Disclaimer: I do not own Barbie: Princess and the Pauper.
AN: So this story is thought of by retro mania, and we developed it over some messages. The title is all theirs though! Hope you guys enjoy :)
Everything should be perfect. Anneliese was happily married to Julian, Erika was married to Dominick, and both of them had stayed close friends, visiting each other often.
But Anneliese couldn't help the odd feeling she got nowadays. The last time she had felt like this was when her Mother has first announced that she was to be married to King Dominick, and then further more when Preminger had appeared at Madame Carp's to supposedly help her. She had learnt to trust that feeling, but she didn't know how to explain it.
Looking back on their lives, she had quickly realised that she was a pessimist. Erika was the optimist. Some positivity could help her life...maybe she could tell Erika. Despite the short time spent together, they had become firm friends, sympathising with each other's plight. They knew each other maybe even better than their husbands.
"Anneliese?" Julian's hand gently lay down on her shoulder. The Princess looked up, startled. "Are you okay?"
Even though they were married, not much had changed. They weren't people for public displays of affection. It was something ingrained into them from days spent knowing that Anneliese would have to marry Dominick. Anneliese hoped to change that soon. She didn't want Julian to forever think that they couldn't hug in public.
Anneliese smiled, a well-practised move. "I'm fine."
But Julian knew her better than anyone else; well, maybe with the exception of Erika. "Are you sure?"
Anneliese nodded, looking down. She hated lying to him, but she didn't want him worrying incessantly over something she wasn't even sure about. Julian needed to think about himself first before worrying about her. She could take care of herself.
There was a slight hesitation before Julian sat down. He cleared his thrust, obviously uncomfortable, but trying to seem natural. "Anneliese, you know...you know you can tell me anything, right?"
The words were halted, but the feeling behind it genuine and earnest. Anneliese smiled warmly. "Of course I do."
Julian's shoulders relaxed slightly. He dropped his hand, almost embarrassed at the attention Anneliese was giving him. Smile growing fonder, Anneliese stood up. "I'm going to see that Dominick and Erika's room is ready for their arrival tomorrow. I'll see you at dinner?"
Julian nodded. Anneliese planted a light kiss on his cheek before exiting the room. She hoped that Erika would be here soon - maybe she could help Anneliese make sense of all this.
"Erika!" Anneliese greeted, almost running down the stairs to embrace her best friend. Erika laughed, returning the hug wholeheartedly.
"Anneliese, it's great to see you again."
"How have you been?" Anneliese asked, pulling back to examine her friend. Erika looked to be in excellent health, her skin slightly tanned and eyes shining with happiness.
"I'm great!"
Dominick cleared his throat. "It's good to see you too, Anneliese. I'm fine as well, in case you wanted to know."
Erika and Anneliese turned to the King, laughing as they exchanged an amused look. Anneliese hugged him. "It's great to see you too, Dominick."
Despite the wedding, both of them had got on marvelously well. Anneliese certainly preferred Julian's more quiet and studious nature, but she thinks that she and Dominick would have gotten along. But he and Erika got on beautifully.
"King Dominick. Erika." Julian joined them. It was hard for him to remember that he was no longer a lowly tutor, but an actual Prince and future King of the kingdom.
Dominick smiled at him. "Julian. You look well."
Erika and Anneliese exchanged another look, more mischievous this time, and linked arms. "We'll be going now. Have fun!"
Before the two men could reply, the princess and queen were rushing away, giggling under their breath.
"I almost feel bad, leaving them like that." Anneliese admitted.
Erika grinned. "Don't worry, I've got a good feeling about them."
Dominick cleared his throat almost uncomfortably. He had no idea what to do in this sort of situation, particularly due to the fact that he had been engaged to Anneliese a couple of months back. It wasn't often that he didn't know what to say, but this was one of the times. Luckily, Julian didn't seem as bothered.
"Well, your highness, I can lead you to your rooms." Julian said, starting up the steps. Dominick followed quickly, relieved at the other man taking the first step, so to speak.
He looked around at the castle, having not been able to have a good look previously. He had been too busy falling in love with Erika and then trying to break her out of prison to sightsee the castle. And it was impressive.
Portraits hung on almost every wall available, framed in simple yet intricately detailed curves. He stopped at one that hung near the back, almost hidden as compared to the other portraits.
This one was of a smiling man, standing beside someone Dominick recognized as Queen Genevieve, and with one hand on a younger Anneliese's shoulder. He practically radiated kindness, and Dominick couldn't help but smile at the clear happiness between the three. He leant down slightly to look at the plaque at the bottom of the portrait.
King Radius, Queen Genevieve and the Princess Anneliese.
Hm. That was strange. He hadn't heard of a King Radius, but considering the Queen's willingness to marry Preminger, it was obvious that Radius was no longer in the picture. Dominick turned to Julian, who's expression was closed-off. Julian gestured to the hallway in the opposite direction, leading Dominick away without another word.
Dominick shot Julian's back a confused look, but figured it best to ask later. Maybe he could ask Erika to ask Anneliese – the princess would respond to Erika better than she would him.
Queen Genevieve rubbed her eyes, leaving her spectacles on the table. She approached the balcony, opening the doors and breathing in the fresh air, mingled with the sweet scent of roses. Smiling at the sight down below of Erika and Anneliese laughing together, she headed back as there was a polite knock on the door.
"Come in," she called, walking back to her desk.
The door opened, followed by a messenger boy holding a letter, which he promptly handed to her. "A letter from the Royal Kingdom of Dunswich," he announced. Queen Genevieve nodded at him, a clear dismissal, and he bowed before exiting.
Lifting a letter-opener from the desk, Genevieve sliced through the royal seal, opening it and unfolding the letter within. Nothing much that would affect their kingdom, just news of some bandits loitering about the borders. Maybe she should send some guards to look out; after all, Dominick's kingdom was their closest neighbour, and it would be in all of their best interests to take out the bandits as quickly as possible.
It was only as Genevieve returned to sit down that she realised her spectacles were not on her nose like she had expected, rather, it was still sitting patiently on the desk. She frowned, looking back at the letter's small neat printing. Under normal circumstances, those words would have been impossible for her to read. Yet she had somehow done so without the aid of her glasses.
How strange.
The doctor who had examined her a few years back had declared that short-sightedness came with old age, and while it was nothing to worry about, he wouldn't count on the Queen getting her perfect sight back. Genevieve allowed herself a smile.
Maybe after all the trouble she had been through in her life, with Radius and Anneliese, the fates had decided to bestow on her one last blessing.
But she should probably schedule an appointment with the doctor's.
Just to be sure.
Preminger scowled at his reflection in the dingy sink. To think that just several months ago, he had been royal advisor to the Queen. And now? He was a prisoner in the kingdom's own dungeons! So much for loyalty. He had slaved away for years, had been forced to keep a secret for his family's sake, and what had come out of it? His family being banished to the Outlands several decades ago.
He frowned at his reflection, grabbing a brush from the side of the sink and viciously dragging it through his tangled hair. Flinging the brush into a corner of the cell, he grabbed his stained purple ribbon and wrangled his hair into an acceptable form. Just because he was in here with the other prisoners, it didn't mean he had to lower himself to their standards.
Sighing at the hairbrush, one of his prized possessions, Preminger walked over and snatched it up, barely glancing at the hairs. Suddenly, he froze, peering closer at his brush. Where before there had only been strands of white hair, those strands were now intermixed with grey and black. How very odd.
Preminger hurried over to the dirty mirror, using his sleeve to wipe the surface. He examined his hair, peering into his reflection's strands of hair. And…indeed.
Grey, nearly black strands.
He looked down at his hands, which were still as wrinkled as ever without his ointments.
How very strange.