He did not think he would survive without you.

“But for now,” Louis said as Kit turned to him. “We must gather all evidence Y/N has stated in her letter. We need to prove his guilt. We would not want what she had worked so hard for to only be in vain.”

Kit merely nodded. “Yes.”

Louis patted his shoulder. “Good man.” He broke away from his cousin. “What’s our first order of business?”

Kit looked at the crumpled paper in his hand. You stated everything that was needed to indict the Grand Duke. They only need to follow through your orders. You were brilliant in your uncovering of this plot but he would rather you not pay for your life. He would do everything to have you back, including killing the nobleman responsible. If he lingered on his heartbreak and pain, he would not accomplish anything.

He rose from his seat, his resolve renewed. “We must talk to Captain Thibault about this so he may assist us. You send your men a missive while I tell the captain of what had happened. We will convene in my father’s chambers.”

He left his cousin’s room with purposeful strides, heading to his father. He instructed the footmen to send for Thibault and to not let the Grand Duke near his father’s chambers. Inside, the physician met him with no news of improvement on his father’s condition, only assuring him that he had expected the king to take an extended sleep after such an ordeal. Kit nodded and asked the man if your—and his—suspicions were correct.

“My findings, Your Royal Highness?” the doctor asked, unsure.

Kit gave a tight nod.

The physician opened his brown notebook and peered at what he had written during the night.

“Let me preface, Your Royal Highness, that there was no need for me to alarm you by having not told you of my findings last night. The worst was over and the king was saved.” He cleared his throat and read on. “The food contents the king had vomited were one and the same with the food that had been served during dinner. There is, however, the presence of an emetic that I had taken note of. The reason for the use of the emetic was to induce vomiting when one is poisoned with hemlock.”

But Kit was unfazed with the information since you had already discovered of it.

“And how did he get poisoned with the hemlock?” he asked instead.

The physician only regarded the prince with an odd look, at Kit’s being unbothered with the news, before he schooled his features. “The vegetable dish, Your Royal Highness. I had come down to the kitchens to inspect the food and found hemlock within the pantry. It is easily mistaken for parsnip because of how similar the roots are in appearance but it is in the stem that I had differentiated it with the poisonous herb. The king, your father, partook what he thought was parsnip and was immediately poisoned due to the large portion he had ingested. I had already disposed of the hemlock so there would be no other victims.”

Kit neared his father and watched the subtle rise and fall of his chest. His father had been near death if it weren’t for your quick thinking. The hemlock you thought was for you had been used on his father and the emetic you had bought saved his life.

Clearly, the Grand Duke wanted to rid of his father the way he did with his mother. Although, he did not know why the man would do such a thing. The king had given him a position among his council: a seat in his assembly upon the queen’s passing and the position’s vacancy. He even heeded his advice, despite the fact that since the arrival of the Grand Duke, the kingdom had fared poorer than before. He was already in a position of power.

What more did he want? Kit thought to himself.

He turned to the physician and said: “I need your trust, doctor. But before that, I need to know if you have no ill intention towards my father.”

“I do not wish the king ill, Your Royal Highness.” He told him earnestly.

Kit nodded. “I entrust my father’s life to you. We had not been fortunate to save my mother’s life and so, we shall take utmost care to save my father’s. What I will say must be kept in strict confidence. You shall only confide in the Captain of the Guards, the Duke of Granville, and I. Do you understand my words, sir?"

"Yes, Your Royal Highness. I am your humble servant.”

“Then know that you cannot trust the Grand Duke. You are to stay with my father until I tell you to leave. If you are given orders that did not directly come from me or the Duke of Granville or the Captain, then you are free to disregard them. Ours are the only orders you will heed.”

When the physician agreed, Kit set his plan into motion. He made a small office for himself near the door, barricading access to his father with the long table he asked to be brought over. Louis had returned some time after writing two missives: one to his men in Granville to search for you and the other to Prince Frederick of Prussia on behalf of Kit, asking for his presence so they may deal with matters regarding the Grand Duke’s punishment. Kit thanked him for his quick thinking.

Captain Thibault arrived a few moments after Louis. He looked concernedly at the prince when he saw the determined look upon his face. “What is the matter, Your Royal Highness?”

Kit passed the letter to the captain and said nothing more.

“Your mother was poisoned?” Thibault asked after he read through your letter.

“As was my father,” Kit said gravely. “Captain, I need your men to guard this room while my cousin and I gather the pieces of evidence Y/N had written down. I do not trust anyone else to do it but ourselves at the moment.”

Louis turned to his cousin, brows quirked as he recalled their earlier conversation. “Kit, you were insistent that I called for Y/N last night. How did you come about that?”

“A footman told her you summoned her to the library.” Kit answered.

“If I had called for Y/N, I would have sent my valet to collect her. Or myself since it is never a tedious task to come for my friend.” The duke turned to the Captain. “I fear we have a traitor amongst our midst, Captain.”

Kit was angered at Louis’s revelation. He turned to the physician and remembered the man’s finding of the poisonous root crop within the pantry. “I do not think the kitchen staff are unknowledgeable of which crops are poisonous and which are not. Have someone investigate the kitchens as well. The physician had seen hemlock in the pantry. I would assume it is not placed there deliberately.” Kit ordered the Captain. “Keep them in the dungeons so we may deal with them later.”

Thibault bowed slightly at the prince’s words. “While I understand your need for secrecy at a time like this, what you are attempting is dangerous.” He said when he handed the letter back to Kit. “The Grand Duke will surely hear of this.”

“Then we must take extra care when we gather the evidence. This cannot be known outside of this circle.” Kit said.

The Captain nodded. “While I believe Her Royal—Miss Y/N’s words to be true, we must go about this without bias. Her word is only as good as that in the face of the law. There is no weight to it until we find the first proof.”

“Of course,” Kit nodded. “Can we trust Abigail, Captain?”

“Yes, Your Royal Highness.”

“Then have her look for the canister of tea leaves in her room. Tell her not to trust anyone for the task. She must be the one to do it and should only directly answer to any of us.”

Thibault bowed. Kit turned to his cousin.

“Find the book Y/N talks of. It should be in the library, along with my mother’s other botany and herbology books. Find a way for the Grand Duke to not be suspicious of you.”

“What will you do?” Louis asked as he readied himself.

“I will have a talk with the Princess Chelina. If she has an idea of Y/N’s whereabouts, then we may have need of her.”

“Do not accuse—”

Kit brought a hand up to stop the duke’s berating. “I will not accuse her of anything she is not,” the prince promised. “But if she so much as says she is a part of her uncle’s schemes, then I am sorry, cousin.”

Louis nodded grimly. “I understand. Do not hurt her.”

At Kit’s parting words, he and the captain left for their respective tasks. Kit gave instructions once more to the physician and the footmen stationed outside of his father’s room before he headed for the Princess of Zaragoza.

He found her in the sitting room with her maid. She had been playing her guitar and while she looked distraught at what had happened the night before, she looked oblivious of the revelations of the morning.

“Your Royal Highness,” Chelina said as she rose from her seat to curtsy.

“Princess,” he said as he gave her a bow. He dismissed her maid and closed the door, locking it from the rest of the palace. “There is a grave matter I wish to discuss with you.”

“Of course.” She looked confused as she sat demurely on her seat. “How may I help you?”

Kit cleared his throat and paced the room as he considered how he was to go about the matter without alarming her. Having no other choice—and no time to waste—he asked her directly. “Why did you agree to this betrothal?”

The only indication of her surprise was the miniscule raise of her brow. “Because it is what is expected of me,” she said plainly.

“Surely I am not the only prince and kingdom who has offered for your hand.” Kit said as he stood before her. “Why did you choose me?”

She gave him a smile of amusement as she arranged herself in her seat. “I am flattered at your assumption that there had been others but there was only you. I had not been made aware of any other offers other than that of yours and your kingdom’s.”

He raised his brow at that. Only him? he thought to himself. She would have a multitude of offers just for her being Princess of Zaragoza alone.

“And who made this known to you?” he asked, although he had an inkling of who it was.

“My uncle, the Grand Duke.”

Of course. “What did he say the reason was for our betrothal?”

She looked at the prince peculiarly. “You had not asked me of this before. Is there a reason you are asking me now?"

"I would appreciate if you answer my question, Princess,” was all Kit said.

Her brow raised further but she replied to his query. “Very well. He said that your kingdom is bountiful and rich and it needed a royal from a family who knew what to do with its resources.”

He knew his kingdom was rich in resources but in the past year, there was a steep decline in the yield as compared to those of the years before. He had been privy to the kingdom’s accounts and he saw how the crops made for less than they had in the previous years. Taxes had been raised, much to the resentment of the citizens, and yet it had done nothing for the kingdom. Their other products had not been faring well and it was this that his father wanted to sell the mines.

The mines.

His mother was gifted, upon her marriage to his father, the mountain ridge that held the biggest mine in the kingdom. They had surveyed the mines, appraised its value, and found them to be worth more than all of the current products combined.

If Kit married Chelina, she would be gifted the mines, as was the tradition. And she could do as she pleased with them. She could sell them, with her uncle’s advise.

The Grand Duke had been pressuring his father to do the very thing. What was he to gain with them?

Unless he was to divert the money of its sale into his own account.

Kit had always been curious of the man’s sudden rise to more riches. He had said he merely brought over his money and treasures from Prussia into the kingdom. If he were to pocket the money from the sale of the mines, it would make him nearly equal in riches to the king.

It was a plausible thought. It did not seem beyond the man for him to do it. After all, he had murdered the queen.

“Did he tell you of our kingdom’s custom for its new queen?” Kit asked Chelina suddenly.

She shook her head. “No. He has told me nothing more than that. Other than, of course, that you are a kind prince and that I shall want nothing more.”

“Then you have no idea of the gift you would receive when you are to become queen?”

She shook her head once more.

“You will be receiving lands. Those lands, you may do as you wish with them. They shall be under your power and jurisdiction.” Kit said. “These will include the ridges and the islands away from the mainland. Any product from there shall be under your direction. I will have no say in them.”

“Am I to believe these lands are valuable?”

“Yes.” He nodded at the bracelet on her wrist, similar in style as the one you had but with a different stone. “All the materials in your bracelet are taken from those mines. The gold comes from a now-abandoned shaft. The stone cannot be found anywhere else.”

Chelina touched the stone gingerly, looking down at it.

“Your uncle had been insistent that we sell those mines.” Kit told her. “Once we are married, you would have immediate control of them. Your uncle may impose his position as my father’s adviser to persuade you into selling them.”

The prince saw her look at him pointedly. “Your Royal Highness, I may not show it but I am confused as to your inquiry. I would appreciate a direct approach to your line of questioning.”

He took a deep breath before he pinned her with a grave look. “Are you scheming with your uncle?”

Her brows raised. “Scheming?” she asked, startled. “What for?”

She appeared to be genuinely surprised at his question.

“Do you truly not know what your uncle had done?” he asked as he peered into her face.

“I do not. Like I had said before, Your Royal Highness, I only tolerate my uncle. I do not know of his plans or anything at all for you to think I would be scheming with him.”

But Kit was still skeptical. She was, after all, kin to the Grand Duke, despite what she had said. The same Prussian blood ran in her veins.

“Are you telling me the truth?” he asked her rather bluntly.

She quirked her brows regally and Kit swore he saw a bit of the Zaragozan fire dance in her eyes. However, it did not frighten him. She may be a princess but her uncle had done a great offense against the kingdom. If there were people who should be afraid, it would be the nobleman and her, if he proved that she was in league with him.

“I would not lie to you.” She told him honestly.

“Can I trust you?”

“That would depend on you, do you not think, Your Royal Highness?” she asked as she rose. “Your questions are odd. Is this about your father?”

He watched her guardedly. “It has something to do with my father but more to do with your uncle.”

She stopped just before him, looking into his handsome face. “My uncle seems to be a problem for you,” she noted.

“Your uncle murdered my mother.”

She stepped back. In fear, Kit noted as he watched her royal façade break. He had not seen her composure crumble before but his statement seemed to have shaken the princess to her very core.

Her eyes widened in fright, and she brought a hand up to her mouth to cover her gasp.

“I beg your pardon?” she whispered shakily.

Kit cleared his throat, putting a halt at the onslaught of anger that came over him. “He poisoned my mother with plants. He has done the same with my father although he was not successful.” Kit paused before adding: “And I fear he has done something to my wife.”

“Your wife?” she echoed weakly before realization dawned on her. “Miss Y/N.”

He nodded seriously.

She frowned, utter confusion on her face. “If you are already married, why is my uncle planning to marry me to you?” she asked.

“I do not know but I have an inkling it had something to do with my mother’s sudden death.”

Her brows drew together as she looked at him. “Your Royal Highness, I—I didn’t know these were the circumstances of our betrothal.”

“Neither did I.” He cleared his throat. “I must tell you, Your Royal Highness, that the punishment for his deeds is death. There is no other penalty for something as violent as murder.”

She nodded mutely, dazedly. “His crimes are unpardonable. I couldn’t imagine any other… discipline fitting for what he had done.”

He let her ponder on his words for a while before he continued on the matter he was there for. “Y/N is missing. Do you know where she might be?”

She denied any knowledge of that, saying to him that she had not been anywhere else other than her room for breakfast and the sitting room for playing her guitar.

“Then I need your help, Princess.”

She nodded her head eagerly at him. “Si. Yes, of course. Anything you ask.”

“I need you to know where your uncle had kept Y/N. I fear he has something to do with her vanishing because she had saved my father’s life. Your questions must not make your uncle suspicious of you or else you shall be in peril.”

“Yes, yes. I will do my best to know where she is. I can give you my maid to search for her.” She offered.

“No, you must have her with you. I do not trust the Grand Duke’s actions even if he is your uncle.” Kit said. “When you have learnt of where she is, we convene in my father’s chambers. Your uncle is not allowed there. We shall be safe to talk of this matter inside.”

Kit turned to go but Chelina halted his steps.

“How is Louis? Does he know his friend is gone?” she asked him as he was about to open the door.

“Yes. He is determined to have her back, as am I.” He looked at her. “You need not worry for him, Princess. My cousin is very careful. He worries for you.”

She gave a small, soft smile at the mention of Louis before she looked at him remorsefully. “I am terribly sorry, Your Royal Highness. Had I known it was your mother’s death that sparked a betrothal between us, I would not have agreed.”

“He takes us for fools.” Kit said. “But not anymore. We shall put a stop to his nefarious ways.”

It was dark.

And silent.

You opened your eyes but you could not see a thing in the darkness . You had been used to the darkness, had been their constant companion in the nights when you traveled at sea. It often calmed you, along with the gentle rocking of the boat, but this darkness felt different. It was pitch-dark with no blanket of stars to comfort you.

You blinked but everything within your eyesight did not change. You blinked once more in an attempt to summon the light but it was all the same. You even brought your hands to your eyes to confirm that you did have opened it but it did not change the darkness you were enveloped in. You did not know if the darkness was blessed because your head still throbbed from where the Grand Duke pounced at you.

The Grand Duke!

You were not able to tell Kit of your findings because it was not Louis who had summoned for you in the library. Oh, how close you were to telling the prince of what you had discovered. The malicious man thwarted your plans as though he knew of it.

And he had. He knew you were on to him because you had asked for the emetic to save the king’s life. And now, you feared you’ve lost to the nobleman once more. That man must be stopped at all costs. You were determined to do it, despite your current predicament of being stuck in… wherever you were.

You groaned as you moved. You felt the uneven ground against your body, feeling shards of rocks and gravel against your exposed skin. You moved slowly to a sitting position, scraping your cheek and your hands against the jagged edges of rock as you pressed down to hoist yourself to your hands and knees.

Even with the renewed position, your vision remained the same. You swiped blindly at the dark space before you as you crawled. The ground felt sharp against your knees and it hurt you but you pushed on. The pain against your legs and palm were bearable. The throbbing in your head was not. You were nauseous from your movements.

Your fingers grazed on more jagged edges that were now before you instead of under you. You swiped your entire hand and felt a wall made from the same rocks as those you were kneeling on. You pressed your other palm against it and with all your strength, you pulled yourself until you were standing.

You groaned in pain and clutched the side of your body. It did not bleed but it felt much too tender for your liking, perhaps bruised from how you were dropped. You lost your footing at the pain of a broken ankle and accidentally kicked a piece of stone, sending it somewhere in the darkness. It was only then when you were made aware that your other foot had lost its shoe. The stones felt sharp against your bear sole, in addition to a possible bone fracture. The stone did not make much of an echo when you sent it flying and you realized wherever you were was small and confining, perhaps just enough space for your body.

Your head gave another painful throb and you slowly dropped to the rocky floor, cradling your head in your hands. There was wetness against the side of your head, on the same place where the nobleman’s fist made contact. You gingerly touched it, wincing as you did and brought your wet fingers against your nose. You sniffed and grimaced before tasting it, confirming your suspicion that the Grand Duke drew blood when he bludgeoned you with his fist.

Another drop of wetness came down on your cheek, this time different from the blood that was on your temples. It came from above you and it did not smell nor tasted of blood. Instead, it tasted of nothing. Water.

You turned your head skyward to see a small sliver of light, so high up above you, that you were positive it had been where the droplet of water had come down from. The light was hazy and gray and the water that dripped from it increased in speed and number

Rain, you thought with a panic.

In a matter of hours, wherever you were would be flooded if such heavy rains persisted. You would drown if you did not leave.

“H-h-help…” You rasped weakly. You scrambled painfully to your feet, and in your rush, your head spun. You staggered backward, back bumping against the rough wall, sharp shards puncturing the delicate cloth of your dress. Wherever the Grand Duke had dumped you, he did it with every intention to leave you to die.

"Help!” You tried once again. Your voice was rough and terrible in your throat but it did not matter to you. You would rather you lose your voice begging to be helped than lose your life. You needed to be alive to tell Kit what you had found about the Grand Duke and stop him. You needed to be alive to ensure the Grand Duke did not kill your husband as well.

“HELP! HELP ME PLEASE!”

From above, the storm intensified and drowned all your pleas.

Captain Thibault and Louis were conversing with the physician when Kit arrived in the study.

“I cannot find the book, Kit,” Louis said. “I’ve searched through all of your mother’s books on botany and herbology and plant medicine but the title Y/N mentioned was not there.”

The prince frowned. He had helped you return the book to the shelves a few weeks ago. He may not have remembered the creasing on the spine but he knew the title. His mother had been meaning to read the book before her death.

“Have you looked everywhere?” Kit asked his cousin.

“I was only confined in that section of the library. The Grand Duke was inside as well. He was reading on laws for your upcoming marriage.”

“He could have taken it,” he thought out loud. “I remember Y/N returning that book only to get more of the same subject from my mother’s collection. It couldn’t have been taken by anyone else other than him.”

“That would only be conjecture. We cannot condemn the man for lack of the evidence we were to get against him.” Thibault said.

Kit sighed. “Yes, you’re right. Has Abigail found the canister?”

Thibault produced the jar. “She found it under all of the logs used for kindling in her room.”

Louis donned his gloves and took the jar from the Captain, shaking its contents onto his palm. The purple flower petal was stark against the dull greens of the tea leaves.

“She immediately told the Housekeeper about this when she first found it,” the duke said as he stared at the unassuming petal on his palm. “It was why she had offered to label the tea leaves because she knew this petal did not belong in this jar.”

Kit looked at the culprit for his mother’s death and angered rose from deep within him. He was yet to know why the Grand Duke had killed his mother but whatever reason it was, he was firmly determined on having the man dead for his crimes.

“This is what killed your mother?” Captain Thibault asked.

Kit gave a grim nod.

“And your father was poisoned with the same tea? How would he be poisoned with the tea if this was in Miss Y/N’s room?”

“My father was poisoned with hemlock disguised as parsnip.” Kit said. He frowned at what the captain had speculated. His father had fared well since drinking your blend of tea. Before that, he had been consuming a blend suggested by the Grand Duke and he did indeed look sickly during those times.

Of course, he would be poisoning my father in the same fashion as he had poisoned my mother, he thought dourly.

But his father had been drinking that tea for quite a while and he had not exhibited any delirium like his mother. It couldn’t have been the very tea he drank because the captain was right, you had kept this canister in your chambers.

“Doctor,” Kit called for the physician. “Were you the physician who examined my mother on her deathbed?”

“No, Your Royal Highness. That physician had since retired.” the man replied.

“Do you know where he is now?”

“Yes, Your Royal Highness.” The man gave them the address. “I believe he retired because he came upon a great fortune. He would not tell where he had gotten it but he had urged me to take the position as the royal physician.”

Louis frowned. “Do you think it could be hush money?” The duke appeared to have the same idea as his cousin.

Kit’s face was set when he looked at him. “We need to visit the physician to confirm our suspicions. But first, we must go to the apothecary to see the ledger.”

“I will have the carriage ready,” Thibault said as he turned to leave.

“No. We will go by horse.” Kit ordered.

Thunder clapped from the outside, as if telling them that the storm was yet to pass.

“By horse? But there’s a storm!” Louis exclaimed.

“Horses are faster. We cannot have a broken wheel to slow us down.” Kit insisted. He nodded at the Captain as if to tell him to go.

Louis returned the tea leaves in the jar and discarded his gloves in the fire. He sighed regretfully as he watched it burn. “What a waste of perfectly good kid gloves. I bought those in Castile.”

Kit ignored his cousin, returning his attention to the physician once more. “My father told me he had been faring well for quite some time now. When have you noticed that change in him?”

“In the recent weeks, Your Royal Highness. His skin is less cool to the touch and his pulse beats at a regular pace, unlike before.”

The prince nodded. “Are these symptoms of foxglove poisoning?”

The man shook his head. “It would need to be accompanied by delirium and he should have told me of halos of the color yellow in his sight. The king never complained to me of those.”

He pulled out your letter again and read through it. “Could he be poisoned with another plant? Perhaps Aconitum napellus? Monkshood, is it?”

The man’s brow raised, then his eyes widened. “I believe so, Your Royal Highness, and we are lucky he is alive. There could be no other explanation for the numbness he felt in his mouth or the other symptoms I had seen in him. Although I did not think much of it because he had gotten better before his symptoms had gotten worse. Forgive me for not recognizing it earlier.”

Kit nodded. “How recent was it?”

The man sifted through his notebook. “Nearly three weeks, Your Royal Highness.”

You had been in the palace for about the same time as his father had been feeling better. Whether it had been you intention or not, you had cured his father from the Grand Duke’s poisoning simply by changing his blend of tea.

Kit thanked the doctor and left him with more instructions before he and Louis headed for the stables. The storm still raged on outside of the palace and it did not look like it would pass soon. The roads would be thick and slick with mud. The travel to the square would take twice longer because of the rains.

A loud clap of thunder sounded from the outside and Kit worried for your safety since you had not been found in the palace. He feared every passing moment you were not with him. The storms always raged on in the kingdom, sometimes going on for days with no stopping. They were notorious for the strength and devastation they wrought, from the flooded paddies to the destroyed houses. It flooded every dip and divot they could fill and washed anything that stood in its way.

He hoped the nobleman kept you inside the palace. If you had been caught in the torrential downpour with no shelter, Kit could not imagine how drenched and cold you would be. One more second not finding you was one second closer to your death.

He shuddered at the idea and shunned it from his mind. No. He would not think you dead. You were alive. You had to be alive. You were to be his princess, his queen.

“Your Royal Highness,” Kit heard the Grand Duke call.

The prince’s stomach sunk in nervousness. He and his cousin had taken extra care in their actions. Was the Grand Duke to stop them from finding more evidence against him? Was he to stop them from finding you? But then, Kit was not at fault and therefore should not have been fearful. It was the Grand Duke and he should be very afraid of what was to come for him once Kit gathered all there was to indict him.

He cleared his throat before turning to the man. He put on an air of royal arrogance as he addressed him. “Grand Duke.”

“There are some issues that require your father’s attention. I had tried going to his chambers but the guards would not allow me entrance.” The man advanced towards him, holding in his hands business papers not unlike the ones Kit had left on his desk.

“My father is resting, Your Grace.”

“Yes, but these papers—”

“Sir, if they do not need immediate attention, I will see to them when I return. Do not disturb my father, even with matters of the state.” Kit said, his tone hardy. “Leave them on my desk if you cannot deal with those matters.”

He bowed. Kit noticed that it was stiff and almost against his will. “Your Royal Highness.”

“Perchance, have you seen Miss Y/N? I haven’t seen her yet.” Louis suddenly asked.

Kit wanted to curse at his cousin for his question. It was a direct way of knowing where you were but he did not appreciate the frank way it was asked, especially since they were looking for you without his knowledge.

Instead of talking, he fisted his hand and hid it from the nobleman’s view. He gave the Grand Duke a long, level look, watching for any signs on the man’s face that would betray his knowing of your whereabouts.

The nobleman only quirked a brow at the duke’s address. He looked apathetic to the question.

“I do not know, Your Grace. I had not seen her since dinner and I have no need to.” He turned to Kit, imploring at him to heed his words. “Her actions towards the king must not go unpunished.” He said rather pompously.

“Her actions?” Kit repeated, voice quiet but angry. “She saved my father’s life.”

“She shoved her hand down his throat. To touch the king without his permission is a sin.”

Kit stepped towards the nobleman and not one more, for Louis held him back. “I believe my father would pardon her action once he awakes.” He hissed between his teeth.

“It would not do well for her to be free, Your Royal Highness.” The Grand Duke went on. “She has committed a crime and she must be punished accordingly.”

A barrage of accusations sailed through Kit’s mind but he did not voice any of them. They were still in pursuit of all of the evidence you had written of—still in pursuit of you—and if the Grand Duke were to know of them, it would have made all your efforts futile. So Kit held back the condemnation he wished to hurl at the man but he did not withhold the vitriol that dripped from his tone.

“I assure you, Your Grace, that all crimes committed by any man will not go unpunished.” He gave a stern look at the nobleman.

That seemed to satisfy the man because he bowed again, this time without his prior reluctance. “Very good, Your Royal Highness.”

Kit did not miss the patronizing tone in the man’s words but he did not comment on that. Instead, he went on ahead to the stables. In there, he found Thibault awaiting them with their horses prepared.

Thibault passed them coats bearing the insignia of the kingdom. “These will disguise you from the Grand Duke and any of his accomplices. I had ordered two guards to accompany you on your trip. You do not have to worry of where their loyalties lie; they are loyal to the crown and kingdom. I’ve also tasked Abigail in unmasking any other servant involved, in addition to our own investigation.”

Louis donned the coat and mounted his horse. “Let us hope you will have them in your custody when we return, Captain.”

Kit only gave his friend a stiff nod and kicked his heel against the horse’s flank, sending the horse galloping. He rode in the storm silently but with a determination unlike anything he had experienced before .

His goal for the moment was singular: talk to the apothecary and ask for his ledger. Once it had been procured, he would then go and find the last physician and confirm their suspicion of his involvement with the queen’s death. Surely, no one would just come to be with great fortune. And so sudden a luck.

The Grand Duke had established himself to be a rich man. His apartments were in the palace and since his arrival, he had steadily decorated it with more and more opulence. The gaudy display was at odds with the rest of the palace and was offending to the peasants who were suffering the moment he assumed his position as the king’s advisor. If the man had money to decorate his apartments, then he surely had enough to spare to pay hush money to his accomplices.

The storm grew in intensity as he neared the square. There were no merchants dotting the streets and the other stores had closed their doors. If the apothecary was not open, Kit would not know how to find the man.

He looked at the closed stores, frowning as he recalled where the apothecary had been. You had written that it was situated opposite of the Magistrate and while Kit had been sure he was at the right place, he was yet to see the sign for the chemist. The downpour did not help with the visibility.

Kit rode on down the aisle of shops. There was a light that flickered weakly through the window, illuminating the signage of the apothecary. Kit nodded to his cousin and dismounted, heading in. Bells jingled when Kit opened the door to the apothecary’s small store and he was assaulted with various scents of medicinal herbs upon his entrance.

“It smells like my mother’s perfume,” Louis murmured beside his cousin. “I always thought some of her perfumes smelt noxious. Perhaps she has gotten it from apothecaries and not at a perfumery.”

Kit gave his cousin a small smile in agreement of his father’s sister’s perfume.

“Gentlemen, good day,” called the elderly man behind the table. Before him were concoctions of all sorts, including a glass jar of foxglove petals that looked similar to the ones from his mother’s tea tin. “How may I help you?”

Kit removed his hat and passed it to one of the guards. The chemist immediately bowed in respect at the sight of the prince.

“Your Royal Highness. How may I be of service to you?” the man asked.

“Sir, I have a need of your ledger. There are records we wish to see.” Kit told him.

“Of course, Your Royal Highness.” The chemist moved to the other side of his store, the prince following along. “Is there a particular record you are in search for?”

“May we look for it ourselves, sir?” Louis suggested as he neared the counter. “There are three records we wish to see and we would not want to take up your time in doing so.”

“Of course, Your Grace. How else may I be of assistance to you?” The man pushed the leatherbound book to Louis and looked at the cousins expectantly.

“There is a need for you to keep this a secret, sir. It is a rather delicate issue we are looking at. I would appreciate your permission to allow the guards to take charge of your front and back doors so as to not allow the people to come in or out.” The duke told the man, looking at him pointedly.

There was a panicked look upon the chemist’s face, which Louis promptly assured with: “We are not keeping you hostage, sir,” he stated. “But we insist on your participation on the matter.”

Kit looked over at his cousin, a brow raised and his mouth quirked in amusement. His cousin rarely used a commanding tone when dealing with matters, seeing as he was always charismatic, but when he did use it, people knew he tolerated no insolence from them.

The man nodded at the cousins. “Yes, Your Grace. Of course.”

Kit took out your letter from his pocket. “She told us to look for the May of last year. It should say he purchased some form of service.”

Louis flipped to the year past, looking for the entry you had told them of. True enough, there was the Grand Duke’s name, in the month you had told them when he had a need for the service of the apothecary.

“We have it,” Louis said. He pointed at the entry to Kit, who then looked up from the letter and to the book. “It does say service.”

Kit turned to the chemist, who now leaned over to see the entry for himself. “Sir, do you remember the kind of service the Grand Duke had purchased?”

The man frowned as the thought, drawing the book to him and ran his hand on the entry. “It has been more than a year since this entry. I cannot recall correctly what kind they were but he had asked me to dry herbs for him.”

“Could it be foxglove?” The duke asked. “What is it, cousin? Di—Digi—?”

“Digitalis purpurea?” Kit supplied.

The man raised a whitened brow in recollection. “Why, yes. I believe it is that and monkshood as well. I found it unusual that he asked me to dry monkshood but I did not question my customers. Their business is theirs alone.”

“Does it take long for you to do this kind of service?” Louis asked as his eyes drifted on the letter in Kit’s hands.

“There were a number of storms and rains that had passed by the kingdom when the Grand Duke had asked of that. It had taken me nearly a month to accomplish the task because of it. The humidity affects the drying process.”

The prince’s brow was raised as he looked at his cousin. “The Grand Duke asked for service at the end of May. If it took a month, it would have been ready by the first week of July, with enough time for him to plan my mother’s death.” He told his cousin in a hushed voice.

Louis nodded. “The man gave your mother those to plant in the gardens, did he not? Perhaps he had taken some and brought them here for the apothecary to dry.”

It was a plausible idea that Kit wanted to greatly believe.

“Forgive me, but did you say Y/N?” the man asked them cautiously.

Kit looked at the chemist sharply. “Yes. Have you seen her?” he asked.

His heart gave a start in his chest. The apothecary’s simple inquiry gave hope in the prince. You were missing because of this investigation. Perhaps the man had seen you pass by the shop. Kit would have accepted anything at all the man would have said of where you were.

But unfortunately, and much to Kit’s disappointment, the man replied that he had only seen you before. “I remember her only because she had asked of antidotes for various kinds of poisoning. I even commented that she had been around too many people who were poisoned.”

Louis gave a small sarcastic snort at the coincidence of the man’s words. “I suppose you’re not wrong,” he murmured.

“What did she ask of?” Kit questioned.

“She wanted to know how to counteract the effects of Digitalis on the body. She bought a vial of belladonna since that is what is used by physicians for patients poisoned by foxglove.”

“Was that all?”

“I also told her there is no cure for monkshood so there was nothing for me to sell her for that. I believe she bought an emetic of zinc for hemlock poisoning.”

Kit nodded. “Yes, she did.”

“She also asked of the services I offer. I told her that I not only prepare antidotes but I also dry plants and herbs. She seemed particularly interested in the poisonous herbs and their antidotes.”

Louis nodded. “You were helpful in that regard, sir. Your answers to her questions have helped us greatly.”

The prince returned to your letter and read on the second date you had told them. “June of this year, if you please, cousin.”

The duke flipped forward to the current year and looked for the month of June. When he had, he looked for the name and, like before, he found the entry you had written of. Beside the Grand Duke’s name was a record of his purchase for Digitalis.

“Digitalis, like she had said.” Louis said albeit no surprise in his tone.

Kit told him of the last of the Grand Duke’s purchases. “You would find hers as well, for the emetics.”

And sure enough, Louis found both records. He looked at his cousin and sighed. “The pieces of evidence are conclusive, cousin. Even without the herbology book, this would be enough to accuse the Grand Duke of his crimes. The hemlock alone would convince the Magistrate that what had happened to your father was because of his doing.”

Kit exhaled loudly, keeping your letter in his pocket. “I am not satisfied, cousin. I think we would need more. We need the former royal physician to give a testimony.”

“Against the man who gave him his riches?” Louis asked, skeptical. “That doctor was loyal to the Grand Duke. I doubt he would even say anything now.”

“He would start talking if it would reduce his sentence. He is, after all, an accomplice to my mother’s murder. His penalty is already death. But if he gives a testimony against the Grand Duke, then he can haggle for imprisonment, albeit a long one.”

The duke still looked unsure. “Would that convince him?”

“If he knows what is moral and just, it should.”

Louis gave him a wry look, still unconvinced. “I doubt the man would suddenly develop a conscience after receiving his ill-gotten wealth.”

“Well, we have to try, don’t we?” Kit snarled. He immediately apologized, sighing as he did. “Forgive me. I am trying to be optimistic even if everything seems bleak to me.”

The duke patted his cousin on the shoulder. “Forgive me too, cousin. I am just preparing you for the worst, even though it pains me to think of its possibility.”

Kit nodded at his cousin before turning to the chemist. The man had been helpful but he had also sold to the Grand Duke the materials he needed to commit his crime. While he did not look dangerous, Kit knew better than to let the man go free. After all, he was vital to the investigation.

“Sir, there are questions I need to ask you and you must answer them as truthful as you can.” Kit commanded in a tone that brook no argument from the man.

The apothecary nodded readily. “Of course, Your Royal Highness.”

“Have you any idea of where the Grand Duke used his purchases?”

“No, Your Royal Highness. I was suspicious of him but I did not ask questions. It did not go well for me when I had done it to my other customers.”

“Has he confided in you of any of his plans?”

“No, Your Royal Highness.”

“And he has paid you money for your silence about his purchases?”

“No, Your Royal Highness.”

Kit nodded when he saw that the man spoke the truth and saw his cousin nod in agreement at him.

“Good. Come with us. There is one more place we are to go before we return to the palace.” Kit said.

Kit rode ahead with his cousin to the address the current royal physician had given, the ledger safely kept in his horse’s satchel. The storm had started once more, this time more violently than before. Thunder clapped and lightning flashed across the sky, lighting it as though it was a clear summer day. He hoped against hope his cousin’s men had found you, or that at least you were away from the devastating storm.

They arrived at the place, finding the house looking inconspicuous for someone who seemed to have been paid quite a boon for their treacherous act. Kit dismounted his horse and banged heavily against the door. Louis stayed behind his cousin, hand on the hilt of the sword on his side in the instance that the man was violent.

The door swung open, revealing a pudgy man who somehow resembled the Grand Duke. “Yes? What do you want?” He spat, eyeing the prince with disdain.

“Were you the former royal physician?” Kit asked. He was yet to remove his hat and coat, finding it better not to reveal himself as the prince lest the man run at the sight of him.

“Who asked?”

“I did,” Kit said.

“Listen here, boy, I did not call for Royal Guards. I have no need of you nor will I answer you. You best be on your way before you catch a cold in the rain.” He moved to close the door.

Kit held out a hand against it, effectively stopping the wooden door. He knew he would be met with resistance but he did not expect the man to behave the same way as the Grand Duke would. Of course, people with the same morals would band together, Kit thought to himself wryly.

He pushed on the door, opening it some more until he entered the threshold of the man’s place. While it had looked unassuming on the outside, the inside was far grander than it was out. New-looking furnishings, shiny fixtures, and a bearskin rug adorned the place. It looked too opulent for a man who had been a mere royal physician.

“While I appreciate your concern,” Kit said in a hard tone as he barged in the man’s house. “I would much appreciate it if you had answered my question.”

He gave a short mocking chuckle, the sound akin to someone choking and laughing at the same time. “I will not answer a question I don’t want to answer!”

“I do not need you to want it. I am commanding you to.” Kit said in his most princely of tones.

The man laughed once more. “You?” He said with a chortle. “Commanding me? Who are you, the prince? Remember your station, boy.” The man shook his head in disbelief, laughing as he did so.

Kit took off his hat, revealing himself to the former physician. It effectively shut the man, who then bowed promptly.

“Y-Your Royal Highness!” He exclaimed in surprise, maintaining his half-body bow. “F-Forgive me! I did not know it was you under the Royal Guard’s uniform!”

Kit chose to ignore the man’s unmeant apologies, asking him his previous question instead. “Are you the former royal physician?”

He rose on shaking knees. His face had turned into an unsightly shade of red and he did not look into the prince’s eyes as he answered: “Yes, Your Royal Highness. I was before the Grand Duke discharged—”

“Discharged? Or were you paid a hefty sum by the man to cover his murder of the queen?” Louis asked as he stood beside his cousin.

The man bristled. “I-I do not know what—” Sweat trickled down the side of his forehead. His eyes moved from left to right, flighty, looking anywhere but the prince and the duke.

“Take care of your next words, sir, or they may be your last.” Kit threatened. “Now, you will cooperate and answer our questions with as much honesty as you can.”

“Your Royal Highness—”

“I did not give you permission to question my demands!” Kit boomed at the man.

The former physician swallowed and nodded tightly. “Y-Yes, Your Royal Highness,” he stammered in fear.

“Did the Grand Duke pay you to prevent you from speaking of what you had found in the queen?” Kit asked.

The man trembled as he looked at the prince. Then, he shook his head a little too wildly.

The gall of him! Kit thought with anger. The truth was already clear to them, clear as the facts that you had presented in your letter. It was more than serendipitous for him to come to great fortune after the event of the queen’s death. He was paid for it and Kit would resort to anything just to prove his intuition correct.

And so, he lied. All for the sake of finding out the truth.

“Deny it all you want, sir, but the Grand Duke has spoken,” Kit spat through his teeth.

He saw his cousin turn to him sharply. Kit only hardened his jaw and the duke nodded, affirming his involvement in Kit’s lies.

“He has told us he had paid you to keep silent of his actions towards the queen.” Kit continued, walking to the man. “He has told us of your involvement in deliberately not treating my mother’s being poisoned with foxglove.”

The former physician looked at Kit with fear in his eyes. “Your Royal Highness—” The man started to sweat profusely.

“You cannot deny it anymore. The Grand Duke named you his co-conspirator.” Louis said. “Why did you do it?”

“Was the money he paid you worth the pain you brought to my father and I and the kingdom?” Kit asked, crowding over the man as he advanced towards him. “Was it worth the silverware on your table or the fur on your shoulders? Was it worth the life you had taken from us? Is it going to be worth yours?”

The man dropped on his knees, head to Kit’s feet as he groveled. “Your Royal Highness, forgive me! Forgive me! The Grand Duke promised me riches and I was blinded by them!”

Kit’s jaw hardened and he refused to look at the man who had just confessed his involvement in his mother’s death.

“Forgive me, Your Royal Highness! I should have spoken when I had learned what had happened to the queen!” The man cried piteously.

But Kit did not take pity. Instead, he hauled the man to his feet and passed him to the guards who had arrived. The man did not fight his arrest; he only kept his head down, embarrassed and scared of what the prince might do to him.

“We will bring him with us.” Kit said. “Do not let him out of your sight.”

Kit rode back to the palace, more determined now that he had hefty evidence against the nobleman. With the man’s presence, the Grand Duke would be properly convicted of his crimes. If Thibault had found the footman and the kitchen staff involved in adding the hemlock to his father’s meal, the nobleman would be sure to pay for his crimes.

He and his cousin entered the king’s chambers, finding the princess talking with the Captain of the guards. His father was still asleep but the doctor had told him that he had awoke while Kit was away and had asked for water to drink, before returning to sleep. There were no remaining symptoms of hemlock poisoning in him, the physician said, which made Kit heave out a sigh of relief.

“We have the ledger and the apothecary with us,” Kit said to Thibault. “As well as the former royal physician who had looked at my mother before she died.”

Louis looked up from his missive. “My men are still searching for her, cousin. They had just finished in the nearby villages. I’ve instructed them to go farther.”

Kit nodded his thanks at his cousin. “Had there been any progress?” he asked of the princess.

“My uncle denies any knowledge on where she is. I fear he is becoming suspicious of my questions so I stopped my inquiries.” Chelina said as her eyes swept to the duke beside him. She gave a small gasp at his state. “You will catch your death in your drenched clothes, Louis. Sit by the fire and I will have my maid bring you soup to warm you.”

Kit saw the soft smile on his cousin’s face and a pang of heartache and jealousy speared through him. While he found every single, strong evidence against the Grand Duke, he was yet to find you.

“I have the footman in my custody and the Cook as well. Abigail has unearthed one of the maids to be the Grand Duke’s paramour and we have detained her. We are unsure of her involvement but we will find out.”

“Good. You can include the former royal physician. He had confessed that the Grand Duke had paid him a large sum for his silence.” The prince said. “Keep the other accomplices away from one another. I do not want them interacting should they plot against us.”

Thibault bowed. “All that is left is the Grand Duke.”

He nodded grimly. “Yes. I will deal with him.”

“I will have guards come with you when you confront the Grand Duke—”

“No. Have them look for Y/N. My cousin’s men may be capable but they are few in numbers. Send them posthaste.”

“Of course.” Thibault bowed once again before he left to deliver his orders.

“Your Royal Highness,” he heard Chelina call for him. He turned to the princess, watched as she smiled tentatively at the sight of him.

“You may call me Kit, Princess,” he told her.

“Then you may call me Chelina.” She gestured to his cousin, who now sat by the warmth of the fire, cradling a bowl of soup. “You must get out of your drenched clothes as well. There is soup and bread to fill your stomach.”

“I cannot waste time—”

“You are not wasting your time if you are to rest. You cannot confront my uncle if you are sickly and hungry. I suggest you heed my advice and eat with your cousin by the fireplace. I shall have your valet fetch your dry clothes.”

She looked very determined in her quest for him to take rest. He nodded singularly and sat opposite his cousin. Louis heartily slurped at his soup, having already changed out of his wet clothes.

“Trust that we will find her, cousin.” Louis said consolingly.

“I know we will,” Kit said fiercely. “I just want to find her alive. I do not think I can bear to survive without her."

The duke patted his cousin’s knee. “And she will be. Trust, Kit. Trust in her.”

He nodded. Chelina passed him a bowl of soup and a piece of bread before taking her place on the seat beside his cousin. Kit could only watch the beautiful picture they made. The tragedy brought them together, however ironic it was. He knew his cousin to be a devoted sort of man; a complete contrast to his reputation of being a sort of a lecher, and he saw that in the way he regarded the Princess Chelina. Like Kit, he knew his cousin would give up his life for the one he loved.

“Have some soup, cousin. It will warm your bones.” Louis urged.

Kit brought the spoon to his lips absently, not at all hungry for anything. His mind was still busy with thoughts of the whole kingdom. While you were his priority, he had a duty as the prince—and now de facto king while his father was recuperating—of the kingdom. He had businesses to oversee, new relationships to forge with every trade, and villages and communities to have repaired after the devastation the storm had wrought. His father and his mother had been more than efficient in their duties, despite the staggering amount they were faced with daily. While he had shared his father’s load since the death of his mother, he was still amazed at the number of issues they dealt with.

But his father was asleep and the man the king considered to be his adviser was useless. Kit only had himself to trust with the job of running the kingdom. He had been taught how to be a king since he had been a child. Everything, all that he had learned and was still learning, all of it came down to the very moment he was now at. This was his future as the king. This was who he was born to be.

“Will you detain my uncle?” Chelina asked after a while.

Kit looked from his still-full bowl and nodded. “I must. I cannot have him wreaking havoc in the palace.”

She nodded in understanding. “There is very little I can help you with him but I shall do what I can to assist you.”

“Chelina—” His cousin started to protest.

She only touched his cheek, smiling tenderly at him. “Louis, mi corazon, I refuse to sit down and watch when I know I can help. He is my uncle. I am one of the people who he would think twice to hurt.”

“He will still think twice and hurt.” Louis replied rather petulantly. “I do not think it beyond him to do so.”

“And that will be his mistake because you would be there to fight him before he does something to me.” She let go of his face and returned her attention to Kit. “He will not think me suspicious if I do not ask about Miss Y/N’s whereabouts.”

“It will be dangerous for you,” Kit said, to which his cousin readily agreed. “I would not want to put you in harm’s way.”

“He trusts me enough not to question my involvement with you. He thinks me stupid for not knowing his motive for our marriage.” Chelina said. “I will not be in any harm if I do not show him that I have knowledge of what he has done.”

“Louis,” the prince implored. He would not want his cousin to lose the love of his life as well.

“I do not think she will back down however we ask her to,” Louis replied. “We will not let you near him but we shall ask for your help when we need it.”

“Agreed.” Kit nodded.

The princess quirked a brow at the cousins. “You do not think me capable—”

“We know you are but I would not want my cousin to suffer what I am suffering now.” The prince told her. “I cannot fathom the despair he would feel if the Grand Duke did something to you.”

He watched the fire quietly, noting of the way they looked at him after his words. He spoke the truth. Louis, however jolly he was, felt deeply and the despair he would feel at the loss of the Princess Chelina was incomprehensible. He only worried for his cousin, in the same way that his cousin worried for him.

He could not find it in himself to finish his soup and so he set it aside. He stood, heading for the door when his cousin called for his attention.

“Cousin. You did not finish your soup.” Louis called. “Where are you going?”

“To the Grand Duke.” He went out of his father’s chambers, ignoring the protests from his cousin and his betrothed.

He walked purposefully to the study, thoughts only on the satisfaction it would bring him to have the man in the dungeons for his sins. The man ought to rot in jail if he would deny his sins. He ought to not see the light of day for all that he has done. Kit swore to himself and to everyone the man had wronged that he would do anything in his power to make the Grand Duke suffer.

He barged in the Great Study, barreling towards the nobleman with the intent of scaring him. Louis was not present to school him on propriety. He could do as he pleased with the man who had put him through this great suffering.

The Grand Duke was surprised at his entrance and Kit took that moment to haul the man to his feet by the lapels of his coat. He had never stood this close to the man before and now that he had, he saw all the evil and malice in his eyes. The nobleman was momentarily startled but his face transformed into that of bored anticipation. This was a man who feared and regretted nothing. He was evil personified.

Kit thought he had never been so repulsed by someone so despicable.

“Ah,” he breathed with an arrogant smirk. “When my niece asked me for that commoner’s whereabouts, I had my suspicions of you finding out the truth. I did not realize it would take you a while to do so.”

Kit’s knuckles whitened at how hard he fisted the man’s coat. The anger that erupted from him was unlike anything he had ever felt before.

“Why did you kill my mother!” he asked the man, shouting as much as he can so the palace could hear of what he had done. “Why did you do it!”

The Grand Duke took one look at the prince’s face before he let out a loud, offending laugh.

He’s deluded! Kit thought angrily and shook him hard, enough for the man’s head to loll side to side. Still, he did not quell his maniacal laughter.

“Why did you do it!” he asked once again. “Answer me, damn you!”

“Because I can, boy! Because she was standing in my way!” The Grand Duke spat at the prince’s face. There was a crazed gleam in his eyes as he looked at the young man before him. “She stood in the riches that I wanted to for myself!”

“Riches? All you wanted were riches and you killed my mother for it?” Kit asked in disbelief. He had expected this motive from man but to hear him admit it only hurt him.

“What else could I want from your small, pathetic kingdom?” He sneered. “You thought yourself glorious but you are anything but. You are only a small kingdom amongst great states. You have riches you do not deserve—”

“And you do?” The prince spat. “You think yourself entitled to the riches of a country you do not belong in? I thought you ambitious before but now, I think you stupid.”

That offended the man. Kit saw the change in the gleam in the Grand Duke’s eyes at his words, at the way his hands almost found purchase on the prince’s neck if he had not been thrown back to his seat. He drew his sword out and against the nobleman’s neck, effectively stopping him from any further attacks.

“Move and I will plunge this through you without a second thought,” Kit threatened.

“You do not have it in you, boy,” he said with a scoff.

Kit pierced the nobleman’s skin, letting a droplet of blood trickle from where he punctured. “Do not take my threats lightly, sir. You forget I had been in war for years.”

He only looked impressed. There was no fear in the man at all. “Then I am mistaken.”

Kit did not withdraw his sword.

“Tell me,” the Grand Duke said nonchalantly, as if they were conversing over tea. “How did you find out about your mother’s murder? Surely you could not have done it on your own. It had been a year and it is only now that you are threatening me.”

“Y/N investigated on you when she found foxglove in my mother’s tea leaves.” Kit told him and pushed the sword deeper into the man’s neck.

“Ah. She told me she had no idea of it.” He watched the prince closely, a smirk appearing on his face. “She is smart, is she not? Would have made a worthy queen to this pitiful, little kingdom of yours, if only I hadn’t brought her away.” He goaded the prince.

A muscle jumped in Kit’s jaw at the man’s admission of knowing about your disappearance.

More blood trickled from the man’s neck at the pressure Kit exerted with his sword. “Where is she? Where is my wife?” he demanded.

“You think I would make it easy for you to find her?” The Grand Duke asked and chuckled evilly. “Oh, Your Royal Highness, it is like you do not know me at all.” He grinned maniacally.

Kit would have slashed his sword across the Grand Duke’s neck if it weren’t for his cousin, who stopped him before he brought the sword down.

“Stop—Stop! Kit!” Louis said as he embraced his cousin to prevent him from mutilating the Grand Duke. Kit did not fight him but he seethed as he watched the nobleman regard him with a challenging look upon his face.

Guards grabbed at the nobleman and hoisted him from his seat. They kept his hands in cuffs before they pulled him away from the prince.

“You must make haste, Your Royal Highness. She has been gone for nearly a day,” the Grand Duke called out. Even as he was captured, his tone held no regret. He enjoyed this, the bastard.

“In this storm, she would not survive.” He looked over his shoulder with wicked grin. “That is, if she’s not dead already.”

The rains were unrelenting above you.

The little hole where the Grand Duke had left you in had grown colder from the winds that swirled with the storm. You shivered to keep yourself warm. The small sliver of light had vanished, in its place was the bleakness of the day—or was it night? You could not tell what time it was, or how long you had been left there. All you were aware of was how cold you had become and that the waters were rising.

The sliver had become a waterspout and from it flowed the rainwater into your hole. It filled the entirety of the floor, the water nearly halfway to your calves now. With the way the rain above you continued to pour, you knew you needed to escape the hole before the waters engulf you.

You groped around you blindly, swiping your hands before you as you made sense of the place. You had deduced it was cylindrical in shape, with enough space for you to move at least five paces from one jagged wall to another. It was tall enough, considering the light you had seen earlier came from a very small hole. It seemed to you that it was nearly as tall as the mast in one of the ships you had travelled in. You hoped it was shorter.

You heard a loud crack of thunder from above. In your frenzied state of mind, you rushed to the other side and slammed your body against more jagged stones. You cried out in pain and collapsed on the rocky floor, hitting your knees against them and splashing water around you. You let out another loud howl as you clutched your knee that you were sure was bleeding from the impact. The pain from your whole left leg was like fire, from your thighs where it collided against the stone wall to your knee which had slammed against the jagged floor down to your ankle, which had grown twice it size since you had awoken. You had started to become feverish as well from being drenched in the rain.

It was useless to call out for help. The winds were too strong and the rain too loud for anyone to hear any of your cries. You had to help yourself. The only way for you to escape was up, through the small hole where the water flowed.

With determination, you rose to your feet and felt around the wall for any jutting rock you could clutch on to. You did the same with your other hand and your better foot and when you found stones that could handle your weight, you hoisted yourself up, mindful of the aches in your body. You needed all the strength you could gather. You managed slowly in your weakened state—having only had soup for dinner and nothing else—taking only one step at a time. You never had reason to scale a wall, as it was improper for ladies to do so. But you needed to survive. You could dash impropriety for all you care. What mattered was returning to Kit and stopping the Grand Duke from terrorizing the kingdom.

It was difficult for you to scale the wall with your broken ankle and in your drenched dress, but you were somehow able to rise from the ground. The storm raged on above you and another cracking sound echoed in your hole. You shut your eyes tight, breathing deeply so your fear and pain would ebb away. You shivered from the cold and the terror but you held strong. You had to get out. You needed to get out.

You took slow steps upward, trying every stone your hand touched to see if it would carry your weight. Your body protested at the added weight of the water. Your limbs shook with every effort.

You looked up to where the water had poured and with every power you had about you, you pushed yourself upwards. You had no idea how far up you had come but you trudged on with all of your strength.

The sky broke and light filled your little hole. The strike of lightning blinded you, forcing you to take your hands off of the rocks to cover your eyes. You felt yourself fall backwards to the floor beneath you.

A dull but sickening thud, along with a splash, sounded upon your impact to the ground.

So this is Love 🩵💛.

This is the only Disney live action film that worked.

My shoe 👠

Cinderella 2 🩵💛

Cinderella wedding 🩵💛