It feels like it's been way too long since I last updated this. Hopefully I'll get better at updating quicker. My new year's resolution is to update this fic once a month. Anyway, enjoy.
Ludwig straightened up, pushing his shoulders back and raising his chin. Irina and her sister were due to arrive any minute, and he had to be prepared.
He pulled King Ivan's letter from the pocket of his dark blue tunic and scanned it quickly. Yes, they would be arriving soon.
He was standing in the foyer of Sanssouci Palace, Gilbert at his side. The visit was a casual enough one that didn't require fancy clothes or more servants, but important enough that they give them a proper welcome. It would be quite rude if only Ludwig were to greet them.
The front door swung open, and Natalya and Irina walked in. Many servants trailed after them, carrying luggage and belongings.
Irina smiled at Ludwig, rather unsure of how to greet him. She settled on a simple, "Good morning."
Irina was dressed nicely, but comfortably. Her dress had a puffy skirt but the corset was not tied to tight. The dress was made from comfortable black cotton, with an overskirt of heavy green wool, thick with intricate gold embroidery. The three-quarter sleeves had two large puffs of green wooden fabric, slit down the middle to reveal soft white lace poking out. The square neckline was heavily embroidered in gold. Her jewellery was simple as well; attached to her bosom was a silver chain, and a similar one was tied around her waist, with two tails hanging to the hem of her dress. On her wrists were silver bracelets and she wore silver hoop earrings. Her hair, as always, was in its pleated updo.
Natalya's dress was more striking, as the dark red and black fabric stood out against her pale hair and skin. The sides and back of the dress were black, with a strip of red running down the front. The red fabric was finely embroidered, a pattern of roses blossoming up in silver thread. The sleeves of the dress, which hung low, were red as well, turning to black once it reached her elbow. She wore a silver necklace and in her hair was a dark red bow.
If Irina had bothered to look, she would have seen a pink flush crawling up Ludwig's neck.
"Good morning, Irunya," he offered in response. "I'm glad you've come." He then stepped forward, a tad awkwardly, and took her hand. She offered her cheek, and he pressed his lips to it. It was the customary greeting for the betrothed in the Germanic Kingdom.
"Good morning to you too, Natalya," Ludwig said, then offered a hand to her. She shook it listlessly.
"Good morning, Gilbert. Nice to see you again," Irina smiled as she shook his hand.
"You too, Irunya. And you, Natalya." Gilbert shook hands with both the sisters.
"Your belongings are being brought to your rooms," Ludwig told them. Gilbert nodded at an attendant. The attendant scurried past, attempting to cary three trunks at once. "Would you like me to show you to them? You must be fatigued from the trip here."
"Thank you," Irina said. Indeed, they'd raised rather early to make it here by ten o'clock in the morning. Despite the lack of sleep, she'd done some thinking on the way over, and was eager to share her thoughts on the wedding with Ludwig.
Ludwig beckoned, then turned away. The sisters followed. Irina fell into step beside Ludwig and struck up a conversation, leaving Natalya to walk behind them.
Ludwig led the sisters down a familiar hallway, to the same pair of rooms they slept in the night of the betrothal.
"Well, these will be your rooms," Ludwig stated. A servant opened Natalya's door and began bringing her things inside.
"We don't get to share a room until we're married?" Irina joked, faking a disappointed voice.
"No," he responded, to which she tittered. "Are you tired, If you'd like, you can nap before we start discussing wedding plans."
"Oh, no. I don't need a nap. In fact, I have many thoughts about the wedding that I'd like to share with you. As soon as possible."
"Well, I'll take a nap," Natalya piped up, then retreated into her assigned room.
Ludwig and Irina looked at each other. "Shall I fetch the wedding planner, then?"
"Yes please," replied Irina. "Where will we meet?"
"In the medium-sized conference room," Ludwig told her. He took her hand and kissed it. They then parted.
Irina walked through the halls of Sanssouci Palace, greeting every servant and chambermaid she saw along the way. Marrying Ludwig meant being the lady of the household, and that was rather exciting. Though Irina was the eldest of her siblings, Ivan had all the power at Castle Kremlin. So she was ready to finally have a say in something.
When Irina reached the medium-sized conference room, Ludwig and the wedding planner were already there. Ludwig introduced her to him, a chubby old man by the name of Uwe. He was nice enough, but he had has own ideas that opposed what Irina wanted.
"We cannot have the wedding at sunset." Uwe shook his head. "Sunrise is best. It conveys a sense of purity and innocence. Sunset says the opposite."
"I just thought, if the wedding took place later, it would give everyone more time to get ready," Irina explained.
"Perhaps we should have the ceremony at high noon," Ludwig put in.
"Excellent idea," Irina said quickly, before Uwe could interrupt.
"High noon it is, then." Uwe jotted it down in his notebook.
"For the dinner, I'd like to include borscht," Irina said. I'm not backing down on this one, she thought.
"Beets, am I correct?" Uwe asked. Irina nodded. "Hm. Perhaps beef for the meat, then."
Irina smiled. "Sounds wonderful."
"I'll send your request to the chef. He'll prepare the menu."
"I would like to keep the party small, by the way," Ludwig said to Uwe. "The public may show up to the church, but only family and a few select noblemen should be invited here."
"With all due respect, Your Majesty," Uwe coughed, "More than a few noblemen will want to be invited."
"Well, I suppose that's too bad for them." Ludwig shrugged. Irina covered her mouth to muffle her surprised laughter.
Uwe flushed. "Whatever you wish, Your Majesty. What day should the wedding be on?"
"How does two weeks from now sound?" Ludwig asked Irina.
"Perfect," Irina responded.
"Two weeks..." Uwe muttered, scribbling. "Is that all for now, Your Majesty?"
"For now," Ludwig agreed, standing up. He offered his hand to Irina and she took it, standing up as well. "We shall reconvene when the chef develops the menu."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Ludwig gave Irina's hand a squeeze, and she realized he wanted her to say something.
"You are dismissed."
Uwe nodded, then left the room.
Ludwig turned to Irina. "Would you like to see about your dress? Elizaveta can take you to her seamstress."
"I would like that very much." Irina let a sudden burst of happiness, so she leaned forward and kissed Ludwig on the lips.
She pulled away, and grinned at his surprised expression. She walked away, and left the room, feeling her betrothed's eyes on her back.
Irina replayed the kiss in her mind as she wandered around. It had been quite nice, and Ludwig's surprise had been amusing. Her stomach fluttered for some reason. She pictured him making that surprised face after the kiss at the altar, and laughed aloud.
"Irunya!"
Irina turned around and saw Elizaveta. She smiled. "Hello Elizaveta!"
"Hello!" Elizaveta caught up with Irina and fell into step beside her. "Were you just planning the wedding."
"I was," Irina confirmed.
"With Uwe?"
"Oh, yes."
"Is he still a pain in the neck?"
"Well, yes."
Elizaveta laughed. "My seamstress can take your measurements now."
"Wonderful. Thank you." Irina smiled at Elizaveta.
Elizaveta looped her arm through Irina's and sighed happily. "Come, then."
She led Irina through staircases and twisty corridors, until they reached a room in the deep recesses of the Palace. Elizaveta knocked on the oak door, then stepped back expectantly.
The door creaked open, and upon the threshold stood an old woman. Her back was hunched, her silver hair was pulled back into a bun on the top of her head. Her blue eyes peered upwards at Elizaveta, blinking blearily behind spectacles.
"Good morning, Beate!" Elizaveta said cheerfully.
"My Lady," Beate responded, doing a clumsy curtesy. "This must be King Ludwig's bride-to-be." She turned her gaze to Irina.
"Princess Irina," Irina supplied, smiling politely. "Pleased to meet you, Beate."
"And I you, Your Highness. Now come inside, I expect we'll be a while with the measurements." Beate beckoned, then retreated into the chamber. Elizaveta followed, then Irina.
Inside the room, there were shelves packed with fabric, mirrors on every wall, a table with needles and thread. Beate bustled around, lighting lamps and pulling out a measuring tape. Elizaveta perched herself on a stool. Irina walked over to the mirror and looked at her reflection.
"Just your corset and petticoat dear, if you don't mind," Beate said, bringing over a stool for Irina to stand on.
Irina complied, and removed her layered dress. Her corset was relatively loose, her petticoat was a wisp of a thing.
"Arms up now, love," Beate commanded, and Irina did as she was told.
Beate hummed something as she measured her, a tune Irina almost recognized. She only stopped when she read Irina's bust measurement.
"Oh my," she chuckled, "I may need to buy more fabric!"
Elizaveta giggled. Irina blushed.
"Well, that's it," Beate huffed. Irina, suddenly self-conscious, was glad to get dressed again.
"You'd like blue, of course," Beate said matter-of-factly, walking over to the shelf of fabric. She grasped a bolt of sky-blue fabric with her knobbly fingers.
"With gold embroidery and accents," Irina added, arranging her jewellery.
"Certainly, Your Highness," Beate said. "Is this fabric to your liking?"
Irina walked over, rubbed the material between her fingers. "It's lovely."
"Then, unless there is anything else you require of me, I shall start making the dress."
"That is all, thank you." Irina nodded at Beate, who was beginning to measure the fabric. She beckoned to Elizaveta, and the two took their leave.
"Beate may look frail, but she works faster than any other seamstress I've had," Elizaveta told Irina. "You'll be back here for a fitting tomorrow."
"Excellent," Irina replied simply. She didn't want to admit it, but Beate's comment had rubbed her the wrong way. And Elizaveta had laughed at it, too.
"I think you're supposed to pick out your headpiece now," Elizaveta frowned, which irked Irina a bit. She wasn't a child that was to be shepherded from one location to the next. She was a queen-to-be!
"Unfortunately, only Ludwig has the key to the vault. I'll walk you there and then ask a servant to fetch him." Elizaveta smiled.
"Thank you," Irina said, instead of shouting, I can do it myself!
The vault wasn't far from Beate's quarters. It was a large stone door built into the wall and guarded by two servants.
"Could you fetch King Ludwig, please?" Elizaveta asked one. He nodded, then quickly dashed off.
"I'll leave you here," she told Irina. "I have some other things to attend to."
"Thank you for bringing me to Beate." Irina nodded at her.
"It was no trouble." Elizaveta gave a small curtsey, then left. Irina felt a slight twinge of pride when she remembered that, though Elizaveta had treated her like a child, she was still higher in rank than her.
Ludwig took a while to arrive at the vault. Irina was contemplating sitting on the stone floor, her dress be damned, when he arrived.
"Irina." He smiled, then kissed her cheek in greeting. "Have you seen about your dress?"
"Yes I have," she said. "You're going to love me in it."
"I should hope I'll love you without it," Ludwig commented. Irina laughed, surprised. "I would hate to stain it."
Ludwig unlocked the door, smirking at his own joke. Irina found this endearing.
"Feel free to choose any headpiece you like." Ludwig was back to being serious now. "As long as you like it, I will too." He pushed the heavy stone door open.
The chamber was huge, and piled with jewels and precious things. In the middle there was a path, and on either wall were shelves. The shelves were heaped with jewellery, winking and glittering in the semi-dark. Strings of pearls, gold rings, brooches, and coronets were piled on top of each other. Golden bowls and ivory dishes were filled with jewels and precious stones: diamonds, emeralds, rubies, amethysts, carbuncles, lapis lazuli. At the very back, suits of armour were lined up, watching over the treasure. On the walls were shining weapons, swords inset with rubies and the finest arrows. Heavy chests were on the floor, padlocked securely. Stray stones and jewellery lay everywhere, as if they'd been simply tossed inside; a diamond necklace hung on the tip of a spear, a topaz was stuck in a slit in a face guard.
Irina stepped in slowly, looking all around her. Her eyes were as big and as sparkly as the rarest diamond in the place.
Ludwig lit a lamp, bathing the room in soft yellow light. He walked in after her, then shut the door behind himself.
Irina touched an emerald brooch. There was so much in the room, more than was at Castle Kremlin.
Ludwig watched her with a fond smile. She picked up a silver tiara with diamonds and inspected it before carefully setting it back down. She was pretty when she was concentrating, all golden lashes and frowning mouth.
"I don't know how I can pick!" She laughed sheepishly. "There's so many possibilities."
"There's no rush," Ludwig assured her.
In the end, Irina chose a gold tiara with topaz, diamonds, and golden spikes. It looked like rays of sunlight were being emitted from her face, which was lovely.
"So, after we're married, are you going to declare war on the Baltic Kingdom?" She asked, as Ludwig was locking the vault.
"Probably, yes."
Irina sighed. "At least we have two more weeks of peace."
Ludwig nodded, feeling a peculiar sadness creep in. He felt like he was very small and very alone, which was a sort of tragedy in itself.
Several stories above them, Erika turned a doorknob slowly and slipped into a room. The curtains were drawn, but some daylight still filtered through. She stood by the bed, the bed heaped with soft pillows and lace, and smiled. Natalya matched the bed so perfectly, her pale skin and hair nestled into the white sheets.
"Natalya," she whispered. Natalya didn't stir.
"Natalya." She tried again, this time shaking Natalya's shoulder. The blankets rustled, then her eyes flickered open.
"Erika?" Natalya's voice was croaky. "What are you doing?"
"Waking you," Erika answered cheerily, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"Yes, but why?" Natalya sat up and rubbed some dust out of her eyes.
"Well," Erika began, walking over to the window. She opened the curtains forcefully. "You're going to be living here now, so you need to know your way around. And I, Erika Zwingli, am going to take you on a tour of Berlin!"
"I'm not living her permanently," Natalya mumbled, rolling over in bed. "I'll probably leave after the wedding."
"Not an excuse!" Erika singsonged, grabbing Natalya's arm. She groaned as Erika tried to drag her out of bed.
"Fine, I'll let you show me the city but can you leave while I change?"
Erika dropped her arm, grinning. "Of course."
Several minutes later, Natalya rejoined Erika outside the bedroom. She was dressed in the black and red dress from before. "So, where are we going?" She asked.
Erika waved her hand vaguely. "The Rathaus, Charlottenburg park, Alexanderplatz. Just around."
"Lead the way, then." Natalya gestured ahead of her. "Just don't get us lost."
Erika laughed. "I would never," she said, starting to walk.
Erika led her to the stables, then got her into a carriage. As they left the Palace grounds, Erika began talking excitedly; about her favourite shops, a statue in the square she wanted to show Natalya. Natalya cupped her cheek in her hand, content to listen to Erika 's commentary as the carriage rolled through the streets of Berlin.
She was surprised, then, when the carriage stopped at Alexanderplatz and Erika said, "Time to get out!"
"What?" Natalya asked. "Is there a shop you want to buy something at?"
"No," Erika said, "we're going to walk."
Natalya stared. "You're crazy."
Erika opened the carriage door. "No crazier than a princess who practises magic." She hopped out. "Are you coming?"
Natalya bit her lip. "Alright, hold the door."
Erika bounced on the balls of her feet as Natalya exited the carriage. Natalya took note of the habit.
"Come on, then." Erika took Natalya's arm and practically skipped away.
They walked. They talked. They thought not of the past, nor of the future. Time melted around them. The landmarks of Berlin fused into a blur, their only real landmarks being the flavour of the moment they lived. Natalya held a bubble of happiness in her chest, one so big it felt as if her ribcage were about to burst.
Ivan looked out the window of the carriage for probably the hundredth time. He'd been waiting at the border in the carriage for three hours, and his legs were aching. He was beginning to regret taking such a flashy carriage; every passer-by recognized him. He closed his eyes and sighed, praying for his headache to go away and for Yao to come.
"Your Majesty?" The driver called. Ivan's eyes snapped open. "A carriage with the crest of the Asian Kingdom has just pulled up."
Ivan looked out the window and saw Yao exiting his carriage. He took a deep breath; now was not the time to get nervous and flustered. He had to be calm, in control.
The side of the carriage opened and Yao climbed in. He was dressed in a beige tunic with violet accents. His hair was swept off his face neatly and tied at the side. He smelled fresh. Ivan shifted, suddenly realizing he was taking up three-quarters of the space in the carriage. He tried to move so he wasn't squished so close to Yao, but it didn't work.
Ivan glanced back at Yao. His expression was unreadable. "Don't ask me why I'm doing this," he told Ivan.
Ivan turned to the driver. "Take us to some side street, an abandoned alley. Someplace less people will see us."
"Yes, Your Majesty," the driver replied, then whipped the horses. The carriage started moving.
They travelled in silence for about five minutes. Ivan kept sneaking looks at Yao, but Yao stared ahead the entire time. When the carriage stopped on a seldom-used side street, Yao turned to face Ivan.
"Well?" Yao asked. Ivan was acutely aware of their knees touching softly. "What is there to discuss? We're enemies now, in fact I shouldn't even be here."
"Can't we be friends?" Ivan replied, then cringed at how pathetic he sounded.
"I'm doing what's best for my Kingdom." Yao's voice was slightly irritable. "Which means not being allies with you."
Ivan had expected that, though that didn't mean it didn't hurt. "So the Soviet Kingdom is really that hopeless?"
"To put it bluntly..." Yao fiddled with the end of his ponytail, not looking at Ivan. "Yes."
"I probably shouldn't even try, then." Ivan felt heat behind his eyes, then internally panicked. It had been three years since he'd shed tears in front of another, and he didn't plan on breaking that record today. He blinked a few times in quick succession. "I'm an awful King."
"No, you're a good King." Yao put his hand on Ivan's arm. Internally, Ivan cursed his fair complexion, as he was sure he was blushing. "Losing power isn't solely your fault. The Kingdom has been on a slow decline for generations."
Ivan sighed. "You're right. I just fail to understand why my Lords wanted to split."
Yao shrugged. "Power, I suppose. We all get drunk on it at some point."
"Speaking of drinks," Ivan changed the subject, "would you like something?" He opened a drawer underneath their seats. Inside were glasses, and bottles of beer, vodka, and whiskey.
"No thank you," Yao declined, and Ivan shut the drawer.
Neither spoke for a few long, painful moments. Then, Yao appeared to think of something.
"This isn't about that kiss, is it?" He asked Ivan. Ivan opened his mouth, then closed it, trying to think of how to reply.
Yao sighed. "I don't want to do this, honestly. I'm just trying to be a good King. I don't want to drag my personal life into it."
"That's what you're afraid of?" Ivan blurted. He coughed, then lowered his voice. "You're a King. It's impossible to leave your personal life out of ruling."
"I'm aware," Yao responded. "But I've already made my decision. And we're done here."
Ivan closed his eyes. "Take us back to the border," he told the driver.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The five minutes it took to get back felt like five years to Ivan. He was wrong about Yao liking him, and he felt foolish. He wanted to smack some sense into the butterflies in his stomach, but they fluttered anyway.
When they arrived back at the border, it was less busy. There were fewer pedestrians, fewer carriages. Ivan glanced forlornly at Yao's carriage, waiting for him patiently.
Yao drew the curtains on the window, then spoke. "Don't take this the wrong way, but... You seem like more trouble than you're worth." He leaned in and kissed Ivan on the cheek.
Then he left, and Ivan was on his own in the carriage with the feeling of Yao's lips lingering on his cheek.
Ivan sat in silence for a minute, then opened the drawer and took out a bottle of vodka and a glass. "Back to Moscow," he told the driver.
The carriage started moving again, and Ivan tried to pour some vodka into the glass. The carriage shook too much, so most of the vodka spilled on the velvet cushion. Ivan gave up and took a sip straight from the bottle.
Eduard's fingers drummed on the desk in front of him. He was starting to feel useless around here - he hadn't seen Raivis all day, and Toris and Feliks were busy editing the speech.
He scowled at the thought of Feliks. Raivis might say his suspicion of Feliks was irrational, but Eduard wasn't quite so sure. What kind of person splits from their Kingdom to elevate their status? If Feliks wanted to be a Prince, he could have married Erika. Hell, he could have married Vash.
No, there was some sort of unscrupulous greed about him. That, or he wanted to spite Ludwig.
Either way, those traits weren't desirable at all in a leader. But of course, Toris had unofficially appointed Feliks Director of Public Relations, so his word was law. No one cared what Eduard had to say about the matter, so long as Feliks gave his opinion.
Eduard stood, pushing his chair back with slightly more force than was necessary. Restless, he left the room and began wandering the halls of Castle Kaunas.
He hadn't gotten very far at all - perhaps only a few hundred metres - when he heard voices.
"It's not manipulation, not really." It was Feliks' voice, coming fro just around the corner. Eduard popped into a nearby room, shut the door, and peered through the keyhole.
"As long as it works, everyone is happy, right?" Feliks was saying, as he rounded the corner with Raivis. Raivis looked nervous and a little uncomfortable.
"Yes, I know," Raivis sighed. Momentarily, Eduard was distracted by the gold of his hair when the sun it it just right. "I'm generally anxious, that's all. I don't know what to do! Should I just-" he bit his lip- "say it?"
"Spend more time with him." Feliks' tone was soothing. "You've known each other for a long time, I'm sure you'll know what will work. Agree with him as much as possible, yet subtlety guide him in the right direction. And don't be afraid to drop hints."
Eduard furrowed his brows, confused and a little horrified. Manipulation? What were they planning?
"Thank you so much, Feliks," Raivis said gratefully.
"You're welcome," Feliks replied, then they parted. Eduard was left standing in the room, alone and confused.
Eduard rubbed his chin. Feliks wouldn't be telling Raivis how to manipulate Toris, would he? No, Eduard was sure Feliks was already trying to manipulate Toris. Which left him.
He gasped as the thought occurred to him, anger and hurt rolling in and throbbing through his body.
They're going to try to get rid of me.