So due to popular demand, I have decided to turn this into a multi-chapter fic! Chapter One is the same one that I put in with my "One Night with the Prince" collection of stories. I have left it in One Night with the Prince, and when I update it I will add a note to this story.

A little background for you guys who haven't read Chapter One already! This is a Reign-style fic, like real royals back in the 15th and 16th century kind of stuff. I will try not to get OOC, but a few things will change. There will be plotting, and intrigue, and sexy times...so yeah.

I won't keep you guys waiting any longer! Enjoy! :)


I smoothed my dress anxiously, worried that the carriage ride had wrinkled my gown. The last thing I wanted was to look like a disaster at court.

"America, darling, you look beautiful," my father said from across the carriage. He didn't understand my uneasiness with this journey. It wasn't like I had told me. It had been a long guarded secret. I was the only member of my family to come with my father to court this time. My older sister had just had a baby, and my mother and younger sister had to stay behind to help. My youngest brother was too young for court, which meant it was just me and my father.

Lord Shalom Singer was the Lord of Carolina, a small but once moderately wealthy region in the kingdom of Illea. He was loved by his constituents, but often overlooked by the King and the higher Lords for his lack of wealth. Our region had been one of the ones to suffer the most after the war because we were on the coast. We were rebuilding, slowly coming back to the grandeur that our family name one held. My father worked so hard at bettering the world for his people.

He had come to court to negotiate with the other noblemen while they celebrated Illea's founding. It was expected that we attend, as all the nobles were invited. My father invited me to come along, so that maybe I would have the chance to meet a husband. I was at the age to be married, and I had a duty to my family. I had just turned seventeen, and the only gift I received was jewels and new dresses to wear to court so I could entice men. I was beautiful, or so I had been told. I could marry someone higher than my rank, which would help my family obtain the connections they desperately needed.

Too bad that the man I was in love with was someone I could never have.

"As soon as we get out things settled, change into one of your new dresses, and I'll come for you. I will take you to court with me and introduce you to the nobles you don't already know. Get Lucy and Mary to help you. You need to look your best."

"Shouldn't she help you, father? I only need Lucy."

"I'm going straight to court. I have a quick meeting with Lord August. After Mary puts my things in my room, she will come to help you."

I nodded my head, watching as the palace loomed in front of me. There would be nobody to greet us except the head housekeeper, which I could see waiting with two butlers. We weren't high enough up for anything else. Part of me had hoped he would be waiting nearby, but he was probably busy. Men like him always were.

My father helped me down out of the carriage, and I waited for Lucy and the others to get out of the servant's one. Lucy flashed me a small smile, coming to stand beside me.

"It's a beautiful castle, mi Lady."

I nodded my head. I had been here only four months before. Our entire family had stayed for two weeks on our way back from visiting relatives in the Kent Province. My cousin Marlee was my best friend, and besides our yearly visits to each other, we could only write to one another. She would be arriving in two days time if they didn't run into any complications on their journey.

There had been no one hardly at the palace last time I was here. In fact, the King was out on a hunt last time we had been here. I had never met the man, but I heard from father that he was dreadful. He was polite to only those who were of use to him at the moment. Who I had met though, who I had spent almost every day while I was here with, was nowhere to be seen.

The butlers led us to our rooms in the west wing of the castle. The royal family lived in the east wing, but I was surprised when they put us in a pair of rooms that were some of the closest to their side. My father didn't question it, probably because we were some of the first to arrive for the celebration. I wondered though. We weren't in the closest rooms, but we were right next to them. Most of the higher nobles stayed in these, and we certainly weren't that.

I walked into my room, and before I had a chance to breathe and look around, Mary came strolling into the room. Then, it was a flurry of things I hated: changing out of my traveling gown to my brand new silk one, tightening my corset to an almost unbearable point, touching up my make-up, and finally them snatching and braiding my hair. We chatted while they worked, but my mind was elsewhere.

I kept going over the stolen kisses and touches. How a man I thought would never be my type, that he would be stuck up, arrogant, and cruel, just like his father, was the complete and utter opposite. At first, we were just friends. He had to decide on a wife soon, and he was worried. He didn't know how to navigate around women, so I helped him. After a few days, this feeling came over me. I thought I was falling for him, and I couldn't let myself. He was out of my reach, soon to be engaged to a woman who was worthy of his title. But then he kissed me. It was the first time I had ever been kissed. He was so adorable, apologizing and saying that he shouldn't have done that, that I was a Lady who deserved better than reckless affection. He was worried he had violated our friendship, and he kept saying he didn't want to lose me. I was in shock. Before I stopped myself, I asked him if he would do it again. He looked at me with wide eyes, asking why I would want that if I did not care for him that way.

I told him that I had fantasized about him doing that for days now.

It was the start to something wonderful. We had spent many hours together, but after that, we were near inseparable. Before I left, he promised me that he was going to find a way for us to be together. He wrote me for two months after we left, and I fell deeper and deeper in love with him. We had to keep it a secret, so he used a different name on the letters: Calix. But for the past two months, I hadn't heard from him.

Was it simply a crush? Had he forgotten about me? Had I been a game for him to play, and was I naïve enough to think he honestly cared for me? He never asked to go further than we had, never tried to push himself on me. In fact, he was the one who had shown restraint. My hand ventured to my lips, the memory of his taste still there. Maybe he didn't care if I was back at court or not. Maybe he had found someone else to marry, someone far prettier and with a higher title.

I walked over to the mirror, examining my reflection. I had filled out just a little more since the last time I had been here. All my dresses had to be taken out to accommodate my growing chest. To be honest, I felt like I was busting out of my dress. I wish they would have left my corset a little looser, but I'm sure they were on my father's orders. I looked tempting but demurely so. The dress was a beautiful cream shade that made me look sort of angelic. My hair was half up, the strands silky and slightly curled at the ends. Mary had placed a jeweled headband into my hair, along with a simple yet expensive necklace at the base of my throat. I looked like a lady of court should look: sophisticated and regal.

"America?"

I turned at the sound of my Father's voice, taking a deep breath. He offered his arm to me, and we began to walk the halls to the throne room.

"You look stunning. Any man would be lucky to have you," he smiled. I nodded my head, the lump in my throat and the pain in my chest becoming worse with every step. My mother warned me of heartbreak, and I didn't realize how terrible it would be. I needed to be rational. He could never be with me, so I needed to forget it and move on, as it seemed he had.

"Thank you, father."

"America?" We stopped in the hallway, and I turned to face my father. His expression was sad, his eyes crinkled from the stress of his position. I wanted to help him, and I could do that by entering into a good marriage. He placed his hand on my cheek, sighing deeply. "Before we go in, there is something I want you to know. I would never- I could never - give you away to someone who you did not approve of. I want you to find love, my child. I don't want you to marry a man who did not deserve you just to help us. Do not make your choice of husband alone with only the family in mind. Make it with your heart as well."

I could feel the tears stinging the back of my eyes. Most fathers wouldn't give their daughter's opinions a second glance. As long as he had a title and was a decent man, they would wed them off. It meant more than anything that my opinion mattered to my father so deeply.

"I promise," I whispered softly.

We walked towards the throne room, the early evening light glittering through the windows. I could hear the page announce us, and it took every bit of my control to keep my face pleasant. I barely remembered to curtsy to the King and Queen.

Because there he was, standing right in front of me with that adorable smirk that made my stomach flutter wildly.

Prince Maxon Schreave.

He was just as I remembered him. The same tanned skin and warm blond hair, with eyes that reminded me of melted chocolate. He was well built, evident from his training as a swordsman and an archer. He wore a navy blue tunic, tied at the waist with a leather band. A jeweled swag hung across his chest, a golden crown perched atop his head. He was standing by his mother, Queen Amberly. On her other side, seated on his throne, was King Clarkson. He had Maxon's brown eyes, but they lacked the warmth of his son's.

"Lord Singer, it is a delight to see you. And Lady Singer! I've heard tales of your beauty, but it was hard for me to imagine them from the little girl I had known before. I am happy to say that the tales do not do you justice. You are absolutely more exquisite than they say."

"Thank you, your majesty," I replied humbly. I knew Maxon's eyes were on me, but I didn't dare met them.

"Lord Singer, I will expect you to be at the meeting tomorrow with the other Lords who have arrived. Do you have any urgent matters of state that cannot wait?"

My father began conversing with the King, but I simply clasped my hands and stared at the floor. If I looked into his eyes, I would get sucked in, and I had to let go of him. I had to move on. I would never be able to marry Maxon. He was the Prince. Rumor was that he was soon to be engaged to a Princess in France. It would establish a Peace treaty the country needed. I assumed that was why he had stopped writing me. After all, I was a lowly Lord's daughter. I would be lucky to marry a Duke or Earl.

After my father was done talking to the King, I mingled with him among the nobles, greeting the ones I did know and meeting the ones that I didn't. Court was such a tedious thing. I didn't recognize any of the women. None of them were close to my age, and the men here were far older than I had hoped to marry. I stayed quietly at my father's side, being the dutiful daughter I had to be, as much as I detested it. I spoke when I was supposed to, gave charming smiles to the Lords and Ladies. All the while, I could feel his eyes on me, following me as he stood by his parent's thrones. I needed to get away. I wanted to do something, to go riding or walk around the gardens. My father must have sensed my distress because he bent down to whisper in my ear.

"You don't have to stay," he whispered gently. "I wouldn't want you to marry any of these men, would you?"

"No," I agreed, relieved to hear my father say that.

"There will be more here tomorrow, and this business will bore you. Go, dear one."

I gave my father a quick peck on the cheek. I walked out of the throne room, my original intention to go back to my room to take a nap. I could at least get this horrid corset off of me, but as I passed by the window, the smell of fresh flowers overtook me. I walked out into the garden, taking the paths that seemed less traveled. I came to the river that ran through the property, to my favorite oak tree that leaned over the water.

I had spent so many hours here talking to Maxon. I ran my hand across the bark, feeling the roughness of it underneath my fingertips. I closed my eyes, lost in the memory of our time together.

"I knew I would find you here."

My whole body tensed up. The sound of his voice was enough to do that to me. I turned to see Maxon leaning against another tree, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

I immediately dropped into a bow, dipping my head from those mesmerizing eyes. "Your highness."

"So it's your highness now?" he observed as he started to walk towards me. I nodded my head, trying to keep my face blank. "Why the formality?"

"I thought that formality would be best," I murmured. I couldn't tell him what I was feeling. It felt so childish, so overwhelmingly intense. I looked at the ground, worried that I wouldn't be able to hide it. But then he was there, his warm hand lifting my chin to meet his gaze.

"Did I offend you? Did you find someone else? Is that why you stopped writing me?" he wondered anxiously. I stepped away from him, my breath hitching in my chest. He thought I had stopped writing him?

"No, no, your highness-"

"Maxon. Call me Maxon, please," he pleaded as he gently grabbed my shoulders. I balled my fists together, trying to keep my hands from grabbing his waist like I wanted to.

"Maxon," I whispered. My mouth was dry. The feeling of having him this close was both painful and extraordinary. "No, you haven't offended me. I haven't met anyone." My words began tumbling out. I could stop the flood of my feelings, all the fear and doubt that had grown inside of me the last few weeks. "I only stopped after I had received nothing from you for weeks." He pulled away slightly, his hands dropping as he looked at me with a pained expression. "I-I thought…I heard the rumors that you were engaged," I explained, my voice thick. The pressure behind my eyes was building, and the first tear spilled over and down my cheek. "And I'm sure she's a beautiful girl, and I understand, I really do. It was the easiest way to end things-"

But I never got to finish. Maxon took my face in his hands, crushing his lips to mine in earnest. All my resolve vanished. My hands wrapped around his waist, gripping into his tunic like my life depended on it. He tasted just as I remembered, just as sweet. This kiss was rougher, more hurried than any we had shared before. His tongue danced across my lips, plunging into my mouth with a searing need that mirrored my own. He pressed me up against the oak, the bark pressing roughly into my back, but I didn't care. His hands were so gentle while stroking my cheeks. The way his body pressed against mine was heavenly. There was nothing domineering about the gesture. It felt as if he needed to be a part of me, that maybe he missed me just as much as I had missed him.

Maxon slowly pulled away, placing a soft kiss on each of my cheeks. He stared in my eyes, brushing the tears that had escaped from my cheeks. He rested his forehead against my own, and I closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of him.

"America, I have thought of you every minute since you left me. I've written you almost every day. When did you stop receiving my letters?"

"About two months ago," I murmured. "I wrote a few times after the last, but then I heard the rumors and I stopped. I assumed that's why you had stopped."

"That is when I stopped receiving yours," he sighed. "America, I'm so sorry. I didn't know that you weren't receiving my letters. If I had known, I would have come to visit you. The rumors aren't true exactly. My father does want me to marry the Princess of France, for some peace treaty, and I am trying so hard to fight it. I don't want to marry her; I don't love her. I wrote on and on trying to explain, but you never responded. I was terrified that once you had heard that…that maybe you had moved on." His voices sounded ragged, and in that moment, I realized that he had missed me just as much as I had missed him. He was in just as much pain as I was.

"There will never be anyone besides you," I whispered. Maxon pressed his lips against mine, so reverently and sweetly that I fell to pieces in his arms. He supported me, holding me so close that I could feel every glorious inch of him despite our clothes being in the way. I longed for him, craved for his skin against my own. My thoughts frightened me. There was nothing, nothing that I wouldn't do for this man.

"I feel the same way. Please believe me. I never stopped writing you, and my feelings have not changed. I will find out why you were not receiving my letters," he vowed as his lips ghosted across my own. "I want you, America. I meant ever word I told you when you were last here. I love you. I need you, like I need air to breathe. You know the real me, the man behind this stupid crown. You never cared that I was the Prince. Please, please, don't give up on me. I will find a way for us to be together. I promise. That is, if you will still have me."

I couldn't doubt that he spoke the truth. He looked so hopeful, so hesitant in asking, as if he was worried that I would say no. I learned forward, placing my lips on his cheek.

"If my Prince desires it," I responded playfully. He took my hand, kissing the back of it before pulling me off further into the gardens.


What did you think? Good? Bad? Could you feel the tension?