'Sup! Chapter 7 has been finished! In this chapter, we meet Francis, King of Diamonds, and watch him fall in love. Enjoy!
For old readers, in case you're confused about the change in order, I apologise for the mess-up of chapters! One very helpful reviewer has kindly pointed out the really bad structuring, which I have amended and hopefully it's better now. :) I have changed the order such that the story opens with Lovino first, and then goes around the other Kingdoms so as to give you readers a clearer idea as to how the other Kingdoms are run (haven't touched on the Kingdom of Hearts yet though) and also the backstories of the Royals.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. All rights belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.
Francis Bonnefoy was the King of Diamonds, and he was infamous for one thing. Rumors whispered from the lips of servants to advisors to Queen to Jack (who had slammed his fist into the wall and swore that if the King ever so much as looked at his sister the wrong way, the Kingdom could wait two decades for a new ruler for all he cared because no one ever escaped unscathed after hurting Lili) spoke of uncountable nights spent with uncountable strangers filled with satin sheets and clothes being tossed carelessly onto the floor, though when King Francis took the throne, the boots he had slipped on had already been filled with dirt. His old neighbours were particularly chatty about his nightly activities, ranting to any soul with a craving for gossip involving the King about how they used to be unable to fall asleep due to the moaning coming from next door and had been extremely relieved the day Francis left for the castle.
The King himself was aware of his reputation, but made no effort to deny anything. He was a man who loved passion, sex and the beautiful release of pent-up tension through a night of love-making, and those who had been lucky enough to get an invitation to his bedroom – especially now that he was King – lived to tell of Francis' talent in bed. They would recall the feather-like sensation of lips trailing against collarbone and the fire left behind by the smoothest of fingertips, but for the King it was different. Now that Francis was King, everyone he had spent the night with was too compliant and afraid to respond to his touches, scared to touch back. The blond wanted someone who could reignite the flames in him, someone who could give him back the energy he had lost, and he had found that someone in the form of forest green eyes and dark golden blonde tresses.
But that someone had given him more than he had set out for, and soon Francis Bonnefoy, the man who hated commitment and never quite remained in the same relationship for long, found himself thinking of Jeanne in every possible moment. He had first seen her when he was passing by the Knights' training grounds. The Knights seemed to have been taking a break, and while some sat aside disinterestedly gulping down water, others had formed a circle around what appeared to be a commotion. Francis' own curiosity had been piqued and he had instructed his stewards to find out what was going on. One of them, a timid-looking man, had nodded earnestly before scurrying across the muddy field, disappearing into the ring of Knights. Francis had waited, leaning his weight onto his left foot and combing his long hair back. "I think it's Jeanne, Your Majesty," one of his other stewards had told him with a knowing smile, eyes never leaving the group.
"Who is this 'Jeanne'? She sounds like a beautiful woman to me," Francis had replied, a smirk playing on his lips.
However, his steward's almond-shaped eyes had only twinkled, as if he knew something the King did not. "Oh yes, Your Majesty. She is an amazing woman. Ever since the outbreak of the disease, she's been training extremely hard and I heard that she's rapidly climbing the ranks. She's one of our best Knights, but Your Majesty, if you're thinking about–" the steward gave a cough, "I'm afraid you're not going to get any from her."
Francis nodded slowly, the beginnings of an idea forming in his mind. He rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully, and watched the other mousey steward of his hurrying back across the field.
"It's Jeanne, Your Majesty. She's dueling with Marcus…" The steward bit his lip, shifting his weight nervously. "Would you like to watch?"
Francis frowned, looking out towards the group of Knights who were now cheering and hooting. Gosh, he was so going to ruin a pair of perfectly good shoes.
A moment and loads of yelping later, Francis finally arrived at the group and all the Knights, upon seeing their King, hastily knelt on one knee and greeted him. Francis nodded at them, gesturing for the Knights to continue, but his attention was on only one person. It was not extremely rare for women to join the Knights of Diamonds, but Francis was still slightly taken aback by the young lady in front of him, the wooden sword she had been using to train planted firmly in the ground. One of her seemingly dainty hands was still clutched around the wooden hilt even when she got on her knee, a sign that she was impatient to return to battle.
A closer observation on Francis' side revealed that Jeanne's hands were far from ladylike – they were ridden with callouses and scars, the leftover souvenirs from combat. When Jeanne got up, her wavy hair, unruly from movement, fell from her face, revealing fierce green eyes that sparked with defiance and a jaw set in determination. She had a surprisingly fair complexion that had escaped the sweltering heat of the sun and a petite heart-shaped face that once again contrasted her ardent eyes. Sweat lined the top of her lips and trickled down the side of her face unceremoniously, but a rough swipe from her sleeve provided a temporary solution.
Jeanne nodded slightly in acknowledgement when she met her King's eyes, sending him a look that seemed to be telling Francis that she was going to win the fight. Francis smiled back and waved his hand, gesturing for them to continue.
The two Knights got back into their stances, Marcus placing his sword over his right shoulder, his thick fingers raising the hilt above his collar, tip of his sword facing backwards while Jeanne lowered her sword, putting her left foot forward and bending her other knee, hilt held at her hip. Marcus, upon noticing his opponent's stance, smiled smugly and from Francis' point of view as a spectator, Marcus had gotten the upper hand because Jeanne's pose seemed too open, too inviting – whereas Marcus looked like he was ready to strike, body tensed up and chest heaving, Jeanne looked too calm, and the front of her body remained unprotected. Nevertheless, she did not flinch from Marcus' conceited smile and maintained her cool stare.
Maybe she's going to go easy on him, Francis thought, and in his musing failed to notice Marcus throwing him a glance, eager to impress his King. Yet he had a feeling that Jeanne's relaxed shoulders were only the calm before the storm.
"Ready?" Jeanne asked, her voice steady and impassive. Marcus responded by dashing forwards, his sword swinging downwards towards his opponent. Whatever doubt Francis had of Jeanne vanished quickly, when she retaliated with astonishing speed, her own wooden blade whistling through the air and coming into contact with Marcus' with a loud clatter. For a moment, both Knights pushed firmly, but then Marcus' earlier leer quickly made way for a look of panic when he realized that he had miscalculated and the back of Jeanne's blade collided with the side of his own, forcing his arm diagonally downwards.
"Looks like I got your weak point, huh?" Jeanne taunted, as Marcus swiftly recovered from his shock and thrust the tip of his sword towards her, only to be blocked again when she parried. Marcus grunted in reply, maneuvering his sword to prevent her from striking him when she cut sideways. They struggled against each other for a while before pushing apart and circling each other slowly.
"He's been her student for quite a while, Your Majesty," Francis' steward told him when he asked. "He has an ego as big as the castle, I'm afraid. He challenged his master even though he's obviously not ready. Look."
Francis observed the young man, who was currently aiming for Jeanne's shoulder, but kept meeting her weapon instead. He was breathing heavily, and his palms sweated so much that he had to adjust his grip on the hilt. Francis saw that he was too restless, shifting his feet back and forth, distracted by Jeanne's movements. "Focus, Marcus!" Jeanne's eyes widened in recognition at Marcus' legs, as if she had seen her student's weakness resurface. She seemed to be calculating in her mind, deciding between going in for the kill and giving her student a chance. But when Marcus' sword went down towards her again, she feinted to the left in one swift motion and with the flat of her sword, gave him one hard whack to his already unsteady knees, sending him falling.
The crowd gave several whoops, and it was then that Francis realized that they had been there just to watch Jeanne fight. He could tell from the looks of awe and admiration the Knights threw at the woman. Jeanne however, merely gave a small smile, a slight curl of her lips, and pulled Marcus up. "Good job, Marcus, your speed has improved. But you need to remember to concentrate more during battle. Your legs were shifting again just now, Remember what I've taught you, balance is very important when in combat," she lectured, handing him his sword.
Marcus, pride still stinging from his loss, only managed a weak smile and a nod.
"Alright, let's get on with our training, shall we?" Jeanne told the other Knights – the "class" she had been leading – and they earnestly grabbed their own training weapons, pumping their fists in the air and hollering what Francis guessed was a battle cry. Jeanne shot the King one last look, silently thanking him for bothering to watch them, and Francis felt an unexpected flutter in his chest as he dipped his head in return. His heart was pounding hard, and for a second he forgot that he was King.
For that instant, King Francis was just Francis, and he was just like any other man gradually falling in love, standing transfixed, eyes not-so-subtly following Jeanne's back as she walked away, his head becoming lighter and lighter until he was sure that if he kept staring at her like that he was going to float away like an air balloon. The realization struck him dizzily in quite a literal manner, and for the rest of the day (and the following weeks) all he could think about was how graceful Jeanne had been when she dealt her blows, how her sword had swooped beautifully through the air, how she had looked at him after the fight, how she had moved with such confidence, how her hair had still looked perfect even with all the sweat…
Whenever Francis got someone over to spend the night, his heart was no longer in it and all of a sudden no one could draw even a single moan from him. He would push himself off the bed, or push them off him half-heartedly, saying that he wished to be alone. It wasn't completely a lie, but a pair of forest green eyes and smooth lips would occupy his mind, as if accusing him of cheating on them when there was no relationship to betray in the first place, and Francis would feel guilty. In Francis' dictionary, "guilt" had never been one of the words but since the day he met Jeanne, it had been smacked onto the pages, bolded, enlarged and put into italics.
Francis thought that if he continued being that way, he would be driven to madness sooner or later, plus if he kept on being unable to focus, the Kingdom's affairs would be neglected. Though the short-tempered Vash handled most of the major areas of managing the Kingdom, the King was still very much needed to handle the diplomatic issues and to make decisions. It was that way in all of the Kingdoms, though in one or two things were a little bit different.
While the King acted as the main representative of the Kingdom, the Queen was often the person who would meet up with her people to hear their troubles out. She was the one who dealt with affairs directly related to the people's welfare, working closely with the Jack in the health sector. Yet this was different in the Kingdom of Aces, where the people saw and interacted with King Lovino more often than they did with Queen Emma, and for the Kingdom of Clubs, where both King and Queen seldom talked with the people personally. The ongoing crisis about the disease was impossible to ignore, and Francis needed to stop getting distracted. He kept himself busy with work, holding meetings and discussions with his advisors so often that even they were puzzled, and having coffee with Lili during his free time to keep his mind off Jeanne. It was a difficult thing to do, for though Francis was infamous for his one-night stands, when he fell in love he fell hard.
When Francis had taken the throne, he had to be married to Lili, a soft-spoken lady with innocent eyes and a polite smile. Both of them were aware that it was merely a custom, something that each King and Queen had to do, and accepted their lack of romantic feelings for each other. Marriage between the King and Queen, though not necessarily requiring real love, was still a formal and legal tie, and to fall in love with someone else was considered inappropriate, reason being that the King or Queen would spend less time running the Kingdom and that the bond between the King and Queen would weaken. It was an unspoken rule, yet it was not uncommon for Royals to break this rule for love, despite having sworn to give a hundred percent of their attention to the Kingdom and only the Kingdom.
After all, the Kings and Queens had all once been normal people just going about their lives, and wearing a crown or holding a staff was not enough for them to forget their past. In a way it was a downside of the whole ascend to Royalty, an invisible barrier that kept the Royals from having their own personal lives.
Francis was now leaning against this barrier, his hands pressed forlornly to the wall, still unable to do anything about it. He might be willing to push against the blockade, but Jeanne was different, he soon realized. Francis loved Jeanne, but Jeanne loved the Kingdom. And nothing could change that.
Thank you so much for reading!