Adrien Agreste never strayed from his father's wishes. Ever. As the prince of Parisielle, he felt as though he had a duty to fulfill. After all, he was going to be the heir to the crown for the country. Everything his father said, goes.
"Adrien, you will be taking piano classes. Adrien, your Chinese tutor will be here tomorrow morning. After that, you have fencing. Make sure you're on time."
That was about all his father ever said to him. It was order after order, always with a don't disappoint me look tacked onto the end of each sentence directed towards him. Adrien never minded; he had always thought it was part of his job to learn all these things to rule the kingdom properly in the future. The only thing he wished, and he never, ever, dared to voice it to his father, was to have more time with him.
Gabriel Agreste was never around the castle much, always bustling around, sorting through papers, attending ceremonies and discussing business overseas. It was rare to have the king in the castle, and even more rare to see him wandering around the halls, as Gabriel would usually coop himself up in his room when he was home. Sometimes, if Adrien was lucky, his father would walk past thebedroom, and Adrien would hear his passing footsteps, causing him to sprint to the door to catch a glimpse of the king's retreating figure.
It was a feeble attempt, but nevertheless, Adrien continued to try and find ways to see his father. His only friend in the castle was the count,Nino, who was granted the permission to accompany Adrien, after much insistence from the young prince following his being rescued by Nino from an attacking bandit. Nathalie, trusted advisor of the king, managed both Gabriel and Adrien's schedules, and was the closest thing to a mother figure Adrien could get. His mother had disappeared from the castle seven years ago, when Adrien was only ten. It was rumored that she had gone to taken a walk, and she never returned. At the age of seventeen, memories of the Queen were hazy, a blur of a smiling woman blinking back at him whenever he tried to imagine her. He couldn't say he didn't miss her, but it was difficult to conjure sadness when he had barely any recollections of his mother.
His long hours of continuous lessons left little time for him to think, much less feel lonely. When he had free time, if any at all, before collapsing into bed, he spent it reading a novel, stroking his black cat, Plagg, who purred contently under Adrien's touch.
Attention was not somethingAdrien got much of from his father, but lots of it were tossed his way whenever he went out of the castle in his carriage. Many young girls of the town swooned when he walked by their village, fanning their faces as he strode past them gracefully. Adrien Agretse was always polite, nodding to the villagers, but mostly looking forward at the horizon sky ahead of him.
Sometimes, he would image that his mother was never really gone. Instead, he thought of her as walking too far into the horizon, so far that the naked eye could not see her, just slightly out of sight. He dreamed that one day he'd walk far enough and he would be able to see a small shape on the edge of the land, twirling, waiting for him. It was just a dream, however. A wisp of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find his mother, and maybe, his father would acknowledge him some more. To look at him, and accept him as a son. Adrien had done nothing but obey his orders, but Adrien couldn't help but wonder if his father blamed him for his mother's disappearance.
The prince remembered the night she disappeared, though not clearly. He remembered it was warm, and the sky was filled with stars; it was peaceful … until he realized it was eerily quiet. There were no sounds of animals outside, no noise coming from, well, anywhere.
Adrien sat up in bed, looking around. There was nothing that could be heard. He tiptoed out from under his covers and opened his door, peering out around the corner. No one was around. The small boy crept to his parent's room, and saw the door was ajar.
"Mother? Father?" he whispered, but no response greeted him.
Adrien walked into the room and crawled onto the large bed, watching his father sleep. He patted the uneven blankets on his mother's side, but she was not lying there like she was supposed to be. It was still warm.
The young prince reached out, as if to touch his father's face, like he had so many years ago, but before his fingers made contact, his father grunted and shifted, rolling over onto his side. Adrien blinked, then slid off the tall bed, landing with a muted thud on the floor.
Padding towards the castle doors, he put on his shoes, and tried to tie his shoelaces, but they ended up in a big knot. Normally, Nathalie helped him with his shoes. Putting them aside, he opened the glass frame leading to the garden. He didn't know why he walked out to the garden; call it intuition. His mother was there; he just knew it.
A muffled cry was heard from his right, and Adrien turned to look. A dark figure stood there, hunched over a smaller form.
"Mother?"
The larger shape raised its head. Adrien's bright green eyes didn't look at the cloaked person. He gazed at the small figure hidden in the shadows. It wasn't trembling, like it was scared. On the contrary, it seemed … confident. Their pose was straight, head turned.
Looming, Adrien didn't even notice the big shape emerge behind him. The woman, much too far for him to see her face, uttered a single word.
"Adrien."
That was the last thing he remembered before everything went black.
xxx
"En garde!"
The clash of fencing swords was heard from across the courtyard. Adrien expertly moved his feet and disarmed his partner, tapping the opponent's shoulder. The defeated foe stumbled and fell, freezing for a moment before laughing and taking off his mask, revealing a grinning Nino.
"Amazing, sir," Nino praised, taking the hand Adrien offered and hoisted himself up.
"Think nothing of it, Nino," Adrien smiled, "Your swordplay was excellent."
"Thank you, sir,"
The two young men chuckled, and was about to head back to the castle, when a butler approached Adrien, bowing before looking at the prince.
"Your father wishes to see you, sir."
Adrien's eyebrows shot straight up.
"My father?" he asked tentatively.
The butler gave a curt nod, "He is in his study, and expects you to be there promptly."
The prince fidgeted with his fencing stick, biting his lip. What could his father want to see him for?
"Do you know what my father would like to speak to me about?" he inquired, almost afraid of the answer.
"I believe it is about the topic of your engagement, young sir."
Adrien's stomach sank. He exchanged a look with Nino, who returned a withering expression. Engagement? Surely, he was still too young? He was seventeen, which was acceptable to be married, but he wasn't ready! He didn't want to settle down with just some random girl, someone he would have to be with the rest of his life, looking over the kingdom.
The butler cleared his throat, reminding Adrien that his father was waiting.
"Tell my father I will be with him shortly," Adrien instructed, and the butler bowed again before exiting the courtyard.
As soon as he was out of sight, Adrien slumped and dropped his head.
"Nino, whatever will I do?" he groaned, and Nino placed a supportive hand on his friend's shoulder.
"There's nothing to be done, sir –"
"I've told you countless times to call me Adrien." The prince grumbled, disgruntled.
Nino laughed, "That won't do, sir. I've already told you countless times that I am merely a count, I cannot address you by your name."
Sighing heavily, Adrien straightened up.
"Suit yourself," he tossed over his shoulder as he began to head back to the castle to change and meet his father.
Nino just grinned and jogged alongside Adrien, holding open the gates for him.
"I don't want to get married at this time. It's not right. I still have so many things I would like to explore. I have yet to master archery, never rode a horse, never gone swimming outdoors, and," Adrien's voice dropped down low, "I never got the chance to look for my mother."
Nino was the only one who knew of Adrien's thoughts concerning his mother. No one else knew the prince thought his mother had wandered past the castle horizons, living as a civilian. He desperately wished that nothing bad had happened to her on that warm night, the night she disappeared. He blindly believed that such a strong posture of confidence could not be broken. She had looked so sure of herself, and to this day, the only thing he carefully ingrained into his head was the way she had spoken his name. Gently, carefully, like he was a fragile piece of glass that would break if anything harsher than loving would break him.
Adrien quickly threw his fencing clothes into the hamper for the maids to collect, and rushed out the door, taking the staircase two at a time, before skidding to a stop in front of his father's study. Breathing heavily, he smoothed his shirt, catching his breath, before knocking on the door.
"Come in," came the reply, and Adrien was thrown off again by how crisp the voice was.
He pushed the door open and stepped into the room, shutting the wooden frame and facing his father. Gabriel had his back to Adrien, looking out the window, hands clasped behind him.
"Sit," was the command, and Adrien complied.
A few moments passed before his father turned, the sun shining through his hair and golden crown, casting a faint gleam across the floors, flickering by Adrien's feet. His eyes were momentarily distracted by the light, until his father made a quiet sound of impatience. Adrien's irises snapped back to his father's colder ones, firm and authoritative, showing him worthy to be king. His father was once handsome. He, of course, was still handsome, but had lost most of his charm when his mother disappeared. Grey hair began to sprout and his grimace deepened into his face until it looked like a permanent engraving onto his visage. The gentle look was gone, replaced with one of somber contempt.
"You are now seventeen, Adrien."
The prince flinched.
"Yes, father."
A pause.
"It is about time you find yourself a wife," he said, and Adrien sucked in a breath.
"I –"
"Chloe Bourgeois. She's the princess of the neighbouring kingdom. I'm sure you've heard of her."
Chloe? The girl that visited and clung onto me like a ragdoll? "Yes, father. I have."
"I believe she would be a good match for you, and a fine queen to take over the kingdom."
Adrien couldn't believe his ears. Chloe? A queen? Granted, she has the status (something she made sure everyone knew), and he hasn't seen her in six years, so he didn't know how she acted now, but if she was anything like the way she was before, there was no way the kingdom would benefit. He couldn't let that happen, he had a responsibility. He liked her enough, though she was a little pushy, but he couldn't see himself engaged, much less married, to her.
"Father, I …" Adrien hesitated, "I disagree."
Gabriel's face remained unchanged, but his surprise could be easily seen by the way he took a small step back and pulled on his suit jacket, ridding it of its non-existent wrinkles.
"And why is that, Adrien?"
The boy swallowed. He had never gone against something his father wanted. What his father says, goes. That was always the rule. He realized, however, he no longer wanted to follow that rule, at least in this situation. Adrien clenched his hands into fists, and looked Gabriel in the eye. It was now or never.
"I believe I should find a wife that I think to be worthy to stay by my side. There should be no problems, father, you know I will choose well."
The older man gazed at his son.
"Do I?"
It was a challenge. Gabriel went on before the boy could reply. "You do understand, of course, that a necessary requirement for the one you choose to betroth is for her to be royalty? She would, of course, need to have royal blood to live as one of us."
Adrien frowned.
"I don't imagine that it would need to be a requirement."
Gabriel raised his eyebrows. "No? You expect to settle for someone of a lower status than yourself, Adrien? I believe I have taught you better than that."
At that, the young boy bristled. Taking a breath, he tried to reason with his father.
"There are many women who are worthy to be queen, not through status, but through strength, and will. Women such as those do not necessarily belong to the royal class."
The king was quiet, observing his son. It was strange, having this obedient boy suddenly go against his wishes. He would have thought it to be frustrating, if he had not find it so … amusing. He decided to humour his son, seeing where he would take his ridiculous notion that anyone less than royalty would be able to be fit for a queen.
"What do you suggest?"
Adrien almost reeled back, surprised at his father's openness. He had expected an immediate decline, but instead, he was now presented with a way out. What to do …?
"How about a ball?" Adrien blurted out.
"I'm sorry?"
The prince flushed. He had no idea where the idea came from, but he had to stay composed.
"A ball. Let us hold a ball, and invite all the ladies of this country, whether they be of royal blood, or not at all. I will find a girl among them that I will want to marry. When that happens, father, I shall bring her to you and show her she is worthy to become a queen."
Adrien took a breath, and waited for the response. After what seemed like ages, his father gave a curt nod.
"Very well," he said, and Adrien let out the breath he held. "I will inform Nathalie to deliver letters to the homes of all the ladies in the country. The ball will take place a week from now. I expect you to be prepared."
"Yes, father, of course. Thank you."
Gabriel turned back to his window, and Adrien took that as a sign of him being dismissed. Before he could reach the door, however, his father's voice cut across the silence.
"One more thing, Adrien."
The prince faced Gabriel again, but the king was not looking at him.
"If you do not find a girl worthy of running this kingdom at the ball …" Gabriel trailed off, and Adrien heard the warning tone hidden in the unspoken words.
"I will find one, father. Don't you worry."
With that, Adrien excused himself and exited the room. Gabriel gazed out into the courtyard, and watched as his son appeared, grabbing the count and dragging him towards the garden.
"A worthy queen without a royal bloodline …" he murmured. "An interesting thought, indeed."
