Her mother always despised court. She hated everything about it. The depravity, the gossips, the hypocrisy, the fakeness of it all. The only good thing that happened to her at court, was meeting her husband.
She'd hate to see her only daughter attend court for even one day. She'd hate to watch her leave for court and live there for months.
Candice Beckett knew what her mother would be saying to her. "Don't trust anyone." "Nobody there is your friend." "Don't trust the boys." "Keep your head down." "Don't talk to royalty, even if they talk to you first."
Well how exactly were you supposed to ignore royalty? Especially if they talk to you first?
There was a ball once a week. The princes insisted on it. Prince Lucifer liked to mess with people. Prince Gabriel just liked to party, and drink and eat. Tonight was her seventh ball. Her seventh week.
Whoever said seven was a lucky number?
"And who might you be, cupcake?"
Candice turned around, her white and pink gown sweeping the floor in satisfying waves. The voice wasn't unfamiliar, but she knew she had never spoken to the owner, and she didn't recognize it right away. At first, she thought the man was simply making fun of her dress. But it wasn't so.
Her heart skipped a beat as she found herself facing the prince. She had never met royalty, only had seen them from afar. She had no particular desire to met them either. The rumors about the princes were many and she had no intention of becoming part of them. Part of the gossips.
"Your Highness."
She immediately bowed, her eyes quickly finding the wooden floor.
"Don't you look lovely," he said, before biting into an actual cupcake whose colors were highly similar to Candice's dress.
From anyone else's mouth, the words would have been mocking her. But he was sincere. She could see it in his eyes. Though, she chose to doubt it.
"My name is Candice, sir."
"Indeed. I've seen you around. Your Henry's daughter."
Her father had recently joined the Royal Council, taking the place of his late father-in-law who had just passed away shortly after his 86th birthday.
She merely nodded.
"Is this your first time at one of my balls?"
"No, sir."
"Then how come I've never seen you around before? I'm sure I would've remembered."
"You're too kind," she blushed.
"Do you dance?"
"I-"
"Of course, you do. Your mother was one of the best ballerinas the Kingdom has ever had the honor to count among its citizens."
He through the cupcake away and the pastry disappeared before it could reach the ground. He offered his hand to her, and she knew she couldn't refuse him.
She could feel the eyes of every guest on her and her cheeks began to redden. She would become a rumor, just another girl on the prince's list.
"You are quite the dancer."
"Thank you, your Highness."
"Now, now. It's no fun to stand on ceremony."
That was easy for him to say, but what else could she stand on?
"Your father is doing a marvelous job. But I'm sure he must miss his land and his people."
"My father always prefers to be where he is most useful, your Hi-," she paused. "Sir."
"I suppose that is a quality," he said, in a way that made her think he thought the opposite. "What about you? Do you miss your land?"
Her land? Not so much. She could return there at any time. All she needed was to ask. But she chose to stay, like she chose to follow her father to court. She didn't like imagining him alone at court. He had been very fragile since her mother's passing. She would worry about him just like he would worry about her. And that would serve no one. It would only serve to distract him, and he couldn't serve the King well if he was distracted.
She didn't miss her land as much as her people. Her caretakers. Her help. She knew no one here, at the palace. She had to rely on strangers for the simplest things. She missed her horses. She missed her dogs. She missed her birds. But above all, she missed her mother. And she could return to her land and find all of that again. All of it, but not her mother.
"I'm not as homesick as everyone said I would be."
"Give it time. We all get homesick, eventually. Even if for just a moment."
"My home is anywhere my father is, I suppose."
"And I'm certain he would say the same," he said with a sincere smile.
He looked down at her, and noticed it was hard, if not impossible, to catch her eyes. She always looked away, mostly keeping them on her feet. He knew what kind of girl she was. First impressions are crucial, and if they can't always tell you everything about someone, they can certainly tell you enough.
"It was lovely meeting you, my Lady," he said as the music stopped and the crowd started to applaud the dancers.
He bowed to her, making her blush with embarrassment. She quickly bowed back.
"Your Highness."
He gave her a quick smile before he walked away and disappeared in the crowd. She could feel all the eyes on her and she kept her head down, hoping her makeup was enough to conceal her heated cheeks.
Candice waited as long as she could to go back to her room. All the stares had made her want to run away but she knew what the gossips would say. That she left to meet him. And she would become another one of those stories, another girl whose reputations died before she even got the chance to have one. And there was nothing more precious at court than reputation, or the lack thereof.
She thought, or maybe hoped, that her encounter with the Prince would remain a one time (un)lucky event, and she went about her day as usual. Around 10AM, she found herself in the library, devouring another book, while all of the girls her age were having tea and gossiping about their poor victims of the day. She was one of them, no doubt.
But she wasn't going to let that eat at her. She tried to relax, and what better way to do so than hidden in the quiet and empty library? She was well into her book when she heard and saw the doors open in the corner of her eye. Too deep inside the story to notice royalty was making its way to her.
"Good morning, cupcake."
She jumped. Out of her book, and out of her chair. She jumped because his voice startled her, she jumped because she recognized it instantly, she jumped because of that nickname that had apparently stuck.
She almost threw the book away as she stood on her feet and gave the Prince the greeting he was owed.
"Your Royal Highness."
"Lady Beckett," he bowed as well.
She stood there, her eyes falling on his face for an instant but not staying there too long as she quickly realized her mistake and looked away.
"I'm glad I've finally found you. I've been looking for you."
Her next words escaped her. "You have?"
"Yes. I was certain I'd found you with all the other ladies, in the pink salon."
Uh-oh, she thought. If he went there and asked for her, there was no doubt left, her story was already written and engraved in stone.
"Don't worry," he quickly added, as if he had read her mind, "they didn't see me."
She frowned and looked up at him, long enough to see him smile and wink at her.
"Girls like you are rare at court," he continued as he gestured for her to sit back down. "Usually when I introduce myself to a member of your sex they already see themselves crowned and titled."
Candice understood it must have been refreshing not to have another lady jump at his neck the second he laid eyes on her. She sat down on the sofa as he did, keeping a respectful distance between them.
"What are you reading?" he asked as he picked up the book. "Ah, interesting. So, you're an adventurer?"
She chuckled quietly. "Not really."
"Well what's so funny? Reading a book is as much as an adventure as an actual one."
"Perhaps, for those of us who aren't brave enough to go out there on our own."
"Or who never got any interesting opportunity. If you think about it, you coming to live at court is a wild adventure, wouldn't you say?"
She laughed. "Oh, certainly."
"Just not a good one," he finished her thought.
Her smile disappeared as she looked away.
"Oh, that's quite alright, I can't handle court either. I just don't have any other choice. I was born in it."
"My mother always told me never to come to court."
"Your mother sounds like a wise woman."
"She was."
"To be honest, I am quite bored. Balls are exciting, but I'm afraid not so much when they're a weekly occurrence."
"I like the food," she shrugged, making a nervous attempt at humor. A successful one, judging by his laugh.
"Why, thank you. I picked the chefs."
As the minutes passed, the silence in the library was replaced with laughter. After a little over an hour of chatting and joking, Candice almost forgot she was speaking to the Prince as it felt she was speaking to a friend. And she hadn't had a friend in a long time. If ever.
"I'm afraid this is all the time I have," he said suddenly as he stood up.
"Oh, of course," she nodded as she jumped on her feet. "Apologies for holding you."
"No apologies necessary. I enjoyed our little chat," he paused. "Would it be alright to ask you to dine with me tonight?"
She froze. He chuckled.
"I know you've heard the stories. I need to tell you," he said as he approached her, "they're not true," he whispered in her ear. "Well, some of them are," he laughed. "But all I want is a dinner with you. With someone I can actually chat with, not just talk about policies and politics and other boring, uninteresting subjects nobody actually cares about."
She hesitated. Surely it was a bad idea. Saying yes would mean going after all her mother had warned her against. But she had already broken so many rules. And she had finally found an opportunity for a friend. She almost rolled her eyes at herself. A friend? He was a Prince. Surely, he had enough friends. Or maybe not. He seemed as lonely as she was, if not more. It does take one to know one, after all.
"Why not?"
Walking around the castle had never felt more dangerous. She couldn't remember a time when she had felt so nervous. She was convinced everyone she crossed paths with knew exactly where she was going. Of course, they didn't, and she knew it. But the feeling remained, nonetheless. After all, that page boy could be taking her anywhere. To her father, to a friend, to anywhere. When they reached the Royal wing, she looked around and was relieved to see no one was there. She walked to Prince Gabriel's chambers and didn't see a single fly.
"My Lady," the page bowed to her as he gestured her to go inside.
She stepped in hesitantly. The chambers were like a large apartment, and she had just entered the living room. There were colors everywhere, bright colors. The paintings on the walls, the walls themselves, even the furniture were all in bright and fun colors no one could find in the palace. It was so modern so… untraditional.
"Lady Beckett."
She turned to her right to see Prince Gabriel walking up to her. She bowed immediately and he quickly made his way to her.
"Thank you for coming," he said as he took her hand and brought it to his lips. "You look stunning."
Her cheeks turned redder than her blush and she couldn't help but look away. She didn't see his amused smile, she didn't know he was expecting her to react that way. He knew her well enough now, even after just two hours spent with her.
She was nothing like the other girls. She didn't want what they wanted. In fact, she didn't want for anything at all. She was content with what she had. And grateful for it all. She had no ambition and hadn't come to the dinner with an ulterior motive. She just came for him. Because she wanted exactly what he did, but never asked for. A friend. A confident. Someone. Just someone to talk to.
It was easy to talk to her. She was a good listener. She actually cared. It was harder to make her talk. He eventually figured out it was because she was afraid he wouldn't care. But she quickly learned he did. Not only did he care, but he was interested. He was fascinated. By her, by her simplicity, by her honesty.
Everything in his life was complicated. His life was complicated. Fortunately for him, and for the Kingdom, he was not the heir. He would make a lousy King. Though no one was expecting a new King nor would they ever. How could they, when the King couldn't die? But how could the Princes expect friendship or more when that came with the promise of power and immortality? He had watched so many of his brothers and sisters fall for humans who only wanted their grace, their power, their money, their eternity. So many of them stuck with dishonest former mortals who didn't even bother to fake it anymore once they got what they wanted.
But she, she was different. She didn't look at him the way the other girls did. She didn't look at him at all. When she laughed at his bad jokes it was because she had the same terrible sense of humor as he did. When she nodded while listening to him it was because she was actually listening. And when she talked, she didn't say what he wanted to hear. She said was she had to say, what was her on mind. She was honest. Simple. True.
After dinner, he showed her around his chambers, telling her the stories behind the crazy paintings hanging on the walls or the funny little statues scattered around the living room.
"Can I ask you a question?" she asked as she stared at one of the paintings.
"Of course."
"Did they really exist?"
"What?"
"The unicorns," she said as she pointed towards the animal.
He chuckled. "Yeah, for a while."
"Seriously? What happened to them?"
"They got eaten," he shrugged. "Like many other species you've never heard about."
"Eaten? Who would do such a thing?"
He raised an eyebrow at her incredulity.
"Right," she chuckled at her own dumb questions.
"'don't know why the unicorns were so popular. They're just horses with a horn."
"Aren't they supposed to be magical or something?"
"Only in books."
"Can I ask you another question?"
"Go for it," he replied, amused by her curiosity, which was tickling his own.
She paused. It was a hard question to ask, a question she knew smarter people would never even consider asking. Questioning the faith was, if not forbidden, highly discouraged. Especially at court.
"Is it true? What they say?"
"What who says?"
"… everyone," she shrugged, realizing she could have phrased it better.
He knew what she was asking, but it seemed fun to play dumb.
"What is everyone saying?"
She shook her head, quickly giving up. "Nothing. Forget it."
"Now, now, I want to know. What is everyone saying?" he insisted playfully as he moved before her.
"You know what I'm talking about," she said, stepping back.
Of course he did. Though no one had actually asked him before. Maybe they were smarter, or just less brave than her. She kept on surprising him. They hadn't even spent twenty-four hours together and she felt comfortable enough to ask that question already. Should he reward her bravery, or should he punish her stupidity?
He took a step forward, and she stepped back again. He stopped for a moment, then smirked before he took another step. And another one. And another one. Until he couldn't anymore. Until she was trapped between the wall and him.
"What do you think?" he asked, holding her gaze.
She hadn't moved his eyes from him since she had asked her question, and he enjoyed drowning in them. The excitement had them sparkle. But what he loved above all else was the lack of fear. She was fascinated by him. Just like he was fascinated by her.
"I think some of it is true."
"And the rest?" he whispered as his face moved closer to hers.
"Trimmings. Gossips… Improvements," she whispered back.
He chuckled. "Well, you're not wrong."
"So what is? True, I mean?"
He shrugged. "That is a complicated and long answer."
"The night is young."
"I think I'd rather spend the night doing something a little bit more… fun," he told her as he brushed his nose against hers.
She gasped as he moved to kiss her, stopping him.
"Your Highness, I-"
"Gabriel."
"Sir…"
"Gabriel," he insisted as his nose brushed against hers once again.
"We shouldn't."
"Why not?"
"I… I…"
"Yes?"
"Because… you're… you… and I'm… me."
"Yes. You are you, and you are exactly who I want."
She blinked many times very quickly as if that would take the confusion away.
"I'm too old to limit myself to the silver diggers throwing their arms at me. I've been looking for you for a long time, Lady Beckett. I'm tired. I'm exhausted. I want you. Because you are you."
Speechless, she stared at him like he was speaking in a language she didn't understand.
"You don't know me."
"I know enough."
"But I don't. I don't know you."
He pursed his lips, thought for a short moment, then nodded.
"What do you want to know?"