"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, toys in ev'ry store. But the prettiest sight to see, is the holly that will be on your own front door."

– It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

"This is a huge story, Inigo," Severa commented from where she lay across his lounge, not looking up from the phone in her hand. Her red hair was splayed out underneath. Until this moment, Inigo didn't even realise she'd been listening to his constant blabbering.

"I know, and I still can't believe The Regna Ferox gave it to me," The Regna Ferox was the biggest newspaper in the East, and they were trusting a lowly fitness columnist to cover a royal coronation. Was everyone else busy or something? He didn't exactly know the first thing about royalty or politics, and he couldn't see a way to make an arm-toning guide fit the piece. Although, a 'fitness regime fit for royalty' could be a fun column.

"You sound kind of miserable. What could possibly be wrong?" She was right, obviously. If he pulled this off, he was in line for a promotion and a pay rise. More importantly, this was a chance to prove he was better than an intern, or a fitness columnist.

And yet -

"I don't want to leave my dad over Christmas." He tried to hide how much the prospect troubled him. They had been virtually inseparable for the last eight years; he couldn't bear the thought of leaving him alone the coldest time of the year.

"Fear not, friend!" Owain's exclamation snapped Inigo out of his thoughts. "Henry will be in very capable hands, not to face Winter's cold grasp alone!" Inigo had honestly forgotten that Owain had been there, his usual loud demeanour dulled to a fascinated silence. It brought a small smile to Inigo's face. He didn't doubt that Owain would forget his father for even a second. "Go and pursue your brooding prince, Inigo!"

"And treat us both to dinner when you get back." He could hear the smirk in Severa's voice.

"Are you guys sure? It's a huge thing to ask, and I don't want to dampen your own holiday plans and-"

"Silence, Inigo! Henry has been a prominent figurehead in our lives since we were in diapers. It's the least we can do to repay him for his unwavering kindness!"

Inigo couldn't help the warmth that blossomed through his chest. He knew his father loved Owain and Severa. They'd spent every weekend at each other's houses for the majority of their lives.

"But anyway, what's the big deal with this prince? I thought monarchies were old fashioned."

"It's a dull story. Prince Xander of Nohr is about to be coronated as king after the death of King Garon, which apparently is a controversy since Garon's reign was horrible for the people, and no one wants his son to repeat his mistakes." Inigo huffed. He'd done hours of Google searching to try and gain a full understanding of the situation in Nohr. And then, all he really knew was that King Garon had been one of the worst monarchs in history. He was bad for the economy and bad for the people. The rumour had it that his eldest son, Prince Xander, was shaping out to fit right into his father's despicable mould.

"I almost feel bad for the sucker. Everyone's expecting him to be bad." Owain hummed, lips downturned.

"Or perhaps he is!" Severa piped back.

Inigo was just going to have to find out the truth about Prince Xander for himself.

The first thing that Inigo noticed about Nohr was that the weather was perpetually horrible. It was always cold, always snowing and always dark. He truly hated it.

Getting to Nohr had been easier than Inigo had thought it would be. There weren't even any connecting flights, just one direct from America to Europe. He hadn't gotten stopped at customs, and the flight had been smooth; he was going to check into his hotel right after the press conference. It had all been going so well up to this point. And then he reached the palace, and his luck appeared to run out, if not abandon him altogether.

Inigo wrapped the scarf tighter around his neck, fidgeting with the tassels on the end. He was sitting amongst the press outside Nohr's palace, some holding notepads, others expensive-looking cameras. An official wearing an absolutely ridiculous hat had greeted the crowd and told them that Prince Xander was going to address them within the hour with his announcement, and a press conference to follow.

That had been over two hours ago.

Many of the reporters present were by this point. Some had even gotten up and left in huffs of anger, mumbling something about an asshole of a prince never showing up. Inigo, on the other hand, was frustrated. If he was completely honest with himself he had been expecting such to happen. This prince obviously thought he was so high and mighty he could let people wait in the cold, and he was going to be the reason Inigo's story suffered.

Inigo looked down at his watch for what felt like the millionth time. The likeliness that Prince Xander was going to show up was growing slimmer and slimmer. The seconds ticking by were mocking him. He texted Owain and Severa another update, featuring some incredibly colourful language.

By now he was one of the few reporters left. Inigo could feel himself growing madder by the second. He had never been known for his patience, after all. It was abundantly clear that Prince Xander wasn't gracing the public with his awe-worthy presence. Asshole, absolute asshole.

But no, Inigo wasn't going to let some pompous prince stop him today. He stood up and stretched his aching arms before a mischievous grin crossed his face. If his article wasn't going to have any significant quotes from His Royal Pain in the Proverbial, he was at least going to score some sweet photos of Nohr's palace.

And what a magnificent castle it was. The gardens, which Inigo had been residing in for the last few hours, were grander than any botanical gardens back home. There were roses of every colour imaginable, all in neatly organised rows. The smell was divine, and Inigo wished his mother were here to see them. His eyes moved to the actual castle. It was all arches and curves, and possibly the most beautiful piece of architecture known to man. Blanketed in thick, white snow only seemed to make it glow in an angelic light.

Inigo thought it strange that there was a lack of guards around. Did they have other duties? Was keeping the public out not one of them? He swiftly moved outside the gardens and towards the first door he could see. It wasn't the front entrance- he could tell that much. He placed one gloved hand up against the knob and gave it a twist. Perhaps his luck hadn't run out, after all, the door easily opened under his nimble fingers.

It shouldn't have been possible that the inside of the castle was even more gorgeous than the outside, and yet it took Inigo's breath away. The high ceilings were adorned by crystal chandeliers that lit up every corner of the grand corridor he stood in. The carpets were a deep red, and the walls a pristine white. There were beautiful paintings of every kind hung on the walls, each in a magnificent gold frame. Inigo fumbled with his phone to take some photos.

He kept moving, needing to get as many pictures as he could before he got caught. God, he hoped he didn't get caught. Could he get persecuted for this? What did Nohr do with international criminals? They couldn't possibly still have the death sentence, right? Those thoughts left his head as he noticed a full suit of armour around the corner. He couldn't hide his boyish glee while looking at the Knights' armour. He had always loved knights as a child, and he and his father always found themselves geeking out over anything medieval. He snapped another photo, not only for his article but also to send to Henry. His dad would love this.

"Excuse me." Fuck. Panic filled Inigo's veins, his heart thumping in his chest. This couldn't have been happening. He hadn't heard footsteps coming towards him. He could have sworn the corridor was empty. He had only checked a few seconds ago!

He slowly turned around to face his certain doom. Before him was a man, probably around Inigo's age, with silver hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. He didn't look like a threat, but it was a fact universally known that looks could be deceiving. The man had a fine facial structure, complete with high cheekbones and dark lashes. If Inigo hadn't been scared out of his mind, he would have thought the man was beautiful.

"Y-yes?" Inigo stuttered. Maybe he could talk his way out of this one; pretend he didn't speak English, and he was just a lost tourist who had stumbled where he shouldn't be.

"You're Princess Elise's new tutor, correct? And you're horrifically late. Please be prompt in the future." Inigo had two options. He could correct the man, tell him that no, he wasn't a tutor for a princess. He was just a dumb reporter who was looking for a story. He could be completely truthful about the matter, and deal with the consequences of his snooping. Or-

"I'm so sorry I'm late, I promise to work harder in the future." Inigo flashed the man his award-winning smile. He hated himself. This was so clearly a horrible idea that was going to get him into some serious trouble when he was discovered, and yet Inigo found that he didn't care. Opportunity had come knocking, and who was Inigo not to open the door?

"My name is Jakob, manager of the staff at Castle Krakenburg." Jakob seemed to give Inigo a once-over, "Please tell me you have more appropriate clothing." His icy demeanour truly did suit the Nohrian climate.

Inigo gazed down. He was wearing jeans and sneakers, which he assumed were not the correct attire to be donning in the presence of royalty. He compared his attire to Jakob's. The silver-haired man was wearing a three-piece suit, not a single wrinkle in sight that was paired with immaculately polished shoes. He was truly the image of perfection, if not for his cold demeanour.

"Of course I do." He hoped the sweater and trousers he had hastily packed the prior evening would suffice.

"Then please change into them before you meet the Princess this afternoon. And forgive me, but I cannot recall your name."

He couldn't possibly give his real name. His articles were on the internet! He'd be discovered immediately.

"It's Laslow." What kind of name was that, Inigo? He stuck his hand out.

Jakob didn't shake it. "Well, Laslow, welcome to Castle Krakenburg. I hope everything goes well for you."

Oh, Inigo didn't just hope this went well. He needed it to go well.