"Caitlin, you need to marry," her mother Carla says. "You can not run a kingdom otherwise, and your father…" she continues but swiftly trails off.
Princess Caitlin sighs, because she knew all of this - she's been through this conversation many times in the last few months. Since her father, the King of Central Kingdom, had grown ill, he had increasingly become less and less fit to be King, meaning Caitlin would have to uptake the throne sooner than they anticipated.
"But I have not found a man who I love, and Father," she begins but also trails off; it's very hard for either of them to talk about him.
"I know your father said that you could marry for love, but that was a different time and under different circumstances. Caitlin, if you don't find someone worth marrying, then our throne will be taken away from us."
The young princess eyes sting as she recalls her young childhood, trapezing in the Castle's fields, daydreaming about her future husband. He'd ride a horse up the hill and through the flowers, laying a delicate kiss on her lips upon his arrival that would burst her heart with all of its affection. He'd be dashingly handsome, but smart and kind to her people. He would be funny and charming and he would love her just as much as she loved him.
"What about Sir Ronald Raymond?" Carla then suggests, looking at her knowingly. It isn't the first time she has suggested the knight.
Caitlin wrings her hands together. "He's handsome and brave…" she says, not knowing what else to say. Ronald Raymond had been a huge asset to protecting their kingdom the last couple years and she knew her mother favored him because he was a good leader and was well liked by all the kingdom. On paper, he could be everything Caitlin dreamt of, but something in her heart told her that while she could love Sir Ronald, she would never be in love with him.
"Why don't I set up a meeting?" Carla asks.
The princess mutely nods, slowly accepting her fate.
Her mother lays a comforting hand on her arm, knowing the sacrifice her daughter was making for their kingdom. "It won't be so bad, Caitlin," she says. "Just look at how well your father and I's marriage worked out."
Emotion welled up in her throat, but she swallows it down. "Yeah," she croaks out, forcing a smile on her face, only to immediately give up the facade once her mother leaves the room, a single tear falling from her eye as she does.
All she wants to do is run. So she does. She runs out of her room, out of the castle, and all the way to the stables. There she takes a horse, bidding the workers there a greeting. It's not like she's not allowed to use it, because she is, but no one thinks she will go far, because she never does. But today, she has other plans. Today she is going farther than the safety of her castle. If she's going to be confined in a marriage she does not wish to be in, she doesn't want to be confined to these stone walls any longer.
She mounts the horse, taking her usual path, only to slip out a side entrance that no one seems to know about, long hidden by the bushes and overgrown marsh life. She guides the horse down one path she remembers taking as a child with her father when he had errands to run in the village. Sure enough, an hour later, the view of the village, with all of its shops and houses and people come into view. Caitlin smiles.
Her horse quietly trods into the little town, stopping by a small water bed to get something to drink. Caitlin takes that as her cue to slide off the horse and tie him up to the fence nearby. She lightly strokes the horse. "I'll be back soon, boy," she tells it before joining the mass of people crowding the streets, becoming one with them.
As she walks down the main street, her mind remembers back with her visits with her father, the certains stores becoming familiar, the chatter between the people riveting. It is then that she gets a whiff of something that smells rather delicious. She turns to her right to notice a small bakery shop. She pats the pocket of her shawl, happy to feel that she may have enough money to buy something to eat.
She enters the store, the air a bit thick from the oven being fired up, but it's nothing she can't handle. If anything, it feels cozy, like the air is offering her a hug.
"Be with you in one moment," she hears a voice from the back holler.
She nods to herself, her eyes wandering to the desserts and pastries out on display.
"Sorry about that," the man from earlier says, rubbing his hands on his apron of whatever he had been making in the back. His eyes lift upwards to look at her, the striking green color of them making her breath still for a moment. "Um, hi," he says breathily, but quickly shakes his head. "Uh, what can I get for you, miss?"
It's then that she notices the flour caked in his dark hair and she does something she hasn't done in so long: she giggles.
His brows furrow as he frowns.
"I'm sorry," she immediately apologizes. "I'm not trying to be rude. It's just you have flour in your hair."
"Oh," he lets out with a chuckle, running a hand through his short, brown locks, ridding some of the white powder. "Being a baker can sometimes be a messy job," he explains with a sheepish shrug, his face spreading into a grin with ease, and it leaves her just as speechless as his eyes did.
She giggles again, something that seems to cause his grin to widen. "I have to admit, everything looks extremely delicious, and whatever you're currently baking smells absolutely incredible."
He looks over his shoulder. "I'm currently making good ole fashioned chocolate chip cookies. My specialty."
"Well, if it's your specialty, then I will have to give them a try. One please."
His eyes twinkle as he looks at her with that same wide smile still plastered across his face. "Of course." He heads to the back for a moment, a few clangs of pans are heard. When he comes back out, he hands her a small bag with the cookie inside of it. "Here you go."
She takes the bag gracefully, leaving her money on the counter. "Thank you, Mr…?"
"Allen," he supplies. "But please, call me Barry."
"Barry," she repeats, letting the name sink into her mind, wanting to remember it. She smiles. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Barry, and thank you for the cookie."
He nods, but when she turns to leave, he calls out, "Wait," before jogging out from behind the counter. "Um," he starts, rubbing the back of his neck, "I didn't get your name. Miss…?"
She clams up for a moment. Royalty should never be out and about without security. Not to say Barry would harm her, but if news got out that she was here and vulnerable, others in the village who held a grudge to the crown might try something.
"You can just call me Caitlin," she tells him.
He smiles, happy with that bit of information. "Are you new in town? I haven't seen you before, because I think I would've remembered you if I had," he tells her, making Caitlin blush as his eyes scanned her face, but to her surprise his gaze didn't wander further south - he is a pure gentleman.
"Just passing through."
"Oh." He frowns. "So, I won't see you again?"
"I do not think so," she tells her new acquaintance with a heavy heart. By now, her security and mother probably realized she was missing, and she'd be in plenty of trouble once she arrived back. "But thank you again, Barry."
"Anytime…" she hears him say as she walks out the door.
.
When she arrives back home, her guardsmen are all over the grounds searching for her with her mother at the entrance, pacing back and forth.
"Caitlin!" she exclaims in relief once she sees her daughter's form. She runs down the staircase, meeting her only child at the bottom. "Caitlin! Where have you been? You had us worried sick. We thought you might have been abducted!"
Caitlin jumps off her horse. "I just went for a little ride. I needed some fresh air."
"You left the safe areas we told you to ride in."
"I wanted a change in scenery, mother. I didn't go that far," she lies.
Her mother looks at her sternly, but she senses that she understands. "You have to be careful, Caitlin. Especially now."
"I am. I was."
Her eyes are still shooting needles. "Clean up," she says, noticing there was dirt all over her skirt and shawl.
Caitlin dips her head before walking around her mother to head up into her bedroom, deciding to do exactly what her mother requested to not make anymore waves. But as she goes to discard her shawl, she feels the bakery's bag weighing it down. She smiles to herself as she takes the bag out. She opens it, a waft of the chocolate springing up to her nose. Curiously, she takes a bite, damning her supper, and it has to be the best cookie she's ever tasted - it's definitely his speciality for a reason.
As if it hadn't been on her mind the whole ride back, as she nibbles on the cookie, she thinks of the baker's green eyes and magnetic smile. Her heart flutters, but she tries to not think about that.
ONE WEEK LATER
"Caitlin," her mother addresses her at breakfast. "Sir Ronald will be joining us for supper tonight."
The princess' eyes go wide as their dishes. "That is very last notice," she mentions, her heart pounding at the idea of having to see this man her mother wishes her to marry. It only makes her feel like the deal is set in stone and that she is trapped with no say.
Her mother tersively nods. "I may have known for a couple days, but I didn't want you changing your mind. This meeting needs to happen, Caitlin. And now it would be too late to cancel."
Caitlin has many words she wishes she could scream and holler at her mother, but she refuses. Instead, she stands from her seat. "I need air," she says before walking away from the table.
"Caitlin!" her mother yells, so she pauses. She turns to Carla who looks worn and defeated and so much older than her actual age. "Don't be late. Please."
Again, it seems like her mother understands her inner turmoil, maybe more than she gives her credit for. Once upon a time, her mother was in the similar shoes as she was - having to be arraigned to be married to upkeep the kingdom. The princess merely nods that she hears her before she heads to the stables, mounts a horse, and takes off.
It's not until she sees the village over the horizon does she realize where her addled mind subconsciously took her. And when she finally approaches the village some time later, it's like Caitlin never left it. It's like a painting, everything and everyone exactly where they were before - nothing out of place.
As she walks down the streets, she takes a few extra moments to look at what each vendor is selling, trying to delay the inevitable of going back home before she needs to. And when she finally rounds towards the epicenter of the village, the main street with everyone bumbling around, again the aroma of something delicious reaches her nose. She's aware that she should probably continue her trek through the village, but the mouthwatering smell coupled with the thought of looking into the baker's pristine green eyes once again wins out in the end as she opens the bakery's door.
As she steps in, she immediately sees the baker setting cupcakes down on the counter. Her heart thunders in her ears, fluttering like crazy. The door makes a noise as it closes behind her and his eyes flicker upwards. At first he stares, his face impassive, before it splits into a surprised grin. "Caitlin?"
She lets out a relieved laugh. "You remembered my name."
"Of course! I-" he trails off, staring at her in a trance, as if she might merely be a trick of the light, "I thought you were only passing through that day."
She nervously tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I was, but today I wound up back here. I guess my stomach was searching for something good to eat again."
Barry smiles goofily, his eyes going starry, but soon catches himself and clears his throat, his stance straightening. "Um, right, uh, would you like something to eat? Another chocolate chip cookie perhaps?"
Her stomach squirms pleasantly, because not only did he remember her name but also what she ordered. She tries hard to muffle a smile as she walks up to the counter, taking in all that is to offer. "While that cookie was extremely delicious," she compliments, making Barry's cheeks lightly blush, "I wanted to maybe try something else. See if your talents extend past chocolate chip cookies," she lightly teases.
Barry's chest puffs out slightly. "Of course they do. Pick anything and prepared to be amazed."
Caitlin smiles before looking at her options. "I think I'll try that lemon tart."
"Perfect choice," he tells her. "Let me go get you a bag."
"Wait!" Caitlin interrupts, halting the baker's steps towards the back. "Would you - would you mind if I ate it here?" she asks timidly, scared that he'll insist she leave when she doesn't want to. Strangely, being inside this bakery and being with Barry makes her forget about everything else entirely; it calms her mind from thinking about things like her meeting with Sir Ronald tonight.
He smiles. "Sure you can," he tells her and instead brings a plate from nearby so that he can put the tart on it for her.
She grins thankfully as he hands it to her. She brings the lemon tart up to her mouth, feeling Barry's eyes trepidly watching her as she takes a bite. "Mmm," she let out as her taste buds thank her for the treat. "This too is delicious," she tells the baker, who lets out a sigh of relief.
"Good. Glad I'm not a one-trick pony."
The princess giggles. "How did you come to be a baker, Barry?" she asking thoughtfully before taking another bite of her treat.
His grin widens at the mention of his name. "This was my mother and father's bakery," he told her fondly. "They both loved it so much - I grew up helping them and ended up loving it too, so it just seemed like the natural thing to do when they could no longer run it."
"If you don't mind me asking, why were they no longer able to run it?" she politely asks, her curiosity getting the best of her.
His expression sadly softens for a moment, before he shakes his head, a smile resurfacing as their eyes connect. "My mother died when I was young," he confesses. "As for my father, he just recently passed too."
Caitlin hand went to her mouth. "I am so sorry, Barry. If I had known, I wouldn't have…"
He lets out a small chuckle, his eyes nothing but good-natured and hospitable. "You couldn't have know," he tells her. "I do miss them tremendously. But when I'm baking, it makes me feel like I'm with them, though that might sound silly."
She shakes her head as she reaches across the counter, laying a reassuring hand on top of his. "No, I don't think it is silly at all."
Barry smiles at her gratefully, before his eyes zero in on their hands. He then puts his free hand on top of hers, squeezing it affectionately; her heart hammers at the feeling of his warmth. "Thanks," he says, and it is only then that she realizes what is happening within her.
She abruptly retracts her hand, clearing her throat. "I must leave," she says, backing away and towards the door. Not wanting to appear rude though, she turns to Barry halfway through the exit. "Thank you for the treat, Barry," she tells him.
He watches her, obviously confused, but mostly lost. "Well, if you need another, you know where to find me," he says as a sheepish, crooked smile morphs across his face, and the boyish charm he still contains into his adulthood makes him even more endearing, so much that she knows she needs to go now before she is further enraptured.
"Bye, Barry," she bids him, and tries to ignore the way her stomach pinches at the parting.
.
When she arrives back at the castle, no search parties are on the loose like last time. However, when she enters through the main door, her mother is there, waiting. "You have just enough time to straighten up for Sir Ronald," she notes with an approving nod. "One of the girls laid out a new gown for you to wear for the occasion," she further states before leaving the room, knowing Caitlin understands what is expected of her.
When she enters her bedroom chamber, she sees the dress her mother was talking about. It is a beautiful green gown. The trim and detail are in itself elegant, but what captures Caitlin attention most is that it reminds her of Barry's eyes, but she is quick to push that image away. She cannot be daydreaming about a common baker when she is supposed to be dining with the kingdom's finest knight in the hopes he'll want to marry her so her family's legacy can carry on. She feels like gagging at the thought, and, oh, how she loathes whatever fool made such a law for the ruling monarch to be wed.
Her stomach is in knots when she is called upon for supper. As she enters the dining hall, she sees her mother sitting at the head, while Sir Ronald is sitting to her left. Their conversation goes mum as she enters, and like a gentleman should, Sir Ronald rises as she approaches the table, a saccharine grin directed her way. "Princess Caitlin," he greets as he bows.
She politely curtsies back. "Sir Ronald."
Up close, he is more handsome than she remembers him being a couple years ago, when he was being honored at his knighthood ceremony. He is broad-chested and sturdy-looking, but he is also soft-spoken, and as they talk through their meal, she finds his company enjoyable. He seems like he would be a reliable and loyal husband. But just as she suspected, he doesn't make her heart race or skip a beat, or any of love's usual symptoms - which wouldn't have been an issue if she hadn't just recently met a man who did...
As Caitlin and her mother bid Sir Ronald a good night, watching him leave the castle's grounds in the carriage they had provided him for his journey, her mother turns to her. "So?"
The princess sighs. "I do not know, Mother."
"You seemed to get along nicely."
"Yes," she reluctantly agrees, "but...it just doesn't feel as I wish it would."
Her mother mutely nods. "Maybe it will, in time," she advises, her eyes steady on the carriage. "He'll be coming over every 5th day of the week to help you two get better acquainted."
Caitlin feels like a cannonball had just plummeted in her stomach. "Yes, mother."
So for every 5th day of the week for the next two months, Sir Ronald comes over mid-day and they spend the majority of their time walking the grounds together, particularly the gardens, as they get to know each other. And Sir Ronald really is a pleasant person, so respectful and kind-hearted. But always - always - in the back of her mind, a certain baker niggles his way in. So much that every 6th day of the week, Caitlin finds herself back at Barry's bakery, trying something new to eat as she talks to him for a few hours, getting to know him too.
She spends so much time with both of these men that she unconsciously starts drawing comparisons. Like when Sir Ronald laughs, Caitlin can't help but notice it isn't as contagious as Barry's. Or how the knight smells of metal, whereas the baker smells of sweet desserts. Sir Ronald listens, but Barry understands. And she feels so guilty that when she is with Sir Ronald that these differences pop up in her head, and that when she is with Barry, she rarely thinks of Sir Ronald at all. She feels so foolish to be putting herself through this, knowing that the more she sees Barry that it will only hurt worse when she has to marry Sir Ronald, but her heart betrays her time and time again.
Then her world crashes down around her. As she visits her father at his bedside, like she has done every day since his ailment kept him bedridden, her father's frail hand shakily reaches for her own. He tells her that he loves her and to be happy before his hand goes limp.
Fear spikes inside her chest. She jostles him, demanding he gets up immediately, but her father continues to lay there stockstill. Without context, he looks like he is just peacefully sleeping, but the princess does not need to be a doctor to know that he has passed. The realization and acceptance of it settles in, tightening her chest as tears prick her eyes. She flees.
The sun is low in the sky, but she still grabs her horse and lets the animal direct her where it wants, not caring if it tips her off at the edge of the world as all she can concentrate on is her pain and grief. Out of habit, her horse takes the path to the village by default. Something Caitlin does not realize until they are already in town, though the streets are reasonably darker and only lit by the torches hung by the corners.
Languidly, she ties her horse to a fence nearby and mindlessly walks down the main street, her feet taking her to the one place where she knows she'll find solace, knowing just one sniff of his pastries and one look into his eyes will help mend this fractured feeling. However, when she arrives at his bakery, the scent of his food is faint and the shop itself is dark.
"Barry!" she wails outside the door, knocking her fists against the pane. "Barry!" But it is only met with silence and curious glances from the few people passing by.
She crumbles against the door, sliding to the frigid cold ground. She curls herself up into a ball while she quietly cries into her hands. It's like her heart has been ripped open, and she fears she'll bleed out, the pain too intolerable. It's then that the door opens up behind her.
"Caitlin?" she hears a voice say. She looks over her shoulder and sees the concerned face of Barry, prompting her to jump up from the ground and burrow herself into his arms. He's immobile for a moment, in shock, before he wraps his arms around her shoulders. "Hey, hey. Everything is going to be alright," he coos into her ear, rubbing his hands up and down her back soothingly.
Her cries intensify. "No, it won't," she whispers dretchedly into his chest, her tears falling as steady as a waterfall, but the scent of cookies and cakes that lingers on his shirt brings about some levity.
She hears the baker sigh. "Come on, come in," he tells her, grabbing her shoulders to direct her into his bakery and closing the door once they are both inside.
The princess sniffles as he sets her down on a chair. He kneels down in front of her, his face a mixture of worry and sadness. "Caitlin, what's wrong?"
Her breath shutters, her eyes still leaking tears. She reaches for his hands, holding them in her lap, needing to feel his warmth in comparison to her father's cold ones that now feel imprinted on her skin. "My-my father," she stutters out, intaking a huge breath. "He…" she trails off, another wave of tears making its way down her face, but it must be enough for Barry to understand.
"Oh, Caitlin," he lets out sympathetically. His eyebrows pinch. "I'm so sorry."
After a few silent moments tick by, he then begins talking - about everything and nothing. He doesn't bring up her father - for that she is grateful - but he does talk about some of his customers and some new recipes he's been thinking about trying out, amongst other things. And just listening to the sound of Barry's voice, so calm and delicate and warm, it starts stitching up the rip that her father's death had caused.
"I'm terribly sorry for keeping you," she starts to apologize as she notes that she has been there for at least a few hours, keeping him up. She wipes at her eyes, trying to look less of a mess.
Barry merely smiles, looking nonplussed. "You needed to get away - I understand that." And she knows he does, remembering back on an earlier conversation of theirs, and maybe that is why she sought him out - or at least one of the reasons.
"I really must go," she tells him, moving towards his bakery door, more anguish filling her because she hates how she always must go, that she always must leave him.
His lips are still upturned into a smile, but his eyes show a sadness. "If you must," he tells her, but holds up his index finger, signalling for her to wait as he goes into the back. He comes back a moment later, a bag in hand. "Here," he says, his warm hands placing it into hers. "Something to eat on the journey back."
She nods but remains rooted to her spot. His hands are still covering hers as they stare at one another, so much running through her head. Will she see him again? Wedding preparations will have to be tended to and then she'll be crowned the Queen. Her hands clench at Barry's, a desperation present in the air, so tangible that she knows he must feel it too.
"Thank you, Barry."
His thumbs swipe gently against her hands, discreeting caressing them. "Anytime, Caitlin. Anytime."
.
When she arrives back home, the castle is buzzing like a beehive despite the very late hour. People are rushing from one end to the other, in and out of rooms, like little worker bees. No one even glances in her direction or asks her where she has been. They are all getting ready for the funeral it seems, and her heart pangs with grief as she feels herself tearing up once again.
She rushes to her room, wishing not to cry in front of anyone. And when she is in the safety of her chambers, does she finally let loose, and she cries for a considerable amount of time. Her eyes are sore and sting, but she can't seem to stop. Every time she thinks about her father, a fresh wave of tears comes pouring down her face as she spirals. Because not only does she think of her father and the precious memories that they have shared and the ones that they will unfortunately never get to make, but then she thinks about Sir Ronald and their upcoming marriage and how foolish she was to fall so suddenly for the town's baker.
She then realizes that she had been so preoccupied on the way back to the castle that she had never eaten what Barry had given her for the journey. She quickly fumbles with her belongings that she had taken, trying to find the bag the baker had given her. Once found, she opens it to find a blueberry muffin, and a note.
'No matter when or where or why, know I will be there for you. Stay strong, Caitlin.'
-Barry
A watery, feeble smile makes its way to her lips as she reads the handwritten scrawl over and over again, her fingers tracing the letters of his name fondly. She then holds the note to her heart. Even when he is not present, he still manages to ease her mind and get her to feel something whole.
"Caitlin?" a voice calls out, and the princess is quick to hide the note under her pillow just as her mother comes into view. "Where were you?" Caitlin opens her mouth to answer, but is swiftly cut off by her mother. "Another ride for fresh air?"
"Yes, mother," she tells her softly.
Her mother sits next to her on the bed. "It was nearly dark when you left - you know you have to be careful."
"I know."
"But clearly you don't, Caitlin," her mother tells her, tone curt. "Your father just…" her throat closes up, but she muddles through the emotion as she's been famous for as she cranes her neck up high and proud. "What is this?" her mother asks, picking up the bakery bag with the tips of her fingers.
The princess' heart leaps in fear. "It was just a snack. I had gotten hungry."
Her mother's eyes bore into hers. "You went all the way into town?" she says, her voice clipped and disapproval clear.
"No one recognized me."
"But what if someone did?" she hollered, getting up from the bed to walk to the other side of the room in an effort to calm down. "Caitlin…" - she started, voice finally cracking, giving way to the emotion she had denied herself thus far, before she shakes her head, closing herself off again, "maybe you should just go to sleep now. It's been a tiring night and we'll have Sir Ronald and other guests arriving tomorrow to help with preparations for the funeral."
And with that she exited Caitlin's bedroom.
.
The next day blew by in a blur. So many faces - some she knew, some she did not recognize - all wishing her their condolences. The funeral wasn't for another few days (they had to give people time to travel), but some people had already dropped by to pay their respects.
"Princess Caitlin," Sir Ronald announces, bowing to her form.
She curtsies. "Sir Ronald."
His lips tilt upwards on the one side. "You may call me Ronnie, if you wish."
She nods, her lips pressed together. "I will keep that in mind."
"Good," he says, looking at her delicately, almost watching her appraisingly. "I do not know if your mother told you, but I will be staying at the castle now."
"Until the funeral," she adds.
"Actually," he starts, frowning ever so slightly, "I will be staying here even after the funeral…"
A knot of dread formed in her stomach. "Oh," she lets out mutely, trying to keep any of her negative emotion out from her response and facial features. She did not want to offend Sir Ronald, for it wasn't his fault for why she was not a supporter to their union.
Sir Ronald - Ronnie - takes a step closer, his tone soft and patient. "I know the transition will be difficult, going from the funeral of a parent to the union to a stranger in such short time, but I want you to know that I am willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy, my lady."
She harshly swallows a lump of emotion down her throat as she weakly nods. She wants to cry again, but she's pretty sure she doesn't possess any more tears to cry. "Thank you," she eventually whispers before excusing herself to go back to her bedroom chambers.
...
When the day of her father's funeral finally arrives, people from near and far show up along the roads and paths that lead to the royal cemetery. She is in a carriage with her mother and Sir Ronald with her father's body towing behind them in another. And while she is touched by all of the flowers and cries that come from the crowds, the publicity of it makes her sick to her stomach.
"Remember, I'm here for you," she hears Ronnie whisper in her ear. He places his hand into hers to further prove the point - something her mother noticeably turns her head from to give them privacy, but Caitlin knows Carla is pleasantly pleased about the action. However, his hand is so hot that it feels like she had been burnt, so much so that she retracts his hands from hers swiftly.
"Thank you," she lets out tersively, her eyes instead focusing at the scenery out the window. Their were plenty of people still standing and waving, and in Caitlin's hopeful mind, she absurdly wished for a certain baker's face to be among them, but he wasn't.
In a way, it was probably for the best. In her current state of mind, she may have hopped off the carriage and let Barry whisk her far away from there. But that couldn't happen. She was going to get married to Ronnie soon and become the kingdom's Queen, and that couldn't be helped.
...
After the funeral, Caitlin is thrown into wedding details, though not as much as she thought she'd be going through, since it seems her mother had handled most of the preparations weeks ago. As much as she wanted to be annoyed by that fact, she is instead grateful because all she can feel is a numbness. She saw her wedding dress just the other day, and it was everything she ever dreamt it could be, but the excitement she anticipated stayed mum. She feels like she is walking underwater - all her motions are lagged and her limbs feel like they are filled with lead. Despite staff and a myriad of other guests trodding around the castle since the funeral and now for the wedding, the castle has never felt emptier to Caitlin.
Ronnie, bless his heart, tries so very hard to get her spirits up. As they walk the grounds like they do every afternoon, he makes jokes and tells funny stories, but Caitlin can only manage to force a smile for his efforts. Caitlin has always been a guarded person, but since recent events, it's like those walls around her have been built as high as the sky. Ronnie is climbing it, chipping at it slightly as he goes, but Caitlin knows he'll never reach the other side, but she appreciates his attempts nevertheless.
"Caitlin?" her mother calls out to her one day as they finished up breakfast.
"Yes, Mother?"
Her mother sighs, her features contemplative of what to say next. "Dear, you've been down in spirits these last few weeks."
Caitlin refrains from rolling her eyes, knowing her mother would not appreciate it, and actions like that are not incumbent for a future queen anway. "I just need time, Mother."
Carla sadly nods. "I know. I, myself, am still grieving heavily for your father, but we cannot forget about what lies ahead. You should be excited for your marriage, my girl. Sir Ronald will be a good husband."
"I know he will be," she admits, because he will, he's already proven that with his patience with her at this time.
Her mother sighs again. "Do you think that if you went out on a horse ride for some air that you would feel better?" she asks, her eyes watching hers knowingly.
The princess frowns. "You-you'd let me?"
"I do not like it," Carla confessed. "But I cannot deny that you come back in better spirits afterwards…"
Caitlin beams, quickly getting up from her seat. "Thank you," she whispers gratefully before scurrying out of the dining hall.
.
With a quick change of clothes, Caitlin grabs her horse and finds herself heading towards the village once again. Her heart already feels a hundred times lighter with just the anticipation of who she knows she'll see once she gets there, because of course she is going to see Barry. She may be betrothed to another man, but if her mother wants her to get better, Barry and his delicious baking are the only things that may have a chance to remedy her.
As she enters town, it is just how she left it. The village is dependable and consistent, something she doesn't seem to have at the castle. And as she walks down the streets and towards the main road, she intakes a nervous breath as she peeks her eyes into the window of the bakery shop. She is instantly relieved to see Barry behind his counter, placing some type of good out on display.
She eagerly opens the door, but he is oblivious to her entrance as he is singing and swaying his body to the words of a song. She bites down on her lip, finding the scene quite comical. "You could be an entertainer with these skills," she remarks teasingly.
The sudden voice takes the man by surprise. His head jolts up, throwing him off balance and making him trip over his own two feet, falling to the floor.
"Barry!" she hollers, quickly rounding his counter to be at his side. "Are you alright?" she asks worriedly.
The baker sits up, dusting his shoulders off. "I'm fine. More embarrassed than anything," he admits as he looks up at her cheekily.
"I'm so sorry," she starts to apologize, but Barry waves it off.
"It's fine," he assures her as he climbs back to his feet. His eyes then settle on her, taking her presence in fully, his eyes glistening and his mouth widening. "Hi."
Her cheeks feel warm as she tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Hello," she shyly greets back.
She watches his Adam's apple bobb along his throat. "Um, uh, what can I get for you today, Caitlin?"
The princess takes a seat near the counter. "Maybe another chocolate chip cookie."
Barry raises his brow. "Oh no, you must have hated the last thing I gave you if you're going back to old treats," he says, but his tone is jovial so she knows he's only joking.
"I just want something sweet, and that seems like it will happily satisfy the need," she tells him.
He nods. "One cookie coming up," he says, plucking a cookie from the display case to his right and setting it down in front of her on a plate.
They talk amongst themselves for a few moments - Barry telling her about what he baked that morning and Caitlin commenting that the skies looked gray - before the baker's face sombers. "How are you?" he asks, and by the weight of his tone, she knows he is referring to her father's death. "You haven't been here in a few weeks and I was growing very worried."
She swallows. Even though a few weeks have passed, the thought of it still stings and threatens tears.
"Hey," he says, extending his hand to cover hers, gaining her attention. "I know sometimes the pain is as worse as the day it happened, but we persevere."
A single tear falls from her eye and then another and another. She usually doesn't like crying in front of people (showing weakness), but with Barry she always gets the impression that he only finds her stronger by doing so. He squeezes her hand to reassure her, causing her to look up into his compassionate eyes.
"Here," he says, grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket and extending it to her to use. "Cookies don't taste half as good when they are soggy with tears."
She giggles as she takes the handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes with it. "No. No, they do not," she agrees.
He smiles back. "You're going to be fine; you just have to give yourself some time."
Caitlin nods, knowing Barry is correct in his assessment, especially since he had not only lost one parent but both over the years. "Thank you, Barry. Really. I have no one else to talk to this about."
"No family or friends?"
"My mother isn't the easiest person to talk with and...none of my...friends would understand. They haven't…lost anyone like this."
Barry nods, understanding what she means.
They continue small talking for awhile as Barry starts another batch of cookies. Caitlin watches as a few customers come and go, watching the baker be as charismatic as ever as he waits on the people buying, seeing firsthand how he spellbounds everyone he meets. Especially one customer in particular.
"Hello, Mr. Allen!" a pretty, young blonde-haired girl loudly greets as she enters the bakery.
Barry pauses in their conversation to look over at the woman. "Oh, hello, Ms. Spivot. Here for your daily muffin?"
Her eyes alighten. "Yes, of course," she says excitedly, watching Barry walk to the back of the bakery, before her gaze sees Caitlin and it sours ever so briefly. "Oh...hello," she greets her, though with much less enthusiasm.
As the baker makes his way back to the main area, he flashes the blonde his heart-stopping smile as he hands her the muffin, which leaves Ms. Spivot nearly a puddle on the floor. Caitlin hates to admit that she finds herself becoming jealous, but she tries to push that feeling down immediately knowing she has no right to feel this way, not when she will be marrying Ronnie shortly.
And as soon as the blonde arrives, she is then gone, and Barry occupies the same spot he had been previously, ready to begin talking again.
"So that Ms. Spivot comes in every day?" she inquires. Though, Caitlin reasons, if she had lived in the village, she'd probably want to visit Barry every day too.
Barry studies her for a moment before his lips morph into a smirk. "Don't worry, Caitlin. You're still my favorite customer," he tells her with a laugh.
Caitlin blushes. "I didn't - I wasn't - I've only come in here a couple handful of times though…"
"Doesn't matter," he tells her, leaning against the counter, his mesmerizing eyes locked on hers. It feels like he is looking into her soul and it leaves her breathless. "You're quite hard to forget."
The princess' face feels like it is on fire. She doesn't quite know what to say in return. Luckily, the roar of thunder interrupts her from responding directly to that. Her head turns swiftly to the window nearby, a panic spiking when she sees it is raining relatively hard.
"Oh, no," she lets out, making her way to the window to look out. "I won't be able to get home in this kind of weather," she frets, biting down on her lower lip.
"You're always welcome to stay here until the storm settles down," he tells her. She turns to find him only a foot or two away from her. "I've quite liked your company this afternoon, and I wouldn't mind another hour or two," he boldly tells her, his eyes silently pleading with her to stay.
She finds herself smiling, the panic subsiding. "Another cookie then?"
His whole body swells as he beams at her. "Right away, my lady."
And things are fine for the next couple of hours. Barry and Caitlin talk about like their mutual curiosity of the stars and reading the discoveries of one of the great Philosophers of their era, Harrison Wells. Barry even let Caitlin help him bake peach pies, since pies were still tricky for him to make, especially with the lattice-styled crust that the customer had ordered.
"Look at you, you're a pie baking pro," he proudly acknowledges, looking at her pie that had near perfect presentation, before frowning at his own concoction. "Unlike me. Are you sure you're not the baker?" he jokes.
She giggled. "It's okay. It's a pie. It's not supposed to be a piece of cake."
Barry swivels his full attention to the woman, looking at her incredulously. "Wow," he lets out in amazement, holding back a laugh. "Teasing me with a baking pun, huh? Ouch!"
But soon the sky grows darker, almost pitch black except for the lightning that flashes across the landscape. The storm has yet to let up in any way, and as she bites down on her bottom lip, she worries what she will do for the night since she can't ride home.
"What is bothering you?" Barry asks.
She tears her eyes away from the window, her teeth letting go of her lip as she looks over at the baker. "Pardon?"
He stifles a smile. "I've noticed that you bite your lip when you are thinking something bothersome, so...what is it?"
She's unsure on how she feels about him knowing something like this about her when she wasn't even aware of it herself. But as his words settle, it only makes her feel fuzzy and looked after. "I will need to find a place to sleep for the night. Is there an Inn nearby?"
"There is," he tells her, nodding, but she can feel him growing apprehensive as his gaze continues to drill into her. "Or...you - you can always stay here. With me."
Her breath hitches in her throat, her heart pounding as thunderous as the storm outdoors. "I don't want to intrude."
His face splits into one of the most genuine grins she's ever witnessed. "You won't be," he tells her, dipping his head to meet at her eye level. "I'll set up the bed for you," he tells her gently before going into the back and out of site.
Her mind screams "no," for her to get out of there before she makes a tremendous mistake. Her mother would scold her for trusting a mere stranger like she has. But her heart is stronger, for her feet stay rooted. There is an innate goodness that radiates off of Barry, and it leaves her trusting him wholeheartedly.
"I've set up the bed for you," he says, breaking the princess of out of her thoughts. "It's ready whenever you are."
She nods, walking up to him. "I should probably try to sleep now. I want to be able to rise early."
Barry dips his head and guides her into a small room in the back she hadn't seen before. "Is this okay?" he asks.
Caitlin looks around his bedroom. His mattress is the main furniture piece and takes up most of the area. If she had to guess, she'd say this room is about a sixth of the size of her chambers at the castle, if not smaller. But none of that matters. She can see that Barry tried to straighten up and had put fresh sheets on the bed. In the short time she has known him, he has offered her everything of his that he has had to offer. He was just so good, and so generous. How was he still a bachelor was beyond her.
She turns back to Barry, who is looking at her worryingly. "It's perfect," she tells him with a smile, and he relaxes.
"Good. Good," he says with a mild laugh. "If you need anything, I will be in the next room."
Her eyebrows scrunch together. "Is there another bed?" she inquires, surmising that the bakery isn't big enough to have any more rooms, even of this size.
"I have blankets," he tells her, trying to wave it off.
"Barry."
"I will be fine," he tries to ensure her, understanding her unspoken words. "Have a good night's sleep," he tells her, moving to walk out, but Caitlin grows bold and reaches out, grasping his hand.
He instantly turns to her, eyes so deep and beautiful yet scary and unknown, just like how she remembers the sea would look like when her father used to take her in the summers. Barry's gaze flickers downwards to her lips for the briefest of moments before they are looking back into her orbs.
"Stay," she tells him.
He shakes his head, a huff of a humorless laugh coming out along with it. "Caitlin..."
"You've already been so hospitable to me. I cannot have you sleeping on the floor for my sake."
"I couldn't...I shouldn't…"
Caitlin sniffs. "Then I will also sleep on the floor too," she tells him, picking up the blanket and pillow and placing it on the ground.
He studies her for a moment, and he must see that her resolve is strong and arguing with her will be moot for he relents. "Okay, fine," he gives in measuredly. "Please get back on the bed."
She presses her lips together to stop a smirk from forming. "Gladyly," she says to him sweetly before picking up everything and setting it back onto the mattress, content to see Barry there besides her as she falls asleep.
.
A ray of sunshine peeks its way through the window, hitting Caitlin's face and inevitably waking her from her slumber. The first thing she realizes is that she's warm, so so warm, like she's in a cocoon, resting by the fire. But as she looks down, she realizes she is only just in an embrace - Barry's.
She turns her head slightly and she sees Barry's sleeping form next to her and her heart catches. Part of her feels guilt for being in another man's arms, and in his bed no less (so scandalous!), when she's going to wed Ronnie soon, but she doesn't dwell too long and instead takes the time to soak it all in - from his rustled hair, his parted lips, his eyelashes kissing his cheeks and the faint flush of sleep in his complexion. He's so beautiful, and she only wishes that this was the sight she could wake up to day in and day out, but she knows her mother would never approve of such a union, especially not when she already has plans for her and Ronnie.
"Morning," Barry sleepily greets her, his lips lazily spreading as his eyes crack open.
"Good morning," she greets back, a smile of her own is automatic.
It's then that he must notice their positioning because he stills. "Oh, you must be so uncomfortable," he then says before beginning to extract his arms from around her, but Caitlin is quick to halt it.
"Don't," she tells him gently, not wanting this to end just yet.
He nods, keeping his limbs in place around her. He may have even tighten his hold some, but maybe that was Caitlin's wishful thinking. They are both settled against their respective pillows just gazing at each other. She feels his eyes roaming all over her face, getting softer as each moment passes.
"God, you are a picture," he eventually says, causing her to blush profoundly.
"You flatter me, but I am certain I look a mess," she volleys back, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear.
Barry just softly shakes his head, his eyes dreamy. "No, you're perfect."
Caitlin feels like someone is sucking the air straight from her lungs. She averts her gaze to catch her breath when she notices the clock through the doorway that nearly stops her heart with dread. "Oh dear, we slept in later than intended," she notes, quickly detangling herself from Barry before getting up from the bed. Her mother must be a worried wreck
Barry shoots up from the bed too and is soon by her side. "You're leaving?" he asks.
The princess pauses and turns to him, a streak of honestly coursing through her. "I don't want to go," she tells him sadly, her lips trembling as she reaches for his hands. "But I must."
His face pinches in as he looks at her searchingly. "But you'll come back again? Right? Eventually? Like you always do."
Her stomach drops and she wants to cry. Will she see him again? She'll be getting married soon and be crowned the Queen. And even if she was able to come back to the village, should she? It would just cause her more heartbreak.
"I don't think so," she whispers in the air between them, and there is a finality in her tone unlike the first time she said this. "I have duties I can't neglect when I get back to my home."
His jaw locks as so many emotions flicker on his face. He swallows them all down. "Then - then maybe I can go to you," he tells her, a small hopeful smile spurting across his face. "Just tell me where and I'll go."
She shakes her head, willing herself to keep her composure. "You can't leave here. Your bakery - it's the only thing of your parents' that you have left, and you love it-"
"I love you," he tells her resolutely, and her heart somehow grows and crumbles at the declaration. "I know it sounds crazy, but I do. And I'd follow you wherever."
"Barry-" she starts, but is quickly interrupted by a round of knocks against the bakery's front door.
Barry sighs. "It's probably a customer. I usually have the shop opened by now…" he relays to her regrettably.
"Sorry-"
"No, no," he's quick to reassure her, his hands still firmly in hers, his expression patient and kind as always. "It's fine. But maybe you should stay here in this room," he tells her. "It would be better on both of us if people do not see an unwed woman at my business so early."
She bites her lip. She hadn't even thought of that. That would not be good for anyone's reputation, but especially not hers if anyone were to recognize her as the Princess and soon-to-be Queen. "Okay."
Barry leaves to go through the bakery and into the front of the shop. She hears him open the door and greet whoever is on the other side. "I'm sorry, Sir. I overslept. What can I get for you?"
But it is the voice that talks back that makes her stomach squirm. "I'm looking for a woman about your age with long brunette hair and brown eyes. Have you seen her?" - it sounded like Ronnie.
"Uhhh?" she hears Barry let out unsurely as she tiptoes herself in the bakery to get a better look. "There are a lot of women who fit that description in this village, Sir."
She peers out through the archway, and there he is. She instantly recognizes Ronnie's broad shoulders and jet black hair. Her minimal movement must be enough for his soldier eyes though, for he senses it and he sees her. "Princess Caitlin!" he hollers.
"Princess?" she hears Barry say confusingly out loud, his head turning to her direction, and she can tell he is gobsmacked by the revelation.
Ronnie pushes Barry back and makes his way to her, holding her at arm's length as he looks her over. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine. Really, I am," she tells the knight, trying to reassure him, before her eyes return to Barry. "Mr. Allen provided me shelter when the storm got too nasty last night."
Ronnie nods, turning to Barry too. "Thank you, Mr. Allen. You've done a great duty for your kingdom by keeping the princess safe."
"Y-Yeah," he says breathily; Caitlin imagines he's still trying to process everything he's just learned. "Yeah, of course. Of course."
"You bake," Ronnie notes, taking in the bakery. He then turns to Caitlin, a warm smile overcoming him. "Maybe he can bake us something for our wedding?" he suggests, and it isn't lost on Caitlin how Barry's face falls even further.
Caitlin opens her mouth, but Barry beats her to the punch. "I'd be honored," he tells the knight, though he looks so small and she hates how it's all her fault.
"Excellent!" Ronnie beams before turning to Caitlin. "We must really get back. We must put your mother out of her worries."
The princess nods. "Before we leave though, can I have a moment with Mr. Allen? I want to say thank you."
Ronnie furrows his brows, chancing a glance at the baker before nodding. "Of course," he says with a nod. "I will be by the carriage waiting." And with one final look at both of them, he leaves the store, going to the carriage like he said, where a group of guards are stationed.
"Barry," she starts wretchedly once they are alone.
A self-deprecated huff escapes from his lips. "I'm a fool."
"No. No, you're not," she is quick to assure him, her eyes pleading for him to believe that.
"Why didn't you tell me you were the princess? Why didn't you tell me you were getting married?" he questions, his voice strangled and hurt.
Her lips quivers. "Because everytime I came into town, I was trying to forget that part of my life," she admits. "I don't want any of it - not like this. If I have to get married and be Queen, I want to share that with someone I love with all of my heart."
"You don't love him?" the baker asks surprisingly, casting a look at the Knight through the window.
She shakes her head. "No," she answers. "I - I've only ever loved you," she says brokenly, a tear falling from her eyes, "but I found you too late."
Barry's breath hitches before he reaches out to her, bringing her into his arms securely, laying her head to his chest where she can feel his heart beating resoundly. "It doesn't have to be too late," he whispers into her hair. "Stay."
She reclines back, taking in his wrinkled clothes and tousled hair and her heart clenches. She doesn't want to leave. She'd be happy to live out the rest of her days in this tiny little store, baking alongside Barry until they were grey and old. But she knows she must go. Her mother just lost a husband; she can't lose a daughter too.
"I can't stay, Barry. I can't do that to my mother, to my father's memory, nor the kingdom."
He smiles sadly, his hands finding her face and holding it tenderly. "I know, but I had to ask," he tries to say lightly, but under these circumstances, everything is layered with heartbreak.
"I should go," she says, knowing that delaying the inevitable is only going to prolong the agony.
Barry swallows, his eyes getting watery as he nods, and with a boldness she didn't know he possessed, the baker leans down to press a chaste kiss against her cheek that might as well have branded his name directly onto her heart for good - for forever.
He lingers in her personal space, resting his forehead gingerly against hers. All she can see is his beautiful green eyes, the same eyes that drew her in on the first day she walked into this shop. And up this close, she can only see the love in his eyes, not the anguish or sadness that he is no doubt feeling, and this is how she wants to remember him by.
"Thank you, Barry. Again. For everything."
"Always, Caitlin."
.
The carriage pulls up to the castle, and no two seconds later her mother emerges from it, frantically walking down the stairs as best as she can in her dress. She catches the princess off guard as she pulls her into a hug once she reaches her; she can feel her mother's hands trembling against her. "I thought I lost you too," she hears her mother whisper, and it makes her feel guilt for even having the faintest thoughts about running away with Barry.
"I'm here, mother. I'm fine."
"Good, good. Let's keep it that way," she says, detaching herself from her daughter. She looks to Sir Ronald. "Thank you for bringing her home."
Ronnie flashes her mother a charming smile. "Of course. And she was right where you thought she'd be."
Caitlin heart catches, and for the first time she questions how quickly Ronnie found her. Apparently her mother figured she'd be at the bakery.
Her mother's smile visibly becomes strained, at least to her it does. "Come, Caitlin," she says, grabbing at her arm. "Let's get you into some clean clothes." But the princess knows she merely wants to talk in private, and she dreads ever second it takes until they reach her room.
Her mother actually waits until she changes before she levels her with a knowing eye. "You were with that baker, weren't you?"
"And you deducted this from one pastry I brought home?" Caitlin inquires incredulously, and she cannot keep the edge out of her voice.
"And this," her mother hollers, reaching under Caitlin's pillow for the note Barry had written her previously and that she had kept.
Her eyes grow as wide as their dinner plates. "Give that back!"
"Caitlin, it is not wise to hold onto things such as this. You have a commendable and suitable man in Sir Ronald. You are soon to be wed. You need this marriage to rule."
"I know," Caitlin says defeatingly, and really she is so tired; this day has taken so much out of her. "That's why I came back. But please," she begged, her eyes glassy as she reached out for the note, "it's all I have left of him."
Her mother frowns, and there is that rare look of understanding in her eyes again. She then looks at the note in her hand. "This Barry fellow means that much to you?"
A tear falls from the princess' eye, but she is quick to wipe it away. "I love him," she confesses quietly.
"Love him?" Carla repeats back. "You barely know this man!"
"I barely know Sir Ronald, and yet I am marrying him all the same," Caitlin counters, and her mother's lips purse. "I'm here. I know my duty and I know what I must do to intact it. But please, can I have the note back? Don't take that away from me too."
Her mother sighs, but begrudgingly gives the note back to Caitlin. "You can't go back to the village. Not anymore."
The princess dips her head. "I know," she answers. "I won't be."
Her mother sends her a curt nod of approval. "Good."
…
"Princess?"
She swivels her attention to the person who calls for her, and it's Ronnie. He's standing at the entrance of the gardens, watching her cautiously from a distance, like she has the plague or something.
"Yes?"
He opens his mouth but closes it just as quickly. He seems to be debating if he should speak his mind or not. He straightens, clearing his throat. "Are you okay? You've seemed significantly worse off than before…I'm worried."
Caitlin's minutely smiles as she regards her future husband. He really is a good man, and she wishes she could feel for him what she feels for Barry - it would be so much easier - but she doesn't. And knowing Barry loves her, just as she does him, but she cannot be with him, tears her apart inside. "I'm fine, Ronnie," she says with a sigh, looking off at a flower bed in the distance. "This just isn't how I envisioned my life to go, but I'll be fine. I just need time."
Ronnie nods, but she can tell he's still uncertain. "Can you meet me back here tonight? At dusk?"
She furrows her brows. "Why do we need to come back when we are both here right now?"
"I want to make you happy, Caitlin. Let me try," is all he tells her, and the sincerity is tangible in his words and clear as day on his face that she can't say no.
"Okay, I will be here to tonight at dusk."
.
The day passes slower than usual, but Caitlin guesses this is because she is curious about tonight with Ronnie in the garden. Maybe he was trying to be more charming and set up a romantic evening for them together. It's all her mind can think up.
As the sun finally sets, Caitlin finds herself exiting the castle and heading towards the gardens. It is getting darker with every step she takes, but the moon up above is lighting the grounds well enough to see. And when she finally reaches the location she had been earlier, she stops dead in her tracks. For it isn't Ronnie that is standing there waiting, but Barry.
"Barry?" she lets out in surprise, her body perking, her heart lifting almost out of her body completely.
He turns around, a big goofy smile splitting across his face. "Caitlin," he lets out softly, like she's a dream.
Unable to help herself, she picks up her dress and scurries to him, launching herself into his arms. She lets out a cry in happiness as he holds her so tightly. She grasps at his form, scared this is some evil trick of the light, but it isn't. It's him, smelling like cookies and pies and cakes and all.
"I've missed you so much," she confesses to him before leaning back to look at him. "But why...how are you here?"
Barry's hands are running up and down her back. "That knight that came and got you at my bakery - the guy that you're supposed to marry - he came to me today and he brought me here."
Caitlin frowns, confusion sweeping over her features. "Why would he do that?"
The baker cups her face with his hands, caressing her cheeks delicately. "He said he wanted to make you happy, and that I do that," he tells her as he rests his forehead against hers, intaking a huge breath. "Is that true? Do I make you happy?"
She tilts her head slightly, letting her nose brush against Barry's, a smile only growing with their decreasing proximity. "The happiest."
He smiles so brightly it could light up the sky better than all the stars combined. "Good," he tells her. "You make me the happiest too."
Butterflies erupt and her heart soars. "Let's catch up," she says, grabbing his hand to pull him to the bench nearby, where they sit for what feels like hours, giggling hand in hand, as they talk and gaze at the night sky. That is until they hear someone clear their throat behind them.
Caitlin turns, but quickly jumps to her feet. "Mother!" she yelps in surprise.
Barry rises to his feet too, his eyes wide with fear. "Your majesty," he says, bowing respectfully at her.
She watches as her mother looks Barry over, her eyes taking in his hair and his clothes and his posture. "This is him?" she asks.
Caitlin swallows down her apprehension as she bravely takes Barry's hand back into hers, interlocking them. "Yes, Mother. This is Barry Allen, the baker," she introduces, looking over at her companion, smiling at him despite the unfavorable situation they were in.
"Barry," her mother says emotionally detached, "firstly, I'd like to thank you for keeping my daughter safe during that night of that horrid storm."
He dips his head politely. "Of course, your majesty. I would do anything to keep Caitlin safe."
Caitlin's eyes soften as she regards the man besides her. Every word he utters just makes her fall in love with him more and more.
Carla raises an eyebrow, watching the two silently for a few moments. "Can I have a word with my daughter, please? In private."
The baker looks at Caitlin, silently asking her if she really wants him to leave. She smiles at his thoughtfulness, but gestures to him that she'll be fine. He nods with a timid smile, squeezing her hand one last time before walking away.
"I did not arraigned this," the princess immediately says once he is out of ear shot.
"I know."
"He says Ronnie came and got him-"
"I know."
"He didn't-" she begins but stops as her ears finally pick up what her mother has been saying. "Wait, you know?"
Carla nods. "Ronnie told me of his plans this afternoon. He said that he accidentally witnessed an intimate moment between you two before you came back to the castle the morning after the storm," she tells Caitlin, making the princess blush. "And he thought that maybe if you saw this baker again that you would start to feel better..." she trails off, looking at her daughter with a sigh. "Do you?"
Caitlin gathers in a breath. "I'm my happiest when I'm around him."
The queen purses her lips, the wrinkles of her face becoming more evident as she reluctantly nods. "I heard you giggle," she whispers reminensly. "I haven't heard you giggle since you were a little girl."
"Mother," Caitlin starts, taking a step closer to the woman. "Where are you going with this?"
Her lips tremble into a quaint smile. She reaches out to her daughter, taking her one hand into both of hers. "Love is pain, my dear. It's not always this wonderful, gushy feeling. While you may not love Ronnie, he would be dependable and committed, and that would never change, because that is his duty. But now I realize that I cannot shelter you from what you are feeling for another man. This choice has to be up to you."
"Choice?" Caitlin repeats softly in surprise. "You're letting me choose?"
Carla's face tilts up. "I cannot speak of this Barry the Baker's commitment towards you, nor guarantee that he will always love you, but I want to keep your father's promise, and I do want you happy Caitlin. So yes, you may choose who you want to marry."
The princess beams before launching herself at her mother, hugging her so gratefully. "Thank you, Mother!" she exclaims. She feels as if she could fly! "I have to tell Barry," she says giddily before trodding off towards the direction the young man took earlier.
It takes her less than a minute before she finds him. "Barry!" she hollers.
He turns, sighing in relief at the sight of her. Even from afar she can tell he is a bundle of nerves. "Caitlin," he exhales, jogging to her side, hands holding her upper arms. "I was half-convinced that guards were going to come to take me away and that I'd never get to see you again," he tells her worriedly, before his eyes widen. "The - the guards aren't going to come and take me away, are they?"
The princess giggles. "No, the guards are not going to come to take you away," she promises him. "They wouldn't do that...to their future Prince," she tells him, leaning back to watch his face as he processes what she said.
Barry tilts his head to the side, the space in between his eyebrows creased and his mouth lifted into a bewildered pout. "Future Prince?" he repeats slowly, shaking his head, "But I'm not…" he says but drifts off as a realization hits him. He looks at her in astonishment. "Me a Prince?!"
Shyly, she looks up at him from under her lashes. "If you'd want to of course," she is quick to add. "I know you have your bakery-"
"That doesn't matter," Barry says, cutting her off as he cups her face gracefully, looking down at her like she is his world. "I would love to be your Prince - your husband," he tells her.
She radiates, the happiness spreading to every part of her body - from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. "I will work something out with the kitchen staff so you can still bake," she tells him, knowing how much baking connects him to his parents and how much joy he gets from it.
"Thank you. That'd be lovely," he whispers happily as he leans his forehead down on hers, sighing contently.
"Can I - can I try something?" she then asks quietly.
Barry leans back to look at her with amusement, but nods his consent.
With that Caitlin timidly closes the gap between them and lays a delicate kiss against his lips that leaves them both breathless despite the brevity of it. They smile abashedly at each other, blushing so merrily, when they part, before going in for a second kiss, this one deeper and lasting much longer as they cement the intertwining of their hearts and futures.
Caitlin giggles as the kiss ends, which Barry finds absolutely endearing. "What?" he queries amusingly.
She smirks, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You taste of sweets," she lightly teased.
He freely laughs out loud, his hands going to her waist. "I do tend to snack off of what I'm baking," he shared. "But is that such a bad thing? To taste of cookies and other sweets?"
She slowly shook her head, her eyes so full of him and her love. "Not at all."
"Good," he says blissfully before bringing her face back up to his to kiss her once more.
A/N: So yeah...I don't generally write things like this, so please forgive any weird inaccuracies there might be for royalty and/or the time period (which I never fully addressed for a reason). But honestly, this idea of a princess Caitlin meeting a baker Barry was too hard to resist to here it is! I hope you all enjoy this and PLEASE let me know what you think! :)