At precisely three-fifteen in the morning on April twenty-seventh, 1985, His Royal Highness Crown Prince Richard John was born, with a head of dark curls, wide-open blue eyes, and a yowl to raise the dead.
Within fifteen minutes, his birth was announced and proclaimed up and down the streets, with the general public in a frenzy unlike any other.
The young prince made his first public appearance three days later, amidst flashing cameras and sweaty, excited citizens. Even then, mere days old, the prince was quite the social butterfly, blinking quite enthusiastically. His mother and father, Lord John and Princess Maryanne, were quite enthralled with their young son, and it seemed that the royal family was primed for happiness for years to come.
On the flipside, exactly two years and three days later, when the young prince and his cousin were wreaking havoc on both the palace and their parents' sleep habits, signora Katarina Olivieae Reneè Isabella Chiaro came into this world in Venice, Italy, to a French mother, an Italian father, and scandal abounding. Her father, a prominent Italian business man, made a habit of sneaking in foreign women to entertain, and this series of affairs lead to a collection of bastard children, the most famous of which's mother was none other than Katarina's aunt. The product of this affair was a finicky, fussy baby girl called Angélique Mauvais, who was born a few months before Katarina, a cover-up to last the ages, and the final decline of Katarina's parent's marriage.
Katarina, despite the circumstances surrounding her birth, was a happy and healthy child, with a shock of red hair and piercing green eyes. She was raised by her mother and her paternal grandmother in south France, coming into little contact with anyone besides her mother and grandmother, her older sister, Louise, and the villagers. She came to be affectionately called Kori, due to the fact that her true name was a mouthful, and her initials were easier to say, and by the time she was three it was all she'd respond to.
Three months, eleven days, and thirty-eight minutes before the Crown Prince's birth, his cousin, Duke Wallace Rudolph Weston the Third of Pemberton was born to the Princess Maryanne's brother, Prince Bartholomew, and his wife, Lady Iris. He was a happy, cheerful baby; he hardly ever cried, hardly ever spit up or threw his toys, and he had an immediate connection with his parents and his younger cousin the Crown Prince.
He grew up in a small cottage in East Yorkshire, near enough to the palace to see his cousin but far enough away that he and his siblings had a certain degree of privacy.
When he was sixteen, puberty stuck, and he went from a long-legged, skin-kneed, freckle-faced boy to a red-haired Romeo with a deep voice and tan skin. His parents, in an effort to reduce any teenage drama –the Duke was a sweet boy, but he was carefree and reckless, and it wouldn't take much for him to make a serious mistake- arranged an engagement to Linda Park, an heiress and the daughter of some of his mother's school chums.
He was seventeen, and suddenly, his dreams of hot escapades with beautiful women, of whirlwind romance and beautiful life, they were all dashed before his eyes, and his opinions weren't even asked.
Prince Bart and Lady Iris were not terrible parents, and after all, it wasn't the 1800s; they offered him time to get to know Linda, time to make his mind up, but the decision was final, and it changed the way he looked at his parents and his entire lifestyle.
He was seventeen, disillusioned, unhappy, and his parents simply refused to understand.
Angélique Mauvais was even less lucky.
When the scandal surrounding her parentage was finally revealed, her mother took her and fled to what seemed like a far off land: Los Angeles, California. There, the child lived a hand-to-mouth existence, terribly far from that of her father or half-sisters. She learned hardness, learned to depend on no one but herself, and when her mother overdosed three weeks shy of her seventeenth birthday, she learned what it is to truly be alone.
She and her mother had never been supremely close, but a mother is a mother, and Angélique Mauvais owed her mother one thing in particular: her mother had introduced her to music and had scrimped to pay for CDs and vinyl records and piano books. But still, moments of care from her mother and the occasional good moment didn't change the ultimate truth: she lived a much harder life than anyone else in her family, and she never forgot it.
She was done with that life, though; done with feeling like she wasn't good enough for her father or her family in Italy or her half siblings in France. She refused to allow herself to care about things like that.
By the time she was eighteen, she'd given up on being Angélique Mauvais, the tragic little French-Italian girl, and she'd become Jinx, the hardcore Los Angeles beauty with a suitcase full of CDs and a need for revenge.
So, at this point, it's possible you're asking yourself what exactly these four people have to do with one another.
Well, in order to get to that, a bit of explanation is in order.
When Crown Prince Richard was exactly eleven and a half, both of his parents were killed in a hit-and-run car accident. He was quickly adopted by his aunt and uncle, Prince Bruce and Duchess Selina, and was eagerly loved by all three of his uncles and each of their wives. He was close friends with his cousin, the Duke of Pemberton, Wallace or Wally, as he was called, and his mother's friend's son, a pleasant young boy by the name of Garfield Marcus Logann.
Still, as time passed, the Crown Prince grew inwardly cold and angry, resentful of his position and his life, though outwardly he maintained a care-free persona. His parent's death had stuck him hard and left him fiercely protective of his family and fiercely distrustful of anyone else.
By the time he was sixteen, his adoptive parents had two young children of their own, seven-month-old twins, Damian and Alexei, and his adoptive father, the second-oldest prince, had been placed as regent in the wake of his father's death.
At eighteen, the Crown Prince was resentful, moody, angry, arrogant, and tactless about showing his displeasure, and his adoptive parents had a daughter called Kathryn-Ann.
At twenty-four, the Crown Prince was brooding, intense, fiercely protective, and devastatingly handsome, with thick black curls that hung in his violently blue eyes. His adoptive parents had another son, Nicolai. He'd gotten infinitely better at hiding his inner thoughts, and for all the world, he was exactly what a Crown Prince ought to be.
Until he got the news that Damian and Alexei, his dear little brothers, were to be sent to a public kindergarten.
Katarina Oliveae Reneè Isabella Chiaro, -or Kori, as she was more often called- left her small south France village at the age of eighteen and only looked back once, to wave good-bye to her sweet seven-year-old half brother, Ryann, and his friends Luca and André. She was headed for Oxford, from which she graduated at the age of twenty-two with a Masters in Education.
She met, while rushing to her finals, a depressing girl called Raven Roth, whom she bought a small flat with, and once she had her degree, she obtained a job teaching young children at St. Anthony's Learning Academy, a public school down her street.
She loved her job, she loved the children she taught, she loved her depressing flatmate, and she loved her life.
Until an arrogant, rude Crown Prince waltzed into her classroom.
As for Wallace Rudolph Weston, Duke of Pemberton, well, he was the Crown Prince's council and conscience. He alone was able to see beyond the façade to the man inside, and he alone was able to communicate with that man.
Duke Wally was an amiable, humor-driven man, no different than any other twenty-four year old man, only, he was seventh in line for the throne and betrothed to a singularly unpleasant woman who he absolutely refused to be near. His obvious blatant dislike was irregular, to say the least, and, unfortunately, prompted Linda to try and win him over.
Because of this, he lord spent most of his time in hiding from Lady Park, and it seemed to him, what better place to hide from a woman who hates music than a music shop?
So, Duke Wallace Rudolph Weston the Third of Pemberton spent most of his days hiding out at Les Notes Malchanceux, a music shop recently opened by an American, and wishing fervently for a new love life.
And for the most part, that was okay with him.
Until he met the owner of Les Notes Malchanceux.
Jinx was actually somewhat happy with her life in Los Angeles. It didn't mean she never thought about the half-siblings she'd only heard about, the stories of the rolling green land in Italy and the dreams of café's in France; it simply meant she'd just stopped caring, stopped letting it take hold of her.
But, no matter how many times she re-dyed her hair –it needed to be re-done once every two months or the bubble-gum pink would wash out- or how many tattoos she covered her back with, it didn't change the fact that her mother was dead and the only family she had left lay across the ocean.
So she packed her bags and booked a flight to Italy.
What she found out was this: her father was in China at the moment, sealing a business deal, but in two month's time, he'd be in London to check in on his daughter and an investment deal.
She owed the man nothing; he'd given her up, he'd never tried to check in on her or to come see her; he couldn't even bring himself to send a child support check, for godsakes.
But still, he was her father. And who knew? Maybe she'd run into other spoiled, arrogant Chiaros she could torment.
So, at twenty-two, after a lifetime of the streets, Jinx Chiaro bought a small shop with a flat over it and sold CDs and vinyl records.
And that worked for her.
Until she spilled coffee all over a very handsome red-head.