"Princess…"
Castielle slowly turned her blue gaze from the fluttering butterfly to behind her shoulder. Hannah, her personal servant, was standing halfway between the outside and the inside of the Royal Greenhouse, shuffling nervously between her feet.
"Hello, Hannah. How are you this morning?"
The corner of her lips turned upwards at her servant's blush and slight nod of her head.
"I'm doing quite well; how about yourself, m' lady?"
Castielle turned her head back around to the side as she saw a bumble bee land on the tip of a nearby Gardenia plant, its soft yellow and black body contrasting against the ivory-hued flower. Shuffling a little closer on the balls of her feet, she closely examined the little creature collect pollen. If it wasn't for the sound of Hannah's feet across the dirt path behind her, she would have forgotten to respond in favor of watching the busy bee work.
"I am… doing quite fine actually. Thank you for asking, Hannah."
The bee, startled from the puffs of breath as the Princess spoke, launched itself off the Gardenia to float across the Greenhouse for another source of pollen. Unfazed, Castiel pushed aside a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she lazily looked back to see her flustered hand maiden with her gaze down.
"Was there something you needed from me, Hannah?"
Shaken out of her admiration, Hannah stepped forward, making sure at first to close the door behind her to prevent anything from coming in or going out. Clearing her throat, she looked up to see the Princess looking up at her from the ground, kneeling in place.
"Y-yes, my Lady… His H-highness has summoned you to the throne room… He wishes to see you immediately."
Sighing, Castielle slowly rose to her feet, making sure to brush off any stray soil or grass from her indigo, silk garb. Readjusting the flow of her dress and readjusting the golden bands and bangles from her arms and wrists, she stepped forward, walking out the door with Hannah following closely behind her.
Princess Castielle was known throughout the lands as the Kingdom's most beloved. She walked with such grace that made Hannah fall in love with the Princess even more than she already had. Although she was only 13 years old, and an Omega to boot, the Kingdom loved her. Everyone, even the blind and deaf could see that she had such a kind and loving nature that made the people want her affections; and in turn, Castielle loved her Kingdom as much as a 13 year old could. Some believed that it was her Omega designation that gave her such a motherly-affection for her people.
Even with her persona, Castielle was gorgeous at such a young age, destined to be one of the most beautiful royals that Caelum has ever seen. Even Hannah could see that whichever Alpha Prince that catches her eye would be a lucky one. Her Highness would attract a suitable mate and she would have beautiful pups with her high cheek bones and her sharpened nose. Her dark, brown, flowing hair shapes her strong jaw and flawless face. Even her piercing, bright, blue eyes would grace her Alpha with such love and affections.
Looking up, Hannah almost stumbled into the Princess when she stopped at the doors of the Throne room. She was so lost in thought; she hadn't realized that they walked throughout the Castle to where they were now. Coughing, Hannah fixed herself upright in order to cover her carelessness, making sure to glare at the two soldiers who were snickering quietly.
Castielle turned to said two foot soldiers guarding the doors and smiled in a little smile of hers that had their hearts flutter.
"Good morning, Daniel. Good morning, Bartholomew."
Your Grace," the two spoke in unison before they stepped forward and opened the door in synchronization. As Castielle stepped forward, the two bowed in reverence before closing the doors behind her, leaving her in the presence of his Highness.
Castielle never really liked the Throne room. Even though she grew up and made appearances for events as her duty as the princess, the room was always too gaudy for her. The Throne itself was a bit tacky in her opinion; solid gold, intricate engravings in Enochian, solid gems encrusted within and the softest silks and satins for padding. Oiad, help me. Castielle barely contained her urge to roll her eyes whenever she saw it.
On the throne sat Metatron, angled sideways as he rested his chin on a propped up fist. Behind him to his right was Inias, his personal servant. In his hand held a parchment in which Castielle thought nothing of it. It was normal for Inias to carry around some kind of document for Metatron to look over.
Walking forward, Castielle stopped short of the stairs leading to the Throne, bowing in respect to the man on the throne.
"Uncle, you called for me?" Metatron jumped slightly, turning to look at his niece. Grinning, he sat up straight, folding his hands in front of his face.
"Castielle, ol hoath… I did in fact call for you; which is good that you came as soon as I did. I have important matters to discuss with you and they are very urgent."
Holding his hand out without a glance, Inias silently stepped up to place the parchment into his hand. Smirking, Metatron waved the scroll in Castielle's direction.
"Do you know what this is, my sweet?"
Shaking her head no, she waited for her uncle to continue.
"This… is a proposal! From King John Winchester of Lauregaea." Giggling, he continued. "This is a proposal of joining our two kingdoms, ol hoath. An alliance through marriage!"
Metatron's cheeks were a rosy red, his body vibrating in uncontainable excitement. Castielle looked at her uncle with narrowed eyes and a pinched expression.
"That is rather… commendable, Uncle. But… what does it have to do with me?"
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he turned to his beloved niece.
"Castielle… Ol hoath…" Standing, Metatron walked down the steps of the throne, bringing a hand to her ace. He brushed her cheek with a thumb as he whispered. "It is a proposal of marriage between you and his heir, the Crowned Prince, Dean."
"What!?" Castielle hissed in between her teeth. Usually so calm and reserved in nature such as a stereotypical omega, Castielle allowed herself to retaliate against this one thing. "Have you already responded?" The words felt like sand in her mouth, scratching at her throat.
Metatron snickered before circling behind her, gently pulling her hair back behind her shoulders like a thoughtful predator. He leaned forwards and sighed softly in her ear. Once Castielle began to feel as if time stopped, Metatron whispered in her ear, "Yes, I have ol hoath. I sent a messenger with a reply, right before you came."
Castielle wasn't sure if she heard correctly, a sudden ringing in her ear as blood began to rush to her head making her feel light headed.
"W-what? What, pray tell, was your response, Uncle?" Castielle chewed on her inner cheek, trying to prevent herself from bursting out with something she would probably later regret.
"Well, my little omega," a word that for the first time in her life made her flinch. "I said yes, you and Dean are to be mated, and if it all goes according to plan, in three moons."
Wrenching herself from her uncle, infuriated she growled as silver began to bleed out into her irises.
"I did not consent to this, Uncle—nor do you have the authority, Beta."
At the blatant show of disrespect, Metatron growled and in a blink of an eye, he had stepped right up with a hand wrapped tight around her throat, pinching tightly. Instinctively, Castielle exposed what little of her neck that she could, but with a last ounce of defiance, she kept her eyes on his face, looking straight into the copper of his eyes. Metatron was closing in with yellow, crooked teeth as he snapped at her in a show of dominance. She could feel the tears beginning to flow down her cheeks, burning by the heat of her Uncle's rank breath that seemed to come impossibly closer.
"You will show me the respect that I deserve, Omega!" Snapped his teeth once more, he dropped her heavily.
Castielle could feel the ghost of his fingertips around her neck, a ghost pain constricting her breath as her vision narrowed, blackening around the edges.
"I will do what I wish. I hold the crown—"
"As King Regent! You must forget that Michael is turning of age in the next moon. What does he have to say about this!?"
Metatron glared at his niece, still standing with her hand protectively wrapped around her neck. He saw her mouth opening in the form of a continuous retort before she doors of the Grand Hall opened. Smirking, he turned around to see Michael standing in the archway. In the corner of his eye, he saw Castielle run past into the arms of her approaching brother.
"Michael, thank Oiad that you are here. Uncle is abusing his rights as Regent, Brother. He is trying to send me away!"
Michael carefully gripped at his sister's arms and gently peeled her off of his person.
"Yes, I know," he frowned at her frantic behavior, unbecoming of a lady of royalty. In that instant, he saw the hurt and betrayal flicker in her eyes as she took a step back. "Castielle, Ella."
"Do not call me that," she snapped.
Sighing, he continued, "This is to better our Kingdom, Sister. You know that Abaddon is gathering her troops for unknown reasons; we need to be prepared in case there is upcoming battle." He stepped forward, reaching out to touch his sister only falling short as she took a step back.
"Puppy, you're only 13. You are young, yes, but you are an omega that has a duty to her country."
Castielle bore her teeth, annoyed that for the second time that day she was being labeled as her second-gender.
"This is not fair," she hissed. "What happened to Equal in the Eyes of Oiad, Brother? Do you expect me to just be okay with this?"
Like an oncoming storm, Michael—for the first time—used his Alpha voice on his sister, voice booming like thunder as he felt the rise of his hackles in annoyance and regret.
"You will stop this, Castielle Jeanette Angelus, right this instant!"
Castielle slumped over, uncontrollable of her actions as her biology dictates her reactions to that of authority.
"This was a decision by Uncle and me, along with the King's Counsel. It is by decree, my first act as the coming King. I claim the Throne in less than a moon cycle, if you forgot Sister. I will not have you sully my rule as King of Caelum."
Digging her nails deep into the flesh of her palms, she quietly noted, "I have not had my first heat, yet." She kept her gaze at the floor, tears burning in her eyes.
"It will not matter. You are promised and duty bound to Dean Winchester. You will honour this promise and this contract."
Quickly wiping her face, Castielle looked up at her brother, face voice of any emotion.
"As you wish, Alpha." She looked to her Uncle, watching him in disgust as he chewed at his thumb in excitement. She gave a curt bow to the both of them and proceeded to walk towards the door.
"I'm sorry, Puppy," Michael quietly whispered. Castielle stopped in her tracks, avoiding the simple act of turning around and looking at her brother. Surely she had heard right, but at that moment she did not care. Without a word, she nodded at the soldiers to open the doors and proceeded to storm off to her room.
Not knowing when, Hannah was in step with Castielle, following three steps behind her. Her head was bowed in what looked like shame; which Castielle probably assumed it was due to the loudness of the events in the Throne room—they weren't exactly being quiet. Her room was quite far from the Throne room, however with every step; her annoyance was growing that much more. She needed to run.
Chewing her bottom lip raw, Castielle began to tear at her hands, ripping the rings off of her fingers and grabbing blindly at the circlet on her head. She threw them on the floor as she walked faster. She pulled up the edge of her dress and proceeded to rip it off her body, uncaring of such lewd display in public. Hannah, being the good servant that she was, was running around and picking up what she could, silent in shock at the Princess' unruly behavior.
Letting out a scream, Castielle started off on a sprint, progressively going into a run; her slippers flying off of her feet as she jumped, quickly transitioning into a small, black ball of fur, darting off quickly through the entrance of the castle and into the neighboring woods. It was seen as barbaric to let loose your wolf, she knew. Michael had let her know over and over growing up that Royals were supposed to be in control of their wolf, but at this moment she let her wolf consume her, letting her animalistic urge fill her up as she ran as if her life depended on it.
In this world there was a common knowledge; that there were two types of people: Shifters and Hybrids. A common trait of royalty all throughout the world was that they were all Shifters, seen right by whatever deity they believed in that Shifters were ordained and righteous; however even nobles and commoners could shift, but that was a trait resulting from gene mutation and variation. Hybrids were people who carry the wolf trait, which gives them designations in which every person is assigned; Alpha, Beta and Omega but they cannot shift. There are also a few other genders in between, but they are not that commonly placed.
In Caelum, the motto that had been passed down generations and generations was that everyone is equal in the eyes of Oiad. Castielle knew that in other places in the world there was a distinct hierarchy for designated genders: the Alphas are given status of power; they are strong and have qualities of a leader. The Betas were the physicians and the helpers, whereas Omegas were treated as the thing on the bottom of one's shoe. Omegas are breeders, left to stay at home, barefoot and pregnant, not a day in their life that went by without them waddling around as they should be in their rightful place, forced in a permanent state of pupped to satisfy the needs of their Alpha.
It broke her heart, of course. There are the occasional traditionalists in her Kingdom, but generally Castielle had never been stigmatized or controlled via gender inequality. She never understood how people could place a value on someone's life due to their designation. Castielle viewed her subjects all the same, and no matter what the person was designated as, they were still people that had feelings and needs. A doctrine filled with hate and segregation was a doctrine untaught in her heart—barbaric.
Huffing, Castielle padded up to a running stream to take a drink. Her muscles were aching, unused to the pull of her limbs as a wolf, seeing how it is only a skilled used for war and ceremony. She was tired, not only in body but in mind—she wasn't ready for marriage, let alone mating. She was only 13 years old, and although she knew that she had a duty to the country, it was still something hard to wrap her heart around. She loved her people, but to be forced into something that she should have a say in, she felt her heart tug at the betrayal and the coldness of her Brother's eyes as he placed her life and her future in the hands of another.
It was still mid-afternoon, the sun high in the sky when Castielle lay out on her tummy, tucking her paws under her chin. She quietly watched the gentle flow of the water, the ambience and the weight of the day slowly lulling her into a restless sleep.
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It must have been her dream, or it could have been the cold wind brushing against her fur that stirred her from her sleep. Castielle was curled in herself to keep in what little warmth she had as she slowly blinked her eyes open. It was dark, looking up she saw that it was in fact past sunset, a spectrum of colours painting the sky in a nautical twilight
"Shit," Castielle thought to herself. She slept for many hours and she was sure that Michael would be pissed that she had ran out from the castle, amongst a whole laundry list of whatever rule or decree that she broke today alone. Huffing, she picked herself back up to all four paws and started a steady trot back to the castle, maneuvering her way through the trees.
It wasn't that she ran out far, it was more that she ran out and around a lot to tire out, so the trek back to the castle did not take as long as she thought it would.
The soldiers at the gate bowed as they saw Castielle's wolf canter up to the entrance. She nodded at the both of them the best she could in her canine persona, as she walked passed into the main foyer of the Castle. Michael was patiently waiting at the top of the staircase, a steeled expression on his face with his arms folded behind his back in a militant posture.
"Where were you, Castielle?" Huffing, Castielle quickly shifted, standing up straight from her shifted crouched position. Michael awkwardly shuffled whereas Castielle ignored her brazen display of nakedness.
"Where are your clothes?" Sniffing, Castielle turned her gaze up at her brother.
"Hannah has them, Your Highness." Michael flinched at the detached attitude of his sister. Coughing into his fist, he began to take the steps down. Castielle held her ground as he took a couple steps shy from where she stood.
"I asked you a question that you failed to answer, Sister," he softly said. Messily grabbing her hair, she twisted and flicked it behind her shoulder, exposing her body even more.
"I was out. On a run," she replied stiffly, ignoring the pain that was radiating from her heart.
Stepping forward, Michael reached up with hand in which Castielle jerked away from. Her eyes flicked between his face and his frozen raised hand. After a moment, he proceeded to gently tuck a stray hair behind her ear.
"Ella, I am sorry, you know." Castielle scoffed her eyes narrowing in skepticism.
"If you truly were sorry Brother, then you would not have had listened to Uncle's proposal. And, you would have talked to me before making such a rash decision." Suddenly chilly, Castielle wrapped her arms across her chest. Sighing, Michael gave his baby sister a once over before removing his coat. Wrapping it around her shoulders, he rubbed her arms up and down to generate heat as she gripped the lapels of his jacket tight across.
"You know that I cannot take it back, Puppy. Even if it hurts me to do this, I promise; this will be a good thing." Carefully, he wrapped himself around his sister in an awkward but intimate embrace.
Michael knew his sister was never given much love or affection as a child growing up, which is probably what influences her so to give as much love and kindness to others—it is honestly one of his favorite traits of Castielle's. Their mother died giving birth to her, complications due to uncontrollable hemorrhaging, and their father grew ill not even a year after. As time passed, their father's dementia and fever progressed eventually leading to his passing, leaving Michael to be the one to care for his family. He was left that duty at the tender age of 7, leaving him the Crowned Prince while their Uncle Metatron took over as Regent.
They had siblings, of course, but really it was like it was only Michael and Ella left. Michael has a twin, Lucifer, and he loves him dearly; but it breaks his heart knowing that Lucifer was somewhere in the castle, housed away as he's being taken care of and treated for his madness.
There was another one, Gabriel, who left sometime 3 years ago, only after he hit his first rut. It could have been fear of being in line for the Throne or it could have been love, Michael never really knew his intentions for leaving. It was just a random night in which he left in the middle of night, leaving without a worse and the only thing he had left behind was his treasured horn.
Michael guessed that in some ways, it was better for him. Three Alpha males and an Omega sister would have been a hard-run family; not only tiring but stressful when he came to actually claim the Throne as his own.
Shaking out of his thoughts, Michael felt his sister's arms wrap around his waist. The front of his shirt felt suspiciously damp until he heard her sniff.
"Take it back, Mikey; take it back, Brother… I am not ready for this. Not yet." Shushing her gently, he held her tighter as he felt himself hurting inside with so much regret, it was almost visceral.
"I can't, Puppy." He kept his lips on her hair line as he bent his head forward to match her height. There was a long pause of silence, thick with tension. Concerned he asked, "have you eaten supper, yet?" Shaking her head, burying herself more into her brother's chest, she replied quietly.
"Not hungry…" Pulling slightly away, Castielle looked up at eyes not so different from her own, just before she looked back down again.
"How long until, Michael?"
Thrown by her question, he stopped to think for a moment.
"In three moons, the two of you will have a ceremony in Lauregaea. There, you will get married and perform the Ritual of Marks where he will claim you in the presence of the congregation." Michael began to card his fingers through Castielle's thick, dark locks.
"I do not even know what this Dean looks like. How will I know if he is a suitable mate? How—"
"Hush, Puppy. The Winchesters were invited to our Kingdom in which we will host a ball in their honour." Castielle huffed; of course they had it all planned out.
"When?" Pause. "When are they coming, Michael?"
"A fortnight." Breathing in shakily, Castielle nods minutely. Taking another step back, gaze lowered to the floor, she sniffed her tears away.
"There is an albatross around your neck, Brother. I hope it is all worth it in the end… if it does not tighten its noose any tighter than it has… Good night, Alpha." Curtsying respectively, Castielle turned into a corridor as she headed towards her chambers.
It was unsurprising to see Hannah stationed outside of her bedroom chambers; always loyal to the end. Although she was Castielle's handmaiden-slash-servant, Hannah was first and foremost raised as a soldier in Caelum's Royal Garrison. It was under her own volition that she retired to protect and serve the Princess. That was almost 10 years ago, making Hannah almost 27 years old.
It wasn't until Hannah rushed up to gather the Princess in her arms, leading her to the baths that she realized that she was crying once again. Hannah was silent as she removed Michael's jacket and picked out the leaves and twigs from spots in her hair, waiting for the bathtub to get ready.
Castielle was going to miss the young Alpha, she realized. She has to leave now before it's too late. She had to leave if she wants to escape from the unjustness of the situation.
Set, Castielle has decided that she was going to derive a plan to escape the Kingdom within the next fortnight; one of the only real powers that she would have over her own life before her life is ultimately dictated by an unknown Alpha.
If she didn't know better, even though she never thought this way or judged people for it; he was probably a stereotypical pig-headed, hot-blooded, knot-headed Alpha and although it is essentially abandoning her life and Kingdom Castielle has decided to take control and to leave, just like Gabriel had.
Determined, she is going to leave her life behind before she is sucked into a life that, in all honestly, is probably not a life worth living for.
Stepping into the steaming water, all the tension that Castielle hadn't known she had slowly began to ebb away. With Hannah at her side, she was gently lowered into the bathtub. Settling, Castielle breathed in deeply, soothing away her troubled mind.
"Hmm… is this Lavender oil?" Castielle tilted her head back, peeking out of the corner of her eye to see Hannah gather soaps and a sponge to help wash her body.
"Well, yes, Princess. I just thought that… that you might have needed to soothe your mind and help you sleep tonight." Shuffling consciously, she blurted, "Forgive me, I just assumed—"
Raising her hand, Castielle successfully silenced her servant and long term friend.
"It is quite alright, Hannah. You are correct, however… I am a little tense," Castielle chuckled. Hannah sheepishly smiled, ducking her head. Breathing in again, Castielle let out a quiet moan.
"Where in the world did you get the oil from?" Sitting upright and leaning forward, Hannah reached out to begin scrubbing at Castielle's outstretched arm.
"Joshua, m' lady. He's the Gardener that takes care of the green house… He's also in charge of the apothecary. So, after you left to go for you run, I went to him." Castielle breathed out, embarrassed.
"I apologize for my behavior, Hannah. It was very… ill-behaved of me to act that way. I assume that I left you in a bit of a shock?" Hannah laughed as she began to scrub the dirt away from Castielle's back.
"It was a bit alarming, mind you. Never in all my years of serving you have I seen Your Highness in such a… wild demeanor." Clearing her throat, she added quietly, "and it is not an inexcusable response… I apologize if I have overstepped my boundaries, Princess… but I do in fact understand as to why you did what you did. It was completely justifiable… which is why I went to Joshua to get the Lavender oil. It helps relieve both the body and the mind, according to him."
Humming, Castielle lolled her head to the side and lazily smiled at the Alpha at her side.
"Why are you so good to me, Hannah?" Hannah shrugged her shoulders as she continued to scrub Castielle's body.
"It is my duty, Princess. I vowed that I would protect you all those years ago." Smiling sadly, Castielle grabbed onto Hannah's calloused hands. Bringing it to her mouth, Castielle placed a gentle kiss on her fingers. Hannah's cheeks flared scarlet as if she had a fever, watching the Princess perform such an act; her heart fluttered rapidly.
"I never thank you enough, Hannah. You are always there for me and I do not ever show my appreciation for it—for you. So, thank you." Nodding, Hannah scrambled to continue washing Castielle's body.
The rest of the bath passed on in silence as Hannah lathered and rinsed Castielle's hair. Rinsing off any stray bubbles, Hannah gently pulled her out of the bathtub, holding onto her arm and waist as she stumbled in exhaustion. Taking the time, Hannah dried the Princess off and dressed her in fresh under garments and a silky, white night gown. Lastly, she placed Castielle in front of the vanity, despite her softly dozing off, and she brushed her hair straight free of knots.
Hannah watched as Castielle's eyes closed, fixing her gaze on the slight part of her full, pink lips.
Moments like these were the moments that Hannah lived for. Although Hannah was unlike other Alphas, with the demeanor of a Beta, the moment she laid her eyes on the Princess, all chubby cheeks and meaningless conversations, she wanted to love the Omega as her own. However, that could not be the case as she was just a simple foot soldier. She was nothing in worth compared to the beautiful Omega that she took as her charge. So, because she couldn't have her, she decided to do the next best thing and love her as her guardian and protector from the side. The day that Hannah gave up her sword and shield to the Garrison, she vowed to protect and care for that little girl.
Gently shaking her shoulders, Castielle responded with a grunt, a sliver of blue peeking out of her lids.
"Come on, Princess. Let's get you to bed." Castielle slowly stood, leaning heavily against Hannah as she carefully dragged the royal to the bed. For the second time that day, Castielle slept, not without the faint touch of lips on her temple. But then again, she could have just imagined that.