"Amy?"
Ian frowned in concern, clearing his throat with a rap of his knuckles against her door. She hadn't shown up to dinner (to his disappointment), so he thought he might check on her and bring her something to eat.
"Amy, are you in there?" He called, his tone swelling with urgency.
"Just a second!" He heard a muffled reply, flinching at the sound of her presumably tripping on the carpet moments later.
Ian composed himself, straightening his back, awkwardly clutching a silver tray laden with food. He couldn't recall ever serving someone food, or let alone holding a tray. Servitude did not suit him well (but he would wear it for her).
The door swung open, and Amy emerged, smoothing down her mane of slightly disheveled red curls. "Oh my goodness, I accidentally slept through dinner, I'm so sorry," she blurted apologetically with her eyes widened.
"I understand, being kidnapped would exhaust anyone," Ian chuckled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Amy giggled, cocking her head slightly to the side. She regarded him playfully. "Ian Kabra, did you just make a joke?" Amy pulled the door open, gesturing for him to enter.
"Don't tell anyone," he replied with mocking seriousness, setting down the tray on Amy's bedside table. "You must be hungry, and I don't know what you like so I brought some of everything."
"Thank you, you didn't have to go through all that trouble," Amy smiled, tenderness in her gaze.
"It was no trouble," Ian declared, thrusting his hands into his pockets.
"Are you going to keep me company as I eat my way through this assortment?" Amy asked, sitting down on her bed, eyes full of mirth.
"If you'd like," Ian responded with a glint in his own, trying to ignore the spurt of pleasure in his stomach. He sat down on a love seat across from her, hands clasped between his knees as he watched her take a few bites of roasted vegetables.
"Did you have the letter sent to my family?" Amy inquired, her voice momentarily faltering at the utterance of the word 'letter' as her mind flashed back to a different time, when her days had revolved around letters.
"Ah, yes, it should be there soon," Ian nodded, "hopefully it'll quell their worries".
"Hopefully," Amy agreed, taking a sip of the sparkling rose wine. "Would you like some?" The queen held out her goblet, her offering innocently courteous but inadvertently placing the King in a difficult position.
Ian tightened his lips, the headache that had plagued him all day seeming to amplify with the offering of alcohol. He wanted some. He wanted some so fucking bad, bloody hell.
"I'm alright, thanks," he muttered, and Amy shrugged, placing the goblet back on her bedside table.
"Can we talk about negotiations tomorrow, then?" Amy crossed her legs, a newfound intensity colonizing her demeanor as she departed from being just Amy, and became Queen Amy.
"I have to sit with parliament until sundown," Ian hastily responded, running a hand through his hair, "and there's meant to be a party in the evening".
"A party?"
"You're invited, naturally, if you would like to come".
"Okay, so we can talk at the party!" Amy beamed, and Ian groaned in response to the smirk she wore.
"I suppose we can," he murmured, running a hand through his hair.
The pair fell into a comfortable silence. Ian drank the girl in, the alluring curve of her lips, the hints of red in her coppery hair, how her cloud of lashes cast shadows across her cheeks.
Ian pictured a different world. One where the two of them could've shared a moment like this, a moment seemingly unremarkable but unexplainably blissful, but she might've been his. Not near him because she had been forcibly brought to his presence, but because she couldn't leave his side.
Amy dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. "Thank you again for bringing me dinner," Amy smiled as Ian rose to leave.
"My pleasure," Ian bowed, lowering his gaze. "Don't sleep through the party tomorrow!"
"Oh, stop, I won't," Amy grinned playfully.
"Good night, Ian."
"Good night, love."
Amy resisted the need to twirl in her Lucian made gown. Back home, dresses were pretty but stiff, held up by corsets and a sense of decorum. Here, people dressed to accentuate every curve of their bodies, the corsets were replaced with tight sashes and the and the heavy tulle was replaced by lightweight silk, fashion being the linchpin of social expression amongst all walks of society.
The palace employed the most expert tailors in the land and they'd had a selection of dresses already made for Amy to choose from. Ian had sent Nataliya into Amy's room in the morning to take her measurements, and Nataliya had returned with a gorgeous gown that had been altered to perfectly fit the Madrigal Queen later in the evening.
"It's so beautiful," Amy breathed, indulging herself with a twirl. Just a little one. "And this fabric is incredible!" Amy thumbed the creamy silk, a shade of gold that gleamed ethereally. It was unlike the more fashionable fuchsias, emeralds, crimsons, and turquoise's that most of the other ladies would likely be donning, but this was more Amy.
"I've never worn a dress like this before, thank you ever so much, Nataliya!" Amy contained the urge to grasp the tailor by her hands and jump up and down in joy, and inspected herself in the mirror one last time. She was still not used to baring so much skin. The dress was carelessly off shoulder, with a sweetheart neckline that pushed her breasts forward and skirts that swirled around her legs, trailing behind her when she didn't lift them up (a goddamn tripping hazard, if you asked her). A pair of gold satin slippers peeped out from underneath the skirts — if no one could really see her feet it didn't matter what kind of shoes she wore!
"You are very welcome, your majesty," Nataliya smiled courteously, dipping into a curtesy, "are you excited for the event?"
"I'm quite nervous actually, I don't even know what the occasion for the party is!" Amy admitted, running a brush through her tresses, leaning against her dressing table.
Nataliya blanched, grey eyes solemnly lowering. "You don't know?" She murmured.
Amy slowly placed the brush back on the table, standing up straight as she sensed a newfound tension in the air. Features wrought it confusion, she shook her head.
Nataliya sighed, taking the love seat. "The party is meant to celebrate the success of the secret operation to seize one of the largest Janus gold mines," she explained, "pardon me for saying so, but these Lucians are extravagant, even when it comes to their blood thirst."
Amy smiled wanly, sitting down next to Nataliya. She couldn't lie, she was shaken. A party to celebrate a military operation? One that would put hundreds out of work and spark even more discontent? It was inhumane, and absolutely unheard of back home. It was humiliating to admit that in the short time she had spent with Ian, she had forgotten to think of him as a corrupt despot who encouraged warfare, and had slipped back into old habits.
"You speak of Lucians as if they weren't your people," Amy joked, curiously inclining her head to the side as a telling look swept across Nataliya's face.
"Well, I moved here from the Madrigal kingdom when I was a little girl, Your Grace," Nataliya divulged, "this is where I'm from, but the ways of this kingdom do not always sit well with me".
Amy was surprised. She hadn't thought migration from one kingdom to another happened. People were so rooted in and stratified by the cultures and customs of their own kingdoms that they wouldn't dream of leaving. Immigration was unheard of. Or so Amy had thought.
"Are there a lot of people that feel the way you do in the Lucian kingdom?" Amy inquired, eyebrows drawn together in interest.
Nataliya paused. The woman hesitantly rose from where she was seated, eyes darting to and fro in quiet alarm. "I have been far too outspoken, Your Majesty, my apologies," she mumbled.
"Nataliya, whatever you tell me will remain between the two of us," Amy promised. The young Queen's eyes shone with honesty, putting the tailor at ease.
"I really do have to leave, my Queen, but if you would like to see, meet me in front of the main gates at dawn," Nataliya said, irritatingly cryptic as she curtseyed once more and fled the room.
Amy was taken aback. She was intrigued, but feared becoming complicit in something she didn't understand or agree with. What could Nataliya possibly need to show her? She was about to ponder the possibilities, when she realized she was extremely late.
"Oh, crap," she murmured, snapping up from her seat and making a dive for the door, sneaking a quick look at her reflection in the mirror on the way. She would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous.
As she made her way down the hall to the grand staircase, she thought about what it meant for her to be attending this party. She had told Ian she would, so not doing so would be a huge affront to him. But her attendance might imply that she supported armed attacks against the Janus, which she certainly did not. She needed to make sure that she kept a low profile, but also that anyone she interacted with knew that she was just a guest of Ian's, and that her presence was diplomatic.
Amy inhaled deeply to calm herself as she heard the thrum of conversation grow louder with every step she took down the grand hallway. The doors were opened and she stepped through, masking her hesitance with feigned self possession and her best attempt at grace.
Amy was taken aback by the grandeur of the main ballroom, from the gilded walls and ceilings to the ostentatious diamond chandeliers that bathed the sea of effortlessly beautiful guests in a golden glow. She was transported back to another party she'd attended three years ago in this very room . . .
Amy fondly admired the couples twirling on the circular dance floor in the center of the room. She wasn't much of a dancer herself, but she did love the idea of dancing.
"Do you dance, my Lady?"
Amy was startled out of her thoughts as she met the smoky grey eyes of a handsome stranger dressed in a dapper blue suit.
"Oh, I'm not much of a dancer," Amy smiled politely, a blush crawling up her cheeks as the gentleman offered her a cheeky grin, as if she was missing some sort of private joke.
"Well, I would be honored if you would humor me with just one dance," he maneuvered smoothly, holding out a gloved hand.
Amy stared. Her eyes darted between the dancers and the hand that was offered to her, and she was about to part her lips to nervously accept when she felt a familiar arm fasten itself around her waist.
"My apologies, my Lord, but I'm afraid she will be dancing with me," Ian growled, eyes ablaze as he clenched his jaw, wordlessly sweeping Amy away from her suitor, towards the dance floor.
Amy was too surprised to pull away (plus she didn't really want to). Ian's larger hand enclosed Amy's daintier one, and he fastened his grip around her, his assertive hold containing a sense of tenderness.
"Who was he?" Amy asked, glancing over her shoulder to see that the stranger had disappeared. She turned back to find Ian's probing eyes resting on her, like gold set aflame.
"Dunno," Ian grumbled, "don't care," the King almost instinctively pulled Amy closer, making her heart race.
Ian's gaze didn't waver away from her for a second, and Amy didn't know if she could take this. Being so close to him that she could smell the clove on his skin and feel the warmth of his breath. His touch sent jolts through her skin, kindling a fire in her stomach, sending her heart and her brain into overdrive. Confusion wrapped around her senses, but oddly enough she felt more alert and alive than ever.
"Ian Kabra," Amy smirked bravely, her fingers playfully wrapping around his tie as she yanked his head downwards, "you were jealous."
Amy noticed how Ian's eyes momentarily dropped to her lips, before he lifted them back up, mirroring her with a smirk of his own. "Never," he retorted, lowering her into a dip, face still inches away from her when they straightened back into their original position.
"Well, in that case I'll just go dance with him then," Amy laughed, jokingly tugging her hands out of Ian's before he grappled for them, tightening his grip.
"Well, in that case I suppose I will admit that I was a little jealous," Ian chuckled back, features softening as he observed her laugh, unknowingly taking his breath away. Holy fucking shit, how was it even humanly possible for anyone to be that bloody beautiful?
"There's something I want to show you," Amy smiled, lacing her fingers through Ian's, pulling him away from the dance floor.
Ian smiled curiously. What could she possible show him in his own palace? Her hand burrowed in his, he didn't need her to show him anything else. But he followed her, catching a painful whiff of liquor as a waiter passed them holding a tray of drinks.
His headache hadn't subsided in two days, but he had a strong tolerance for pain of all kinds, and when he was with Amy he barely noticed it.
Amy pulled heavy curtains aside, and led him through a set of glass doors, and Ian drew a breath. She had brought him to the balcony where he had first met her. It was like they were fifteen again, and he was seeing her for the first time.
There she stood, glowing in the moonlight, a goddess of whom he was unworthy. "Bloody hell, you're beautiful," he breathed, taking a step towards her.
She smiled shyly, coyly biting her lip. "Remember this place?" She gestured all around with her hands, grinning at him, giving the sun a run for its money.
"How could I forget?" Ian replied, taking a chance and leaning his forehead against hers, their lips inches away.
"Ian," Amy murmured, senseless, lost in the moment, lost in him. She had never lost track of everything around her like this. The only thing that seemed to matter was Ian. "You make things so hard."
Suddenly, Ian was reminded of the letter he'd received from her, the one demanding they sever ties. She had destroyed him so easily, and Ian had recovered but who was to say she wouldn't do it again?
Ian allowed his lips to graze hers ever so slightly, before he reluctantly pulled away, eyes lowered, awkwardly clearing his throat.
Amy looked up at him, crestfallen. She hoped he couldn't see it on her face. "Is everything alright?" She asked earnestly, teaching for his hand which he quickly removed from her reach. Amy's eyes stung with unshed tears.
"Yes, I just remembered I have to make a speech in a few minutes," Ian exclaimed coldly, handsome features devoid of expression as he bowed, "excuse me".
She watched his leave the balcony, and felt like screaming into her hands. Foolish girl. He'd already broken her heart once by never responding to her heartfelt letters, and now she was letting him do it again. How could she be so stupid?
Blinking away unshed tears, she smoothed down her dress. She felt strangely empty without his touch on her skin, cold and icy and alone. Shuddering in the evening wind, she spun around and decided to go back into the party.
A crowd had gathered around the dance floor, which was now empty. The silence of the room was broken by Ian's strong footsteps. The King stepped onto the stage, smiling cordially, sending a bolt of lightning shooting through Amy.
"Thank you all for coming tonight to celebrate another victory for our glorious kingdom!" Ian exclaimed, holding up his glass as the lords and ladies cheered.
Amy was suddenly mortified, reminded of the cruel occasion. She attempted in that moment to manufacture a distaste for Ian on the basis of his role in all of the violence that plagued the kingdom. But the thought of his eyes on her, playful, inviting, his arms around her, his lips against hers, it made it impossible. Her heart hurt, and she couldn't do anything about it.
"I would like to propose a toast!" Ian declared, "to our brave soldiers for seizing the gold mine from the Janus dogs! Glory to the Lucians!"
Amy was appalled as every single face she could see was filled with glee, and as everyone raised their glasses to toast war, greed, and pride, she turned on her heels and fled. She couldn't be in this room a moment longer.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ian watched her leave, fighting the urge to run after her. He turned to his people, basking in their praise instead.
"Long live King Ian, King Ian the Ruthless!"
Ruthless, Ian thought ruefully.
If they only knew.
Hello! Happy Valentine's Day you guys I tried to write this real fast as a little valentines treat! Btw yes the coronated at 18 thing happens in all the kingdoms, but the other kids just haven't appeared in the story yet! Also YES I was absolutely inspired by beauty and the beast with the library bit! This story was originally going to be a very close 39C version of b&b but there are already a few of those floating around, and so I ended up extending that into a little universe of my own! thank you for reading it means so much to me, and I would be so so so thrilled if you left me a review! I can see u on my traffic stats everyone who reads and doesn't review! No but seriously it makes me so happy to hear what u think, good or bad. stay tuned for more !