Chapter Three | Casual Royals
The castle is beautiful and vast.
He doesn't get the full and complete tour, because it's time for dinner, but instead he's at least treated to the fantastical sight of the family Christmas tree in the foyer. It's at least ten feet tall, with lights and ornaments that shine as bright as Emma's mother's smile as she describes every detail she can.
There are even a few gifts beneath, that he's assured are just boxes in wrapping paper for appearances. Apparently, they have another tree upstairs somewhere that they'll actually surround come Christmas morning.
If he wasn't intimidated enough by the sheer size of the castle, when they sit in the dining room with a soft holiday radio blessedly filling the silence, he finds he's not at all prepared for what a royal dinner looks like.
He's seen plenty of television and movies to know there are probably proper ways to eat a royal meal, including which forks to use. Suddenly, he wishes he'd paid attention when Liam tried teaching him about this sort of thing years ago.
Killian is seated next to Emma, across from her parents, who smile warmly at him after they settle into their chairs.
"So, Killian, what do you do?" David asks.
The dread that rises up within him is unlike any other. He swallows before he gathers the courage to speak up.
With a quick glance at Emma for courage, Killian smiles at Mr. and Mrs. Nolan as best he can and says with a convincingly unwavering voice, "Ah… I'm a bartender at my brother's bar. Sometimes I moonlight as a musician when we don't have any bands lined up to play."
David smiles. "Interesting. Do you play an instrument or-?"
Killian glances up when a servant comes alongside him to set his plate down and then he looks at Emma, who encourages him with a tiny smile.
"He plays guitar." Emma says on his behalf. "And he's really good. Maybe he'll play something for us."
He narrows his eyes slightly at her and she just grins. With his face burning ever so, he turns back to her parents and lifts his eyebrows and says, "Well, I suppose I could play something if you had a guitar I could borrow for a minute or two."
"Do we ever," Mary Margaret rolls her eyes. A plate is set down before her. "My husband loves collecting them, but never got around to learning how to actually play."
The king becomes seemingly affronted, "Hey! I took lessons… once."
Emma and Leo both laugh and the queen sighs adoringly. She shakes her head and stares at him. "Anyway, Killian, if you feel comfortable, we'd love to hear you play for us."
Somehow, the way Mary Margaret smiles at him helps him breathe just a little easier. He looks down at his plate, discovering tomato soup with grilled cheese and onion rings. Emma's favorites.
He glances over at her, finding her happily munching away at her onion rings.
The simplicity of the meal is slightly startling. He doesn't know what he should do, so he looks to Emma's parents and finds them handling the sandwich by hand and dipping it into the soup.
"So, do we have a date for the wedding yet?" Mary Margaret asks, practically jumping from her seat while Killian's heart nearly stops completely.
He and Emma's shoulders go stiff in panic, both of them having realized the same thing: this is happening. While they might have answers for all of her parent's potential questions planned, it's not something he thinks he wants to dive into just yet. He'd hoped maybe they could have the night to settle in first.
"Sweetheart, I thought we talked about this," David shakes his head. "We're not talking about the wedding at least until tomorrow."
The weight lifts from his shoulders, but only a little, when Emma's mother sighs, "Alright. Tomorrow. And I want all of the details."
They fall into a companionable silence for a minute or two, listening to the soothing Christmas song echo against the walls. Killian finds himself looking at Leo, then at David and Mary Margaret.
"I'll be honest, I didn't think royalty had grilled cheese for supper."
Mary Margaret smiles at him. "Well, it's Emma's favorite."
"We don't eat like you see on TV unless it's a holiday." Emma tells him.
"Ah." Killian cracks a grin. "So watching the Princess Diaries won't help me prepare for what's to come?"
Laughter fills the room, even Emma joining in, as the family considers the hilarity of his joke.
"We're… what did you say to your last girlfriend, Leo?" David asks, looking at his son.
Leo rolls his eyes slightly. "I said we're casual royals, but would you stop acting like I get a new girlfriend every week?"
David gives Killian a look that he has to smile ever so slightly at. He glances over at Leo, who dips his grilled cheese into the soup and has a hearty bite.
"What's the number up to?" Emma wonders playfully.
"Oh, it's got to be at least one a month," Mary Margaret says on a teasing sigh. Her eyes twinkle as she stares across the table at her son. "Don't worry, Leo, we'll try not to mix up the next one's name."
"Yeah, thanks for that." Leo shakes his head. He looks at Emma. "While you were gone, Mom and Dad turned into old people."
Emma laughs, almost choking on an onion ring. "They're not old, kid. Come on. Show some class."
Leo rolls his eyes again.
"Yeah, Leo," Mary Margaret scolds, "Emma brought her fiancé Bryan to dinner. Show some class."
It's quiet for a second before Killian starts laughing, loosening up the rest of the table to join in. He stares at Emma, finding her giggling so happily there are crinkles by her eyes.
The rest of the night goes infinitely better than he could have dreamed.
He has Mary Margaret, David, and Leo completely in stitches by the end of the meal, and they seem to like everything he has to share about his background and life.
It's interesting to see how much Emma's alike her parents, and how she acts around them as if she'd never left in the first place. He was right to say they'd love her regardless of if she had a fiancé or not. The Nolan's are probably the kindest people he's ever met.
He turns to Emma at the end of his riotous tale of something that happened between he and Liam, and finds that she's laughing even though she's heard this story a hundred times. He puts his arm around her on her chair and she looks up at him, awarding him the most gentle gaze he's ever seen from her.
Things calm down as his heart flutters wildly over something so insignificant and he turns back to her family.
"Well, it's getting late and I'm sure you need your rest. You've had a long day, haven't you?" Mary Margaret wonders even as she stands up.
Killian takes her lead and rises. He helps Emma out of her chair, much to her surprise, and takes her hand with a small smile and a wink.
"Where are we staying?" Emma asks. "The cottage in town or-"
"Oh, I thought you'd like to stay in your room."
Emma seems surprised. "You kept it?"
Mary Margaret gives Emma a hard look. "Of course we did. We knew you weren't gone for good. Do you need me to come with you upstairs or-?"
Emma glances up at him as if to beg him to shut her mother down for her so he shakes his head.
"No, I think Emma can manage to guide us. Thank you so much for dinner, Mrs. Nolan. I certainly appreciate your hospitality."
Mary Margaret blushes and smiles sweetly. "You're very welcome, Killian. I'm so glad you're here! We'll see you tomorrow! Lots planned!"
Killian grins and waves at David and Leo. "Good night!"
"Good night!"
It only takes them a few steps outside of the dining room for Emma to turn to him and release his hand. Her eyes are wide.
"They're in love with you."
Killian smirks. "Well, I am charming, aren't I?"
Emma hums skeptically. She walks him toward a staircase and gestures up. "It's a bit of a walk, I'll warn you right now."
She's not wrong. The walk, while long, is beautiful. The interiors of the castle are very well throughout and glamorous, although quite normal when he thinks about it. There are family photos on the walls and there are candles set out to give a delightful smell to the halls.
It's safe to say his assumptions about the way this weekend was going to go have been changed for the better. They are, in fact, casual royals, as Leo had said.
Finally, Emma comes to a stop in front of a door. She pauses for a moment before turning to him with her hand on the doorknob, already turning it.
"Don't… say anything," she says, pointing at him. "Be cool, Jones."
He throws his hands up in surrender while he follows her inside. "I won't say a thing."
Her bedroom, it turns out, is an apartment in size, with giant windows and hardwood floors and carpet where it's appropriate. It's comprised of a small kitchen, a sitting area made of chairs and a table, and a bedroom hidden behind a wall.
It goes without saying that the entire place is made all the more elegant by the Christmas tree filling out most of the room.
Emma closes the door behind him as he dumbly shuffles inside, trying to figure out where he should place his focus.
"It's so…"
"Shh. Don't say anything."
Emma moves past him and walks toward the bedroom side of things. He stares up at the chandelier hanging over the sitting area and moves slowly to join her.
Her bedroom is quaint and her bed looks remarkably cozy. He's surprised to find both of their suitcases sitting out waiting for them in her massive walk-in closet.
She's standing in the center of it, running her fingers through her hair worriedly as she leans down to unzip hers.
He sticks his thumb out toward the sitting area. "You have a chandelier in your sitting room."
Emma digs inside her suitcase. "I said don't say anything."
Killian's eyes are wide as he steps into her closet and he turns to look at the clothes that she must have left behind.
"Bloody hell," he says under his breath. "Emma-"
She looks up at him, pressing her PJs against her chest as she stands up again. "Welcome to the world I left behind."
"It's incredible." Killian says, still not able to wrap his mind around where they are at the moment. "Why'd you leave again?"
Emma has a small smile on her lips that fades away as she approaches him. She looks into his eyes and down again, swallowing.
"I left because I wanted to fall in love for someone's heart, not their title. It's hard to do that when you have people breathing down your neck about finding a suitable husband. They said if I turned twenty-five and didn't have anybody, then they'd set me up with somebody. My twenty-fifth birthday was in October. When they called."
His heart swells at the words she says, and even more when she meets his eyes afterwards.
He had his suspicions about why she left this place. When she told him it was for school, he wasn't sure he bought it. But this, he understands. After seeing the love her parents have for one another, it makes sense that she'd want a love like they share.
"You don't have to sleep in my bed with me." Emma says. "I'll take the floor. You can have my bed."
Killian blinks. "Uh… no, no, love, it's fine. I can't have you sleeping on the floor when I'm the guest."
Emma gives him a weary look. "Killian… nobody should sleep on the floor."
He smiles softly at her. "As your friend and not your fiancé, I wish to maintain some semblance of integrity with you, love."
"Then we'll share the bed." Emma states. "No big deal. Friends share beds all the time."
He'd beg to differ, but she moves past him with her PJs in her arms before he can get a word in edgewise.
/
Emma comes out of the bathroom smelling like honey and vanilla.
She looks happier, more relaxed, in her oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants. She sets her dirty clothes in her closet someplace and then returns to the bedroom, sighing happily as she sinks down on her bed.
He'd decided to take his shower in the morning, so he's already lying in her bed, flipping through channels on her bedroom's television.
Emma joins him in her bed and grabs her phone from her nightstand, as if they've done this every night for a long time.
She's the first to break the silence, "My mom says, and I quote, 'I like him! He's very handsome. Very funny. Love how he looks at you.' Oh, and there are emojis. Lots of them."
Killian pulls on a smirk and lifts an eyebrow seductively at her. "Oh?"
Emma turns her phone toward him and he gets a look at the series of heart emojis followed by heart eyes emojis.
"Well, it seems I've made a good impression on Mum, then, hm?"
Emma rolls her eyes and smiles to herself as she pulls her phone back toward herself. "It seems that way."
Silence sits between them and Killian stares at the do it yourself program he's put on mute for sake of keeping things quiet for Emma.
"What's on our plate for tomorrow?" he asks.
Emma shifts in bed and sets her phone down. "Well, despite my attempt at pushing it back, we have an engagement party brunch. And my brother just texted me something about maybe taking you out after."
He hums. "Guy bonding. I get it. If we're due to be brothers soon, I'd want the same thing."
She turns to look at him as she pulls her ring off of her finger. "You know we're not actually engaged, right?"
Killian smiles at her. "Of course." He watches her set the ring down on the nightstand. "So, what other activities do I have to look forward to this week?"
His best friend hums a laugh. She turns to face him again. "Well, we're definitely going on a tour of the country."
"Obviously."
Emma shakes her head and shrugs. "I don't know. It should be a really easy week. Family stuff. Friends maybe. Christmas is usually really low key around here, which is… surprising, considering who my mother is."
He hums thoughtfully. "And how do you think things are going so far? Are they up to your standards?"
Emma scoots down in bed and adjusts her pillows as she turns onto her side to face him. "Yeah. You're doing a good job. Just have to get through the rest of the week and then we can pretend this never happened. Back to our diner and movie nights and living room sleepovers."
Killian powers off the television, dousing them in darkness, and slips further down in bed so he can be at her level when he turns toward her.
"Is that what you like best about our relationship?" he asks in a teasing murmur.
Emma shrugs. "I like other things too."
"Oh?" he asks. "Pray tell."
He can practically hear her rolling her eyes. She tugs at the blankets and beneath the covers he feels her toes accidentally brush against his.
"I like… when you come over and make me food."
"Oh, I see," he hums. "Our friendship is built on me giving you things."
Emma gasps. "No! I like it when we talk too. Like when we spent the whole night that one time sitting in my bedroom."
He remembers it vividly, how the dark of the room slowly brightened and brought with it rays that warmed Emma's hair prettily. How even in the quiet moments, he felt comforted in just being with her. It was a good night. One he thinks on fondly more than he'd care to admit to anyone.
"That was good," he agrees in a whisper.
He finds himself staring at Emma, wondering if she knows that he's counted every single freckle on her cheeks and he knows exactly what she'll order if she's not feeling adventurous. Or if she knows that he's memorized her smell, or if she knows that he can recite by memory her phone number because he's dialed it enough from phones that aren't his own.
In this instant, Killian realizes that Liam was right. He's in love with his best friend.
His heart suddenly aches for her, even though she's right here, in the same bed as him.
"Good night, Killian."
He has to clear his throat to speak. "G'night, Emma."
Emma's eyes fall closed and she curls her body slightly so her knees brush against his. It's accidental, again, but his stomach jerks violently anyway.
The awful thought crosses his mind, finally breaking through the denial and the tough work he'd done to suppress it- he's in love with Emma Nolan and he has been for a very long time.
It's not an easy thing to accept. He isn't sure he can. Not yet.