Hi there! This is Nora here :D. This is my first fanfiction EVER! So please be gentle; I'm new :3. I'm going to try very hard to finish this! So thank you for your patience reader3.
Also, I love this pairing. Tsunderes are so adorable to me :D.
OK ENJOY!
Oh! Also some notes on the French used:
Connard: Jerk
Salaud: Bastard
Correct me if I'm wrong in any way :3.
Sovereignty
CHAPTER 1: Introducing his highness.
Arthur Kirkland is a man renowned throughout all of Britain, and possibly the world. Known as one of the only remaining and most powerful of aristocrats in England, surely you'd think a man of such nobility would be one of the kindest of gentlemen. Unfortunately, he's the exact opposite ... towards me, anyway. I'm Seychelles, and I have the dishonor of being one of his "women of the court" as he proclaims; but I feel like a god forsaken slave! Yes, I was taken into the Kirkland household to be one of the court's women and all, but Arthur sees it rather humorous to have me complete the tasks of a servant. He summons me into his quarters everyday and orders me to perform tasks such as cleaning the main hall or preparing a hot bath for him… things of that sort.
And whenever I try to object, he always states this one line ...that damned line, "Just remember who got you here in the first place, Ms. Seychelles" and flashes one of his signature smirks. That line has stirred a hatred in me like no other. I just become so irate... god damn that Connard! I'll get revenge on him... someday. But for now, all I can do is listen obediently and take his orders with somewhat of a smile.
Although there are times when I do enjoy his company; rare are these moments, mind you. For instance, when I catch him sitting alone on his balcony sipping tea. The way his distant gaze looks upon no where in particular... and looking into those gorgeous emerald eyes that enthrall me so... I secretly admire his eyes. They're just so.. captivating. I could spend all eternity staring into them...until he says something like, "Ms. Seychelles, it's impolite to stare. Haven't the years of training from the best etiquette teachers in London done you any good? Such a shame," in that sarcastic voice of his.
I swear upon my ancestors' graves, the man is a sadist. He will take any opportunity to put me down or see me reduced to tears. When I look up from those tears, I see a smirk; as if satisfied from my despair. He is a Salaud, I tell you, and nothing more! I feel pity towards the woman he is to marry someday. That poor girl.