A vast land, motherland or romance, writers, singers, lovers and fighters. Land with the loveliest forests and meadows and the famous nectar of life and happiness, wine. The land of the cheerful, gorgeous woman at your aid, strong men to protect you and love you treat you properly.
This was the Kingdom of France.
And its king was the best you could ask for.
, Francis Bonnefoy was the twenty two years old king of France. He was always clothed in fancy garments, he was handsome and always turned heads after him. His bad side was that he was a narcissist, always self-loving and rarely giving attention around. Always bragging about his accomplishments and the people around him agreed for the hope of receiving a higher place on the social scale.
His laws were correct, but his taxes were rising every four months which did not cheer up the lower class. Nobody dared to speak a word, though.
That day the young ruler has taken a stroll through the village, disguised as a peasant to see if things were going properly. As he walked by, he noticed a group of three girls gossiping. With a smile, he walked to them and made a small bow.
"Bonjour, mademoiselles. Isn't today extraordinary?" he asked courteously, sending them one of his charming grins,
The girls just scowled, making Francis blink in confusion. Then, the shortest, placed her hands on her hips and glowered at the Francis.
"Don't try to court us! We are saving ourselves for the King's ball." she said, flipping her hair.
Francis, at first shocked, just chuckled lightly. The girls were beautiful, but they weren't his type. Oh, if they even knew. Was this how the boys in the village felt like? They probably hated him...
"Darlings, there is no need to wait for the King. He isn't sure of marriage anyway."
And it was true. Ever since his father passed away and he was no longer a prince, his mother kept insisting that he needs a wife and a heir. His sister was too young to rule the kingdom and beside, women were thought not to do the great job at ruling and creating tactics.
The girls opened their mouths to reply when the scream of a woman interrupted them. "Thief! He robbed my apples! Someone catch the thief!"
Francis threw his coat away, revealing his aristocratic outfit. The girls all gasped and tried to tell him they didn't want to insult him- But he was long gone. Running towards the woman. She pointed to an alley, sobbing and he ran towards it.
That was when he saw the figure. The man was taller and had obviously blond hair. All the years of running and training offered Francis an advantage though. He ran after the man as fast as he could and when the other took a turn, he found himself at a dead-end. Smirking, the young kind walked towards them slowly.
"As the King of France, I demand you to return those apples." he asked calmly. The man slowly turned around, chuckling. And it robbed Francis' breath.
He was very good-looking and looked more like a teen. He had golden hair, cut short and with small bangs on his left side and also a strange strand that stuck up. His eyes were a baby blue, brighter than Francis' cerulean ones. He had a muscular form and was with a head taller than Francis. But the smile...for some reasons, Francis found himself staring at him.
"King of France? Are you sure? Look at you, the wind will drift you away immediately."
There was an accent in his voice that Francis couldn't put it... From England? It did sound like it. A broken English, perhaps. Francis frowned and coughed to clear his throat.
"I am indeed the Kind of France and I do not appreciate insults! Now, sir, please hand those apples back to the lady."
"Insulting you? Nah, I was more like complimenting you. You need someone to take care of you." The man said, smirking. The apples were held securely in his arms and he didn't seem like going to respect Francis.
"I don't need someone to take care of me!" Francis declared and before he could react, the man was in front of him, staring down at him. The Frenchman swallowed, thinking he will get hit. Hey, the man was more muscular after all.
But then the unbelievable happened. Francis found a set of lips on his own which robbed a quick kiss before their owner pulled away with a satisfied grin.
"You said you are the King, huh? I've always wanted to kiss the king." He sent him a wink and ran past him with the apples; Francis was in shock. And he remained in shock for a longer time, gingerly touching his lips. He had been kissed before but...not by a man. It felt different, actually. In a good or bad way, he didn't know that.
"...Merde, I didn't take the apples back!"
Back at the castle, Francis had time to over-look the situation. That man made his heart beat faster than ever with just a kiss and a few seductive looks. Should he look for him? And what he will do if he find the man? The usual answer would be to hang him since he robbed the apples. Well, he will see when the time will come for the two of them to meet again.
A/N: First chapter is short I know! Nothing will be historical accurate because I can't fit America in this then? Let's just say he is some lost Englishman lol. Do you guys like this story?ovo~