A/N- I'm making up for how long it's been with an extra long chapter.
Flashback
It was officially the last day of Summer.
After today, any warm days would be attributed to an unseasonably hot autumn.
This was why the beach two kilometers from Ensamhet Castle, nobility and A-list celebrities were currently dotted along the sand, draped on uber-expensive towels and wearing swimsuits and sunglasses more suitable for hotel pools than anywhere that contained dirt and waves.
The last day of summer had been celebrated by the royal family at the beach for one hundred years, followed by a small, informal party at the castle before preparations began for the Autumn court.
Of course, for the royal court, a small party was any guest list that didn't break into three digits and informal only meant that there was no precedence when the royal family entered the room and the servants didn't have to wear full livery.
Still, it was a beautiful day and Elijah was determined to enjoy it.
His siblings had already left the castle an hour ago, Klaus and Kol having thrown themselves into the ocean, Henrik was exploring the caves and Rebekah was sunning herself.
He had taken his time leaving, having been caught up in a book and by the time he reached the beach along the private path, his phone had already been vibrating with messages from his girlfriend.
Or at least, the girl that the papers and paparazzi were calling his girlfriend.
Teen model and tv star, Tatia. She was wearing a tiny bikini with a silk dress over the top, she slipped her arm through his as he walked past and began chatting inanely about her work and parties she'd been to. Elijah liked her because she was fun but that day, he focuses more on the people scattered along the beach, which had been semi-privatized by the court for the day, tourists being shooed away by security and locals glaring self-righteously as they had to move further down the beach to catch any waves without risk of crowning movie stars or duchesses with their surfboard.
Elijah sees the spot his siblings had claimed, their monogrammed towels- gifts that they'd kept just so they could keep track of which towel belonged to whom- were in the best position and somehow, despite the casualness of being on a beach, courtiers had still managed to arrange their own places nearby in according to precedence.
He rolls his eyes and catches a stunning woman up ahead. An older woman wearing a red swimsuit and standing at the shoreline, letting the waves run over her feet as she bent to pick up and examine the sea shells.
Her hair flows over her back, nearly at her waist and he realizes that it's Miranda Petrova. She smiles and inclines her head gracefully as he approaches, returning her eyes to the ocean and he follows her gaze to see two surfers trying to catch a wave,
"Thinking of taking up surfing?" he inquires and she laughs,
"Not at my advanced age," She demurs, although she's barely touching forty, "No, I'm simply keeping an eye on my daughters."
Elijah focuses and sees that the two girls on the boards are nearly identical,
"I didn't realize there was much surfing done in Rose Seng." He jests and she laughs, "There isn't, the girls met some surfer boys this morning and received a crash course and a garage where they could buy their new boards."
Miranda makes a face, her disdain for these now absent surfers quite clear, "Fortunately, Alexander is nearby and fully qualified to perform CPR and I received lifesaving training in Antibes, many years ago,"
She turns to him with a winning smile, "Forgive me your highness, but this might be the only incident where you won't be given priority."
He laughs and her attention is diverted as one of her daughters waves her hand and calls to her, he looks for his own mother and sees her sitting on a lounge chair under a marquee, surrounded by her friends, drinking champagne and nibbling on caviar blinis.
He continues walking along the beach as Tatia leaves him to settle down beside Rebekah and rub coconut oil along her bare legs, attracting admiring glances from those nearby. He walks until he hits the rocks and cliff face, glancing up to see if he can spot Henrik before turning back.
He's enjoying the peace and the roaring of the waves and wind in his ears but when the laughter intrudes on his serenity, he's not entirely remorseful.
The surfboards reach the shore before their new owners and the girls take their time emerging from the waves, looking less like Venus and more like drowning victims. Their hair hanging over their faces, sand sticking to their bodies and bruises already forming on their arms and legs,
He puts his hands in the pockets of his black board shorts and waits to be spotted. The first Petrova to make it to land is wearing a red halter bikini, patterned bottoms and a Hawaiian lei around her neck that Elijah had no idea were even available considering how out of place they were in a country that saw blisteringly cold winters and could barely subscribe to anything the Hawaiian culture was famous for. She makes it to the sand just to fall down again laughing, clutching her stomach while she tries to get her hair away from her face and when she sees him, her startled features tell him that this is Elena.
"Hello," he greets kindly, "Are you alright?"
She nods, trying to catch her breath but they're interrupted by a shout of annoyance. They turn to see Katerina- wearing a black one piece with a silver necklace built in- limping to shore, her face pained and Elijah walks straight into the waves, concern overtaking him as she begins to lose her balance. She topples into him and he catches her, "Are you alright?"
She shakes her head, "I cut my foot on something and it really stings!"
He drapes her arm over his shoulders and helps her back to where everyone was gathered, Elena hurrying off to find her father and seeing that the Petrova's were at the other end of the beach, he leads her to his towel, sitting her down, crouching before her and lifting her foot to see a gash across her big toe.
"Ah," he murmurs sympathetically, "How did that happen?"
She shrugs, "I got thrown by a wave and deliberately sank to the bottom, as the surfer had taught me so I could find my way up again, but when I hit the sand, I kicked a sharp rock."
She sees that she's bleeding onto his thumb and tries to tug her foot away but he sets it on his knee, keeping it elevated as Alexander comes over with the first aid kit.
Elijah watches as the man examines his daughter's foot,
"We should probably amputate, just to be careful," he announces and Katerina rolls her eyes, even as her lips quirk up,
"You'll be fine, kitten," He assures her, splashing a bit of antiseptic across the wound and sticking a band-aid on it.
He pats her hand and leaves, heading back to his towel and picking up a medical journal and Elijah offers a bottle of water to Katerina,
"Thanks for taking care of me." she murmurs, sipping on the water and sitting up with a faint blush on her cheeks from the sun, he shrugs,
"What're friends for?"
She grins and begins to tell him about surfing when a shadow falls across them both and a hand strokes the back of his neck, "Darling, who's your friend?"
He looks over his shoulder to see Tatia standing there, her fingers now straying up to his hair,
He introduces the two of them and Tatia gives the thin smile she's famous for before declaring herself absolutely famished and pulling him away to the picnic his mother's friends had set up.
"You're welcome." she announces, handing him a glass of champagne which he takes automatically,
"For what?" he asks in confusion, sipping slowly at the alcohol and Tatia laughs,
"For rescuing you from your little groupie." she explains, putting a hand on his arm and throwing her hair back, "Katerina is my friend." he argues, remembering that he had told her this, that he had read her a few of the jokes she had texted him.
Tatia gives him such a patronizing look that his ego starts to burn, "Darling please, that girl was blushing the entire time you were with her, she shook when you touched her and kept trying to fix her soaked hair," she drains her champagne in one gulp and holds her hand out for a passing servant to refill, "She clearly has a crush on you."
Elijah blinks in surprise, "Do you think so?"
Tatia rolls her eyes again, "She can't stop staring at you."
He turns his head to see Katerina watching him and she turns her own head quickly, focusing on the rapidly approaching Kol and Niklaus instead.
"So sweet." Tatia snorts, taking another glass of champagne and Elijah gives her a barely attentive smile before heading to find his private secretary.
He quietly asks him to inform Tatia's agent that as Elijah would be returning to university for the winter semester, he had to focus on his studies and wouldn't have time to be attending parties and galas with her anymore. He knew it was callous but Tatia had only ever been after the attention and fame that came with dating the Crown Prince.
That afternoon, when the sun reached its peak and everyone retired indoors for the castle party, Elijah deliberately lingered on the outer steps as everyone went inside, waiting for Katerina whose limp had slowed her down.
"Would you like a hand?" he offers, descending the sandstone steps as she pauses on the grass to catch her breath,
"Oh," she swallows nervously and her hand flutters to her drying hair,
"No, uh…I should be fine."
"Come," he protests, reaching her side, "These steps are perilous enough for those on two feet, I don't want you falling and hurting yourself."
He takes her hand and feels it tremble as he drapes it over his shoulder and when he puts his hand on her back, she shifts slightly and takes a sharp breath when he slides it down to her waist.
Considering Alexander would be the only Petrova who weighed over sixty kilos, Elijah could have got Katerina up to the door in barely two minutes.
He takes five, making sure she has a firm footing on every step before moving on and when his fingers stray from her swimsuit to bare skin, he watches how her eyelids flutter and she bites her lip.
He thinks about how her lips would taste of salt with a hint of sugar from the soda she'd had earlier, he thinks about how she would have to stretch up on her bare toes to kiss him and he barely notices when they've reached the top of the stairs.
He releases her because he can hear Kol calling his name but for the rest of the day, all he can focus on is the knowledge that Katerina Petrova had a crush on him.
And he can't seem to stop smiling.
Miranda Petrova paced slowly through the rooms, deliberately turning her attention to any detail she might have missed previously.
The wainscoting, the silver curtain holders, the exact shade of blue on the ceiling decorations of the bathroom.
Miranda had always thought that living in a set of rooms where everything was in one primary color would be maddening, but the sheer finery of the Blue Rooms, Katerina's current living quarters, more than made up for the lack of other colors.
She sits down in the interior apartment where everything is more turquoise than royal blue and, in a rare moment of naughtiness, she slips off her right heel and runs her stocking clad foot on the carpet, enjoying the sensation under her toes.
Such luxury.
And the Queen's rooms were even better, covered in gold and with a cabinet of royal jewels being kept in the bedroom to be used at the Queen's discretion.
Long strands of pearls. Diamonds. Emeralds. Rubies. Platinum, Silver and Gold.
Miranda's mouth waters greedily at the thought.
Her daughter would be Queen.
She would be mother to the Queen, one of the most important women in the land.
Soon.
She hears someone approaching and quickly slides her foot back into her shoe, standing up and smoothing down her gown, ready to start lecturing her daughter the moment she walked through those doors.
Katerina had shortly disappeared after the court had returned from the coronation and the ball began in an hour. She hadn't left nearly enough time to get ready and Miranda had to resist the urge to smack the girl for her stupidity. The eyes and cameras of the world would be upon her tonight and she was waiting until the very last moment to prepare herself.
However, the woman who walked through the door wasn't her daughter.
"Hello," Miranda greeted, her tone polite but cold, "Might I help you?"
The woman is wearing a suit and not an overly expensive one either, her hair is loose but not treated to weekly salon appointments and her make-up was done herself.
She is startled to see Miranda but quickly flashes her lanyard at her, "Hi, Andie Star, I'm with the crew covering the coronation," she looks around the room,
"I'm looking for Katerina?"
The Honorable Lady Katerina Petrova.
Miranda runs her daughter's title in her head, annoyed by the casual manner in which this woman refers to her daughter,
"I'm afraid that she isn't here at the moment," she waves her hand to the otherwise empty room, "Perhaps if you leave a card?"
"Actually," Andie comes forward on heels that were foolishly high considering how much of the palace she had probably already traversed,
"If you have a minute, I would love to talk to you as well."
Miranda raises a perfectly threaded eyebrow, "Oh?"
"Yes," Andie clears her throat, "As her mother, I would love to ask you some questions."
Miranda pretends to check the time on the Madame de Pompadour clock on the mantle, when in reality she was simply drawing Ms. Star's attention to the exquisite piece,
"Well, I have a minute or two."
"Excellent."
Andie sits without ceremony or permission on one of the armchairs and draws a notepad and pen out of her three seasons old Louis Vuitton handbag, before turning on the recording device on her phone,
"So," she begins, "Could you describe your daughter to me?"
Miranda gives a polite laugh, "Of course, but I'm her mother, Katerina and Elena are my entire world and I love them with all my heart. To me, Katerina is perfect. She is beautiful, intelligent, warm, friendly and has an infectious laugh, most importantly, she is determined to make the world a better place."
Andie notes this down and when her smile grows even more friendly, Miranda immediately goes on alert. This isn't her first interview by any stretch of the imagination. How many times in her twenties had reporters tried to lure her into admitting something about herself that could be used against her later?
"And how did you feel when it was revealed that she was secretly dating the Crown Prince?"
Furious.
Mortified by her daughter's stupidity.
She laughs again, "The only people in the world who thought Elijah and my daughter were 'secretly dating'," she raises her fingers to use air-quotes,
"Were Elijah and my daughter, to the rest of us their attraction to one another was as obvious as the sun in the sky."
Andie blinks in surprise as Miranda leans back in her seat, forcing herself to remain casual,
"As I understand, they began sneaking around when Katerina was still promised to Prince Kol."
Yes. Her daughter had jeopardized her entire future in those six months but Miranda would go to her grave before admitting that.
"My daughter was betrothed to Prince Kol," she confirms, "However, that betrothal had always been intended to be considerate of the feelings and desires of both parties, if at any point either of them wished to be free of the commitment, after all, this is the twenty-first century. As it became very clear, very quickly that my daughter and Elijah were falling deeply in love, the late Queen and I discussed breaking off the engagement, however, as mothers," she puts a hand to her heart,
"We had been waiting for Elijah and Katerina to come to us, hands clasped and announce that they were together…"
"But they didn't," Andie interrupts, "Instead, they snuck around until they were caught by the late King in a closet."
Miranda's smile freezes on her face and she has to mentally remind herself to keep breathing.
Whilst that scandal had been well-known to the royal family and inner-circle of courtiers, by sheer miracle it had never been known to the greater public, until now.
She shrugs a delicate shoulder, "Young love," she sighs, "It demands heartfelt declarations, love notes, hidden meetings and secret rendezvous."
She waves her hand, her diamond bracelet sliding up and down her wrist, "Elijah and Katerina must have hidden in every quiet spot Kattegat Palace holds so they could kiss each other, the two of them loved the secrecy even as they failed to realize that when they snuck away, everyone knew where they were going. That night, when they were 'caught'," Again, she uses air-quotes,
"It was simply because the late King was tired of them unnecessarily sneaking off every hour, especially when we had all gathered together for a dinner. When we found them, they were trading love tokens, nothing that needed to take place in a closet, even one with the moonlight cascading through the window and reflecting of the fine silver plates."
Andie pouts in disappointment, "Really? Is that all they were doing?"
Yes.
Thankfully, that one time they'd been stupid enough to be caught, her daughter had been fully clothed, although the Crown Prince's shirt had been unbuttoned to the waist, but as Katerina's birthday present had been hanging around his neck, it had been clear that they hadn't intended to fornicate on the dusty floor.
She gives the woman a slightly frosty smile, "I'm afraid that one thing Elijah didn't inherit from his ancestors is their depravity. Even the love letters he and my daughter exchanged were the very image of propriety, despite the depths of their love for one another, they were determined to act honorably."
"Yet, they were engaged when Katerina was only seventeen," Andie points out, clearly aware that she's caught onto something, "Awfully young isn't it?"
Miranda nods in agreement, "It was awfully young and the King, Queen, Alexander and I did have our reservations but they were so clearly in love and devoted to one another that we didn't have the heart to refuse them, still, Esther did insist that they weren't to be married until after my daughter had finished her studies. She wanted them to have time to be absolutely certain that they were each other's future and that's what they had. Now," she glances around,
"Five years have passed and the only thing that has changed is they're actively planning their wedding."
Andie is about to ask another question when they're interrupted by Aiden walking into the room and both women look up,
"What are you doing here?" Miranda asks him, "Is the king looking for me?"
Aiden clears his throat and glances to her daughter's bedroom nervously, "Uh, I need to get Lady Katerina's dress for the ball," he explains, "Is it through there?"
Miranda nods but senses an upcoming triumph and jumps on it,
"Where is my daughter?" she asks and notes with satisfaction the blush rising on his cheeks, "Uh…she's with the Cr-the King in his rooms, they're…uh…getting ready for the ball."
That was probably the best thing that could have been said.
Miranda puts a weary expression on her face, "Young love," she repeats, "Regardless of position, it demands to be felt."
She knows the moment that she's finished speaking that she's given Ms. Star the quote that will influence the context of the entire segment.
At least one Petrova female cared about advancing their family.
When the clock strikes eight times, Ansel Wolfsbane can finally bring himself to relax.
Jackson- his second-in-command- would be taking over for the next forty-eight hours, when the King would be celebrating at the ball and then resting the day after before settling down to begin his duties.
And he, Ansel, would be attending the ball as a guest.
He checks his appearance in the mirror, making sure that every part of the white tie tuxedo in place before he leaves the bedroom he had been assigned since the late King's death.
He didn't like sleeping in the palace, missing the privacy, peace and quiet of his home in the suburbs, however, during the last few months, it had been easier to crash at the palace than to waste time on the commute back and forth.
He strides through the halls, from the private rooms into the more public areas of the palace and hears the sounds of chatter and laughter up ahead. He melds easily into the crowds of ballgowns and tuxedos, keeping his movements precise and considerate of the servants who were gliding through the room holding drink platters aloft.
The chandeliers were blazing with light, the gilt framed mirrors shone, and the plush red carpets were rich and soft underfoot. He returns the smile of one of the courtiers and then reaches out instinctively as the Prince Henrik races past him,
"Where are you going?" he demands, falling back easily into his role,
"To the eastern balcony!" Prince Henrik blurts excitedly, "I wanna see the crowds!"
Alone? On the balcony, closest to the gates and therefore the crowds? Absolutely not.
"You can go to the window but not outside," Ansel tells him, "It's cold out there and then come back before the dancing starts."
Prince Henrik rolls his eyes but when he darts off, Ansel locates one of his men and motions for him to follow the young boy.
He makes his way to the edge of the room, by the grand double staircases leading to the ballroom and even without intending to, he scans the crowd for weapons or any threats.
He holds his hands behind his back and watches the nobility, politicians, diplomats and celebrities mingle and drink, nibble on the fine delicacies offered and keep an eye out for the royal family.
He sees a model stalk across the room and recognizes Miranda Petrova, with a placid smile on her face but murder in her eyes.
He wonders if Katerina having gone into King Elijah's rooms was the reason they were running late for the ball?
He smirks at the idea and is about to locate Aiden and have him send champagne and food up to the King's rooms and cause further delay when he sees a flash of blonde hair and is distracted.
At first thought, he swore that he had seen the Princess Rebekah, but he realizes quickly that she would never wear the blue gown currently draping the beautiful girl making her way cautiously through the room.
Ms. Forbes stretches up on her toes, clearly looking for a familiar face and Ansel raises his chin slightly, catching her attention and she begins navigating her way towards him with clear relief written over her pretty features.
Ansel isn't one for a great deal of small talk so he wonders whom he can introduce Caroline to when he sees that he wasn't the only one who had noticed her arrival.
Niklaus didn't look like he had taken a breath in the last thirty seconds, having gone so still that Ansel momentarily panics that he'd been shot. But rather than keel over with blood spreading across his white shirt, he wets his lips and makes a path straight through the courtiers, nearly cutting Caroline off before she can even reach Ansel.
Because he worries that the first thing to come out of Niklaus' mouth will be foolish, he makes sure to speak first,
"You look lovely tonight, Caroline," he compliments smoothly, "Blue is a nice colour on you."
She smiles graciously and turns to Niklaus as he appears at her side, tucking his phone into his pocket.
"Thanks for sending me a dress from the royal wardrobe," Caroline says to him,
"I didn't realize that we'd need so many outfits for today."
The Royal Wardrobe?!
Ansel's knowledge of fashion history was a little weak, but the royal wardrobe had been decommissioned during Queen Freida's lifetime. When tailors had gone out of fashion- for lack of a better term- and fashion houses had come into vogue, the idea of rooms filled with material to be made into outfits for the royal family had been declared expensive and unnecessary.
Now, the only use for the wardrobe was keeping the ceremonial outfits necessary for important occasions and try as he might, Ansel couldn't remember the blue ballgown with hints of silver having been worn by Esther or Rebekah.
"It was no trouble," Niklaus covers hastily, shooting an unnecessary pleading glance to Ansel who feels slightly offended that he was considered a threat to this ruse.
"By the way, Katty wanted to meet us upstairs quickly."
Ansel sees Caroline's momentary confusion before she places the nickname and is swept away by Niklaus, his hand pressing on her lower back in a tentative manner.
He watches the two of them disappear and notes that he's not the only one doing so.
Countess Genevieve is staring at Ms. Forbes with undisguised hatred and a hint of calculation that makes Ansel want to warn her off.
The doors to the ball room open, silently signaling for everyone to enter and Ansel quickly checks to ensure that Henrik back inside before the string quartet in the upstairs balcony begins.
When the dance floor remains empty, he looks about and notes for the first time that King Elijah has failed to arrive to his own party.
He clenches his hand into a fist in concern before reminding himself that if something were wrong, Aiden would have notified him, besides his security team would be keeping an eye on the royal apartments.
He forces himself to relax and surveys the room, spotting the Princess Rebekah beside her two half-siblings.
The last ball the princess had attended, she had been wearing a pink frilly gown that had made Ansel think of an icing covered cupcake. Now, she was wearing a tight green dress that didn't look suitable for breathing or excessive movement. Her hair was dead straight and she had the haughtiest look on her face.
Mr. and Ms. Black's excessive love of privilege and entitlement must be rubbing off on her.
With the idea of rescuing her in mind, Ansel strides across the room and bows respectfully to her,
"Your highness," he greets, "You look beautiful tonight."
The flattered smile on her face is the same one she'd worn when he'd given her this compliment at her first ball when she was twelve years old. He was the first grown-up man she had ever danced with outside of her lessons and without meaning to, a tradition had been set whereby his first dance of the night was always with her.
He holds his hand out now as she lifts a corner of her skirt but Mr. Black clears his throat pointedly, catching their attention before speaking.
"Princesses don't dance with servants."
Servant?
Ansel couldn't remember the last time he'd been called that by anyone who wasn't the late King Mikael. He was so surprised that he froze, no response coming to his mind.
The declaration had been loud enough that a few people nearby had stopped talking and were trying to watch the scene unfold out of the corner of their eyes.
Ansel's hand is still held out, palm up for the princess whose own hand was hanging in the air but instead of sliding it into his calloused palm as she had done more times than he could count, she withdraws and puts it on her hip.
"Princesses don't dance with servants." She parrots, looking over his shoulder.
He understands the dismissal and steps backward, managing at the last second to click his heels together before he bows sharply and turns away. The crowd doesn't part for him respectfully, but fearfully, as if he was a leper contagious by touch alone.
More than anything, the people around him were quick to detect a snub and a fall in favor. They were studying him now with blatant appraisal, trying to determine just how bad his situation was.
Except one steps into his path, cutting off the escape he had planned on making and holds out her hand,
"May I have this dance?" Katerina speaks loudly, pointedly, barely framing the request as a question, her body already twisted slightly to the dance floor and Ansel automatically takes her hand.
The waltz is an easy one and with only three couples dancing, the two of them glide about the floor with ease,
"Thank-you." Ansel murmurs, keeping his voice low and his lips restrained so that nobody could eavesdrop or read his lips.
If Katerina hadn't been dancing, he suspects that she might have shrugged, "Anyone who wants to come after you can come through me first."
He hums and spins her around for the chance to glimpse over her head to where the princess was still standing with her siblings, he finds her glaring at them both and pointedly turns his back on her in a way he had never done before.
"How are you?" he asks his partner, "I know there was an incident in the square today."
Katerina quirked an eyebrow at his choice of words, "You mean when the teenage girl holding her little sister told me to go back to where I came from, or else and finished by calling me a gypsy whore?"
She pursed her lips before remembering they were being watched and gives him a winning smile,
"I've had a wonderful day!"
He ignores that lie and sees the fear set in the young woman's shoulders, making a note to have the situation investigated later. It wouldn't do to have the future queen frightened of the people, of the crowds that gathered to watch the royal family.
"I would give my life to see you safe," Ansel reminds her, "And more to see you happy."
The music fades away on the strings of a violin and Katerina steps back from his embrace, curtseying deeper than either of their stations permitted,
"You're the only one I would trust completely with either scenario." She replies before moving away in a swish of skirts.
He assumes that she's heading to Elijah's arms for the next dance so he's heading to a small, quiet corner where he can confer with Jackson before he instinctively checks over his shoulder and sees her in conversation with the young Mr. Salvatore and his fiancée.
Concern sets in and Ansel scans the crowd, not seeing the King anywhere.
Katerina had arrived without the king.
He stalks back over to her, nearly colliding with Ms. Bennett,
"Where is he?" he demands, barely remembering to keep his voice low and Katerina's shoulders drop, aware that she's in trouble with him.
"Outside," she admits, "With Klaus and Caroline, he didn't want to go in right away so I told them to go out into the gardens with him."
He's off-duty but that doesn't stop him cutting a path through the crowd, not bothering to feign casual indifference as he clatters down the stairs, past latecomers as he pulls his earpiece and comm. device from his shirt pocket,
"Does anyone have eyes on the King?" he asks, receiving a chorus of negative responses from his team.
He enters the gardens at a brisk pace and scans the immediate area, ignoring the smokers as he tries to figure out where the King and Prince would be.
Niklaus was attracted to Caroline, like as not he would want to show her the most picturesque part of the gardens, however, there was a quick chill setting in for the evening.
The gazebo on the edge of the winter garden was hidden from side of the palace by an ancient white oak tree with flowers creeping up the stone, dropping petals and leaves into the small space. It caught the moonlight and blocked out the morning sun. Many a time, his security team had stumbled upon sleeping lovers and been forced to send them home before they were caught by the gardeners.
Ansel hears soft laughter and comes upon Niklaus and Ms. Forbes hovering at the entrance to the gazebo, their heads bent together as they talked but this time, he doesn't feel guilty about intruding on their moment,
"Where is your brother?" he questions, looking about for any sign of the king and Niklaus' head shoots up, in surprise and with a flash of guilt in his eyes.
Guilt that causes Ansel's heart to drop into his stomach.
The gazebo had the added benefit of being very near the secret passageway that led from the Palace.
"He's the King," Niklaus tries to argue as Ansel turns away from him, "He can do what he wants."
"Sound off." Ansel roars into his speaker, disappointment turning into cold fury when he hears the king's security personnel reporting their numbers and locations across the frequency.
The King had snuck out of the palace without informing him, and onto the streets of the capital that were currently flooded with people.
"Go inside and find Katerina," he snaps at the prince, "Do whatever she tells you to try and hide the fact that his majesty is wandering about the streets without any protection whatsoever. If word gets out about this, there'll be panic and chaos."
Heads would roll over this.
Coronations weren't something that happened every day.
That was the point that her friends had made to drag her out of her apartment to the party the Board of Directors of the Symphony Hall had given permission to be hosted on the roof of the building.
Everyone who worked in the Hall had been invited, most of them not having even tried to find a spot along the procession route- people had been setting up there since dawn- and every restaurant, bar or café that had a view of the route had been booked out for months.
So, Gia had gone along and tried to pretend it was a regular party even as the flat screens were set up on the roof, the tech guys chatting excitedly to one another as they played with the wires and were threatened by the Primary Guest Conductor not to break anything.
It was a beautiful day and she sat in the sunlight with her coworkers, next to Gervais, a rather pretentious pianist who was furious over not having scored the gig playing at the coronation ball tonight and was trying to make himself feel better by mansplaining the monarchy to her.
If nothing else, it was interesting to hear about Elijah from another perspective.
"His first year will be the most important," Gervais begins, pausing to inhale on his e-cigarette, blowing the vapor out of the side of his mouth,
"It'll set the tone for the rest of his reign and let us know whether he's going to be progressive or just another king like his father and grandfather."
"He's already shown that he isn't," her friend Lana objects, "He dismissed his father's ministers and is appointing people based on merit, not nepotism."
"Well…yeah, but that was an easy one," Gervais counters, "That's…a token effort, coming to power and scrapping the most obvious form of corruption in your government? Any politician would have done that."
"Not if they didn't have to," Lana argues, "After all, it's not exactly like we can vote him out."
Gia winces the moment she says this and the faces of everyone in the immediate vicinity falls.
Gervais wasn't only pretentious but he was a pretentious champagne socialist, which meant that he argued for revolution, overthrow of the monarchy and the installation of a democracy as the first step on the road to a socialist utopia.
Not because he didn't love capitalism and the class structure but because so far, he had been unsuccessful in his attempts to be accepted into the upper echelons of Valhallan society. He had actually bragged that if he had been accepted to play at the ball he would have caught the eye of the king or some high-ranking courtier who would have recognized his talent and become his patron.
However, possibly because the manager is within ear shot, he doesn't launch into a spiteful attack against those born into privilege but instead, just shrugs,
"Maybe we can't vote him out yet, but it's the twenty-first century and we're well overdue for more meaningful elections that the ones we have in our counties. We should have an elected officials that meet directly with the King, besides…" he pauses to blow more vapor into the faces of those around him, "We have one thing that our parents didn't- social media- this King has to improve his act because, unlike his father, we can record his every act in public and expose any secret he has."
Gia tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and follows the crowd who head down to the entrance hall to watch the carriages pass through out the large windows.
The symphony hall had been renovated in the early seventies to protect the façade at the front of the building and they had extended the space with glass ceiling, walls and cobblestone floor. The sun beats down on them with only a few panes between them and the outside crowds as they stand waiting.
"See!" Lana points as a golden carriage approaches along the road, "That'll be the royal siblings, Kol, Rebekah, and Henrik."
Gia sees the blonde hair of the Princess Rebekah and remembers the night the girl had stood in her apartment and spoken to her with a haughty tone that hadn't disappeared even when she'd been asking for her help.
She hadn't spoken to her since that day but she had told her that she would contact her when the moment was right.
She had seen Elijah only a few times, not as regularly as she'd used to, which he'd promised her wasn't any fault on her part but because he was so busy these days. And being watched obsessively by his courtiers and those who were eager to find dirt on him. Those who didn't like the changes he was planning to make to the monarchy and were looking for ways to blackmail him.
She had been horrified but he'd assured her that it was being dealt with, one Giuseppe Salvatore who was more than able to handle the situation for him.
When she'd taken off his shirt and pants, she hadn't seen any marks on his skin and aside from the bags under his eyes, he looked healthy, just exhausted.
"Oh," Lana's voice brings her back into the moment, "I think that's his fiancée."
Katerina Petrova.
Gia had seen photos of her, had read the trashy magazines that had covered her repeatedly since she'd returned to Valhalla, even as she'd pretended not to care about her.
She was conventionally beautiful, intelligent, graceful and charming. According to the magazines anyway because Rebekah gave another version of the same woman- scheming, destructive, cruel and selfish.
And she's going to believe the girl who interacts with her every day over the magazines who will write whatever is going to sell the most copies.
Besides, considering how many beautiful women Elijah had been exposed to since he was a teenager, it would have taken more than a pretty face to be the one who ended up with the ring on her finger, she would have had to outlast all the competition and you couldn't do that just by being a sweetheart.
"What d'you think about her?" Gia finds herself asking her friend who shrugs,
"Her family is super nice."
Gia blinks in surprise, "You've met them?"
Lana nods, "Yeah, when I played first chair during Scheherazade, I met her parents and her father was really interested in the music, her mom is nice too," she shrugs again, "I'm sure we'll see her up close soon enough."
Gia clears her throat, thinking that having to meet Katerina Petrova personally would be mortifying for her and when she finds out that the King's carriage will be last in the procession, she heads upstairs under the pretext of getting another drink.
Lana is her closest friend in Valhalla and she's worried that she'd expose herself if she stood there when Elijah went past.
So, she drinks and chats with her friends, eats the sandwiches, chips and other stuff that was brought to the party, they lie in the glass atrium and let the sun warm them enough to lull them into a relaxing silence until night falls and they foolishly stagger into the crowds looking for a bar that wasn't stupidly overcrowded.
Lana, Sam and some of the other native Valhallan's decide that they all need to see Lothbrok square lit up and with the food stalls selling roasting meats and mulled wine, so Gia finds herself dragged along even though it's loud, she's tired and the press of bodies irritates her.
It's after ten and tomorrow was a work day, she just wants to be in bed, under her doona in her comfy pj's.
Instead, she finds herself covering her ears, "What's with the shouting?!" she demands, turning to Sam who is the tallest in the group, and he stands on his toes to try and see what was happening,
"They're shouting the king's name," he tells her unnecessarily before his eyes widen,
"Shit, he's in the square!"
Gia frowns and they're pushed forward in the momentum of the crowd, "Who?"
"The King!"
There are benches on the sidewalk in the square and Gia climbs up onto one of them, pulling Lana and Sam up with her and she follows the movement of the people, to the very center of the square, where like the eye of the storm, one man stood surrounded by cheering, shouting people.
Elijah.
He was right there.
Gia's heart stops and she watches him, startled that he was there.
She had known that Elijah could be surprisingly normal considering the life he had been born into, really down-to-earth and everything, but the idea that a king could just walk out of the palace and start talking to people was incomprehensible to her.
But that's what he's doing, he's standing there in a regular white shirt and suit pants, having his hands grabbed and shaken, being dragged into hugs and bending down to listen to people shouting in his ear. All while smiling brilliantly and with clear excitement.
Someone starts a chant that fills the square, which even without speaking the language properly, Gia can understand to mean, 'Long live the King'
The chanting is so loud that it's almost deafening, seeming to reach up to the sky and touch the stars as the square fills with more and more people, who crowd into the streets, waving their arms as they try to move forward to reach their king.
Gia looks around her and sees that even Gervais is there, chanting along with everyone else, just as much a fan as every last citizen in the square.
She hadn't really understood what Elijah meant to his people until now. She hadn't understood that they just supported him but really loved him, that they actively wanted him as their king and believed in him.
He wouldn't stand a chance of hearing her over the crowd but as she watches him, she finds herself imagining standing at his side and being that loved too.
"Long live the King"
"Long live the King"
The chanting can be heard from the ball room and the guests crowd into the windows and out onto the balcony as Katherine realizes that the charade is over.
Picking up her skirts, she slips from the room and hurries down the grand staircase, biting her lip and looking over her shoulder to make sure that she isn't being followed.
"Careful you don't lose a shoe, Katty,"
She gasps and nearly loses her footing on the plush red runner carpet, gripping the gilt banister as she glances over to see Kol standing on the floor below her,
"I would hate to have to rescue you from evil step-sisters." He continues, throwing back a glass of champagne and she figures that he's drunk,
"Cute," she drawls, descending the stairs, "Come with me."
"Where?" he asks, even as he follows her, nearly running into her when she spins back around to face him, reaching into his jacket pocket, she finds his phone and shoots a message to Klaus.
"To the Palace gates," she tells him, "Your brother is in the square."
The page opens the doors for her and servants are hurrying ahead to the entrance hall, clearly worried about the commotion taking place so close to their palace.
"Finn is in the square?" Kol snorts, before comprehension dawns, "Wait…Elijah is in the square?!"
She nods, touching her engagement ring nervously as the front doors open, the cold air blowing in and sending goosebumps up and down her arms,
"He is," she confirms, watching nervously as the security team quickly gathers in front of the gates, "Ansel is getting him now."
She hopes.
"Fuck," Kol gasps, "Shit…look at that crowd…if something goes wrong…if there's a stampede…"
"Don't!" Katherine snaps, interrupting him as sweat dampens her arm pits and her knees tremble, she wants to wrap her arms over her chest but can't look so casual and unladylike right now. She has to appear calm and collected, as if Elijah throwing himself into a crowd of people who could kill him in an instant was something she had known about the entire time and completely supported.
"Long live the King!"
"Love live the King!"
In a second that chant, could become "Long live the Revolution!"
She would lose everything.
She sees Ansel slipping out through the gate house, pushing his way through the crowd, unable to use a weapon or loud instrument of any kind lest he start a panic.
One of the security team is standing near her, and she hears over his communications device ten minutes later when Ansel finally gets to Elijah's side and begins herding him back towards the palace.
Except that the crowd is moving with him, following him and when the security team opens the gates, hordes of people push them open further and spill into the palace grounds, drunken, laughing people who are carried away by the events of the day.
Security is shouting at them, trying to get them back but there are too many and a silent alarm is sounded, many more guards rushing from the palace.
Katherine is frozen on the stairs, wanting to rush backwards into the ballroom, into the King's chambers but Elijah is still in the crowd.
Kol has a hand on her arm, "It's fine, Katty," he's saying, "It's fine."
He's recognized as the excited crowd grows in number, exhilarated to find themselves so close to the palace and not understanding that they are trespassing. People come forward to hug him and somewhere a flash of a camera goes off so Katherine instinctively stretches her lips upward, smiling and forcing herself down the steps, to say hello.
"This is so awesome!"
A woman screams this at her and she smiles, allowing herself to be pulled into a hug as a beer is splattered across her couture ballgown.
She is released and looks around frantically for Kol, seeing him being dragged into a group of men who have their arms across each other's shoulders and are singing a bar song. The golden glow of the entrance hall is so welcoming, and she begins climbing the stairs when a hand on her arm pulls her backwards and she stumbles down three steps, before being whirled around to face a red-nosed, red-cheeked drunk man, "Give us a kiss, Queenie!" he screams an inch from her face and she instinctively recoils,
"Sorry," she laughs around her rising scream, "I'm engaged!"
She holds up her hand, showing the ring but the man lurches forward with alcohol soaked breath and she nearly slips in her heels as she tries to get away, she wants to scream, to scream for help, to punch this man in the face, her flight or fight instinct is activated but if she does any of the above things she'll be vilified by society.
Help.
She needs help.
She needs…
"Hi!"
A gloved hand on the man's arm, pressing on his pressure points, making him release Katherine until he turns to see the face attached to the arm. Caroline smiles at him prettily and holds up her phone,
"Can I get a selfie?"
She's pretty enough and he's drunk enough that he goes along with it, bending to get his face in the shot while hands land on Katherine's arms and the scream nearly escapes her before she hears the voice in her ear, "It's Josh," he tells her, "Come with me, ma'm."
He links an arm through hers and practically marches her back to the steps, almost lifting her off her feet until they are in the entrance hall which is being manned by servants determined not to let anyone who wasn't permitted past the doors.
She's deposited against the wall and reaches out blindly until her hand comes into contact with something cool and hard. She looks down and sees a stand with a vase of flowers on it and lets it keep her upright while the chaos whirls around her.
Klaus tries to dart outside but is forcibly held back by the guards and Kol returns inside soaked in beer and spluttering as he wipes his eyes. He's ordered by security to stand next to her so they can keep track of who is out there that isn't supposed to be.
"Caroline," she hears the name and sees Klaus shouting at the team, "Caroline Forbes needs to be brought inside now."
"I'm here," she announces, appearing on the steps, looking calm even as her hair is falling out of place and she's missing a glove, "Katherine, are you okay?"
No.
She needs a valium, a strong drink and a joint.
She needs the doors to be slammed shut so she can feel safe.
"Close the doors," she whispers under her breath, thankfully in the Romani tongue,
"Fuck Elijah, close the damn doors."
Thankfully no-one understands her and she focuses on catching her breath before standing up and holding her hands together in front of her,
"Would everyone please join me as we return to the celebrations?" she requests, the courtiers having gathered in the hall and on the steps,
"It would be a shame to have all that champagne go to waste."
"Fuck the champagne!" someone calls down, "Where's the fucking king?"
She swallows, "He's fine," she lies, "He's with Ansel and he's…"
"Here!"
Ansel's shout echoes through the hall and Katherine twists her torso to see him stumbling into sight, he is gripping Elijah's arm and practically dragging him across the threshold as the king continues waving and calling to the crowds.
"Shut the doors!" he orders and the servants hastily comply, half the security team still outside.
Katherine turns around fully and manages to walk on shaky legs to Elijah's side, noting with dismay his torn sleeves, the scratches on his face, neck and arms and his watch has been stolen.
But he's smiling, absolutely beaming with sheer joy,
"That was wonderful," he breaths as she grips his forearms to keep herself upright, "Katerina, they love me!"
She wants to slap him, to scream at him for having been so stupid, for having risked so much but nearby, a woman clears her throat, catching her attention and she sees her mother in her peripheral vision. She reaches up to rub the corner of her eye, a Petrova signal for press.
The documentary crew was still watching them.
"Of course they love you," she laughs, stretching up to kiss him on the lips, the one place on his lower face not covered in lipstick stains.
"A little too much." She jokes, wiping a bit of purple lipstick from his chin.
"Please," she tells the courtiers, "Return to the ball, His Majesty will be along shortly, once he's cleaned up."
She takes Elijah's hand and begins walking him to the stairs, judging him too wound up by the crowds and too distracted to find his own way and she passes Damon who was standing at the top of the staircase with Bonnie behind him, "I need a hit," she tells him in Italian, "Meet me in the King's chambers."
They're followed by a veritable crowd, all the way to the King's sitting room, where Ansel waits until everyone has filed in before shutting the doors. He does a quick check of the crowd and sees that only the two elder princes and the Petrova-Salvatore clan is there and takes a deep breath, stalking over to Elijah with a dark look on his face.
"If you ever act that foolish again," he says to him in an ominous tone, "I will quit this job and never come back."
He clearly wants to say more but he settles for taking another breath, giving a bow so sharp that it was almost a slap to the face, walking over to the windows and taking out his communications device, speaking into it rapidly as he tried to sort out the security team still trying to herd the citizens off the palace grounds.
Elijah seems startled at such a display from Ansel and is clearly about to argue with him when Miranda comes forward,
"He's just worried about you," she murmurs in a mothering tone,
"We were all a little shaken by the sheer noise but it was a wonderful display."
She begins fussing over him, clucking her tongue at the torn clothes and trying to shuffle him to his rooms to change. Meanwhile, Alexander has taken Katherine by her bare shoulders and she starts at the touch,
"I have had enough of being pulled about by men tonight," she snaps, shaking her father's hold of her and going straight to the wet bar in the corner, pouring a finger of bourbon into a tumbler and throwing it back, Damon appears at her side and she pours another finger, handing him the glass before leading him into the antechamber, "Light it up," she orders and he draws the joint out of his inner pocket,
"Yes, Your Majesty," he teases and she gives him a warning look, "You really want to fight me tonight?"
He shakes his head and puts the joint in his mouth, striking a match off the wall and lighting it up before inhaling and handing it to her, opening the window to blow the smoke out.
The chant is still alive, but mixed up with other shouts and songs, somewhere a bottle is smashed and she jumps at the noise.
"You okay?" Damon asks, quietly, as she inhales deeper than necessary, chasing the buzz as quickly as she can,
"Of course," she lies, laying the sarcasm on thick as she rolls her eyes, "It was an amazing display of love."
He snorts, "It was fucking stupid is what it was, I'm pretty sure father dear nearly swore tonight, second time in history."
Katherine stills, "Nadia," she gasps, "Where is…"
"Safe," he swears, "When the security ran out of the room, Giuseppe took Nadia and went straight to the Cousin's Palace. He let me know when they got to Stefan and Elena's rooms."
Katherine breathes a sigh of relief and leans against the window, trying to find relaxation in her high,
"One Petrova safe at least," She murmurs, giving him a sad smile, "I'm sorry, Damon."
He frowns, exhaling out the window, "For what?"
"Asking you about your niece," she mumbles, suddenly thirsty and wishing that the wet bar was closer, "If she hadn't been born, you and Elena might've…"
"If that had happened, I would never have met Bonnie," he interrupts, "And then I'd really have reason to be pissed at you."
He doesn't put his hands on her but bumps her with his hip, "Come on, Katty, party time."
Elijah emerges into the antechamber seconds after Damon flicks the joint out the window, he's dressed in a proper tuxedo and his face has been washed of the lipstick, with a spray of cologne to hide the stench of beer. He looks slightly downcast but walks over and takes Katherine's hand,
"Are you ready, Katerina?"
She can smile easily now and so she does, "Of course, my love."
A/N- Thanks for reading!