Ulysses

[crownprincessuly]

grahamafiav‌:

At least it’s someone else for a change. Graham thought ruefully to himself. It was usually him making an ill-timed joke about his impending death that ruined the mood for friends or family. They hated it, which only made him more likely to continue doing it. Sooner or later they would be forced to face the truth, he was just trying to help them along. And it made him feel a little better to acknowledge it sometimes, make it less of this looming, unspoken thing. “It’s alright. We’re humans, we get sad, bad things happen. No point in pretending that they don’t.” He shrugged, feeling the conversation was over. 

Graham grinned at the way she responded to that. Of course, sometimes he forgot when he made the transition back into royalty, that she had probably not been allowed to eat like this for most of her life. There was never any telling if that meant someone would be pleased or horrified at the idea of letting manners go. “The important part of food is that you enjoy it.” He pointed out, with a small chuckle. He wouldn’t point out just yet that they had planned to share, and he probably should have cut it in half first with that in mind. Instead, he focused on the other meal in front of him, long skewers of sliced pork. That was more acceptable to eat with a fork and knife, so he cut off a bite sized piece and tried it. It was better than he expected. 

His gaze flickered up, then back down. There was really no easy way to answer that when the truth was that they did not like it at all, they only let him because he was dying and the couldn’t tell him no. “My parents are everything you expect when you hear the words King and Queen. But they were also very close with us, very involved. I have an older sister and brother, and we’re all close. None of them really like my traveling, but I guess being the youngest has some perks. Nobody really wants to tell you no.” 

Uly continued to eat in silence as she heard more words in that one brief conversation about his parents than through all her research combined. Sometimes you could learn more about a person by observing how others saw them rather than what they sculpted their own image to be. In this case, Uly found herself seeing many parallels in their upbringing. Uly herself had been the youngest and was therefore given reign to do mostly as she wished... in her case, run off and join the army. That was, however, less because she was spoiled and more because she was not needed. She was never meant to be a queen.

“It’s nice to hear they played such a big part in your upbringing. I’ve heard far too many poor stories from younger siblings all but abandoned by their parents in situations similar to yours.” She mused, taking another bite of her food to give herself a chance to think before gingerly setting the food down as if it were the body of God. Uly had always endured bland food. It’d been a major part of her life. Now that she was getting vibrant food every single day well... they’d said it got boring quickly, Uly begged to differ. Give her Greek food over rations any day.

Uly studied him a moment longer before absently leaning forward onto her palms once more, gaze inquisitive. “I like you, Graham.” She says, rather out of blue. Yet another symptom of there being absolutely zero filter between her mouth and her mind... something she was told she should work on. She paused as if considering her next words before sighing, sitting back in her chair once more. “A lot.” She stared at him a few moments longer, bordering on uncomfortable before she shrugged, resting her hands in her lap. “But I don’t know if I can pretend to love someone for the sake of an arranged marriage. I don’t do.. political. Being a Queen can take away my time, my freedom and my ability to be myself... but it won’t take away my heart. As melodramatic as that is.”

She held his gaze, then. Waiting for the disappointment, the resentment. The outburst. She’d said this out of nowhere and she knew it, but... it had come starkly to her attention. She would not drag him through her mess, force him to be disgraced when eventually someone found out about her sickness. He was a good man... Hell, a great man. She would have loved getting to know him. The cost was too great, however. She would not be that selfish.

[crownprincessuly]

grahamafiav‌:

The hollow laugh didn’t come close to fooling Graham. It wasn’t something he expected to hear from her, but now he didn’t think he would be able to forget the sound of it. Somewhere, this conversation had taken a turn, and he was missing the pieces needed to find out where things went wrong. She was upset, clearly. She looked like she was expecting someone to start yelling at her at any moment, and Graham didn’t know where it was coming from, if it was something he had said or done. He felt a little helpless, in that moment. 

“You don’t have to tell me about it.” He said, as a way of pointing out that he didn’t believe her for a second. It wasn’t really his place to go on picking or digging at something he had nothing to do with, but he also didn’t like to be lied to. Hypocritical, he knew. Maybe it was best to except early that there were going to be lies in their relationship and learn to let it go. This was going to be much more difficult than he had expected it to be. 

Graham turned still. He wasn’t aware that he had been moving much, until it was contrasted with the absolute stillness that came over him. He swallowed. His chest was growing tight, everything inside of him screaming that he could not go through with this. He bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep the outside of his face clear from emotion. This is not right. She only just lost someone, and here he came, acting as though he was a sure thing in her life. The anger that he had just about gotten rid of came flaming back, and he wanted to call his parents and yell at them. He had never yelled at any member of his family, before. He didn’t think he had ever yelled at anyone, before. But he had never been this angry before, either. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, once he trusted his voice to be even. “I know that probably doesn’t mean much, at this point.” She had probably heard it a thousand times, until the words lost all meaning. Problem was, that knowledge didn’t give him anything better to say. “But I’m not just saying it because I have to, if that makes it any better.” He was sorry for much more than she could ever imagine. He debated, for a moment, telling her. Maybe with the two of them against this, they could talk their way out of this arrangement and she would find a more deserving pair. He dismissed the thought just as quickly. There were too many ways it could backfire, and the selfish part of him didn’t want to take the chance of his truth being spread. 

Graham shifted his cup out of the way as the food arrived, sucecssfully breaking through the solemnness of their conversation. Plates laid down, darkness lifted, lighter tones returned to voices. He shifted forward again. “Well the gyro you just….well, you have to pick it up with your hands and bit off of it. I guess you could use a fork and a knife but that’s just…” he didn’t want to say he would judge her for doing that, but it felt so wrong. “Not authentic.” 

I’m sorry.

Words she’d heard more times than she could count and spoken just as many times, more often to herself than others. Sorry for running away, sorry for killing, sorry for not being someone I can be proud of. She was a bundle of mistakes constantly wearing away at her own esteem and ability and one day... she’d break. She knew that. The best she could hope to do was provide her country a stable enough base until... Until...

What? I have kids? There are no more heirs.

Uly shook her head, dismissing the thought before it could take hold of her thinking and instead waving a hand dismissively at his apology. “You owe me no apology. I’m sorry that I sobered the mood. Ever the killjoy.” She said with a smile.

Turning her attention back to the food, Uly rubbed her head like some comical villain sizing up their next victim, a smile broadening her lips. Her eyes lifted to him out of complete and utter surprise as he mentioned not eating with a knife and fork. Could you be any more dreamy? She couldn’t help but laugh, “Oh I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” She mused, reaching out to take the aforementioned Gyro, beginning to bite into it with gusto. Albeit she did allow herself some manners, not simply pigging out on the food... much.

Through sheer force of will, she managed to finish one delicious mouthful before speaking, her eyes on him. “What are your parents like? They must not approve of your traveling.”

[crownprincessuly]

grahamafiav‌:

She didn’t look annoyed, at least. Not yet. It was Rochelle’s voice in his head, telling him to keep his nerdy facts to himself, if he wanted to impress a girl. But then, he didn’t really want to impress her. He had to keep reminding himself of that, each time she managed a smile and he caught himself wondering what he could do to make it happen again. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing, unless she was laughing at him inside her head. 

Funny, Graham had never been self-conscious before. He knew how he came across, and for most of his life, it had been too close to perfect for his own comfort. He had nearly everything going for him, after all. Life had been good to him, except when it hadn’t. But she didn’t know about those things. She would know about the asthma, but even that wasn’t so bad anymore. He could leave home without his inhaler, though everyone told him not to. Sometimes it did get him in trouble, but most times it didn’t. 

He was too far in his own head, again. He had to snap his attention back to her, and she was annoyed. Not really annoyed, but she had clearly picked up on the fact that he hadn’t put much heart into talking about his home. “If I’m being honest, home doesn’t really hold any of my interesting stories. That was always the steady place, where I go when I need a break.” He shrugged. Maybe he was supposed to wax poetry on the majestic beauty of his home country, but that just wasn’t how he felt about it. Home meant steady. 

He knew a story was coming before she ever started speaking. It was a look that people got when they tugged at the strings of a memory, anticipation settling. No matter the circumstance, Graham was a person who liked to hear stories, so he found himself leaning forward, forearms settling against the edge of the table and fingers finding his own mug to wrap around. He listened, allowing the pieces of what she told him to fall into place with what he already knew about her. A smile tugged at his mouth, turning into a full laugh as the story came to a close. If he was being honest, it was mostly her attempt at a Scottish accent that had him chuckling. He didn’t think it was really that bad of an accent, it was just so different from her own accent that it caught him by surprise. 

He was ready to reply, comment on her story, ask about her friends, but something in her face stopped him. The smile had faded to something else. She looked unsure, which he didn’t think he had seen yet. “Something wrong?” He couldn’t help but ask. This was the problem with him; he was not a creature built to be cold with people. He could try and try, but at the end of the day, he always found himself worrying over people, talking to people, falling in love in some context with everyone around him. He didn’t have an understanding of how to be in between, to know someone and not want to know everything about them. He leaned back. He reminded himself of what was at stake here. 

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that. Your friends sound like fun.” He meant it. He wasn’t much of a party person himself, but it didn’t mean that he could appreciate people who were. Ever a chameleon, he could find a way to fit into a group of them, as he had before. College had taught him a variety of different masks and now he had a closet full of them, always available to pull out at a moment’s notice. 

“Go on then. Tell him. Tell him how you let that ‘friend’ die. Tell him you’re a murderer.”

Uly found herself expecting the voice long before she heard it. He was right back where he’d been a few minutes earlier, dressed in the same ragged fatigues as he always was. You. Are. Not. Real. Eyes focused on the table to force herself looking at something that wasn’t there, she found her fingers unconsciously tightening around the ceramic cup, her knuckles going white.

Is something wrong?

Uly’s heartbeat was a thundering army hammering away at her chest from the inside. A cold flush swept across her skin as she put every ounce of willpower she had into not showing her internal feelings to the prince she was sitting across from lest he think himself to blame. Her father had recommended a therapist, hell, he’d all but demanded she see one. Sitting in that alcove feeling as if she were constricted on all sides, Uly vaguely regretted turning him away.

‘Your friends sound like fun.’ 

Uly couldn’t help but laugh, however her heart wasn’t in the sound. She had been tempted to correct him on the present tense. Her friends had been fun. Instead, she simply shook her head demurely, forcing a sad smile onto her lips, if not for the reasons the prince might predict. “I’m alright.” She lied, one she was familiar with. She managed to bring her eyes back up to meet the prince’s own. In that caramel gaze... she found it easier to relax. Something she’d never felt before. She didn’t need to look to know that Jameson was gone, the pair alone in the alcove.

“Jameson died, uh...” She rubbed a finger across her lips in an unconscious nervous gesture as she tried not to think too thoroughly on the topic at hand while still retrieving the information necessary. “About six months ago. Just before I got shipped off to Athens in my brother’s place.” That rueful smile was back as Uly sipped her coffee, leaning back in the chair as if to distance herself more. Not because she wanted distance... no, in reality, she felt an insane urge to just tell him everything. But no. That rumor could not be allowed to spread.

Lying to my future husband before we’re even married. Classic.

Thankfully, Uly was saved from further words by the arrival of their food. Heaping platters of steaming Greecian food laid out as a banquet between the pair.

“Could you, uh.. Show me how to eat some of this? I don’t want to make any more of a fool of myself.” She managed, dropping her gaze to the table as she composed herself. Get yourself together, Uly.

[crownprincessuly]

kitporras‌:

He honestly thought he was better at assessing people than this, but apparently not. At least it explained him getting turned down so quickly. But he was fine with friends. He needed a few more of them if he was going to be stuck here much longer. “Who said anything about dating, Princess?” He finally teased, a smirk settling on his face.

Uly turned her head at that reaction, studying him a moment before emitting a soft laugh. “You know, Ella said you were the person to call for a good time... I assumed she was joking.” Uly shook her head ruefully at the thought, passing off her empty glass before folding her arms over her chest. “Dangerous reputation to have, you know.”

[crownprincessuly]

kitporras‌:Too bad, she was pretty, and had a good sense of humor. Both things Kit tended to look for in a date. But he wasn’t about to push, and so he just shrugged. “Well, let me know if that changes.” He suggested easily, handing off his empty glass to the servant. Which, servants, at a bonfire? Ridiculous. This whole thing was.

“Thanks, but I think I can find someone on my own. I’m not quite that desperate.” He said in a teasing tone. He wasn’t trying to be rude, he just preferred to meet people for himself. Usually he went for easy, just because he didn’t have time for a relationship, but sometimes it was fun to dream.

“I don’t doubt it.” Uly mused with a faint smile, peering briefly over at the bodyguard before returning her attention to the fire. Might as well see his reaction, just for fun. “Besides, not sure it would have worked out between us. Apparently, Princesses need to date other royalty.” 

As much as she wanted to turn her head and see his expression, she kept her eyes on the fire and finished the last of her glass.

[crownprincessuly]

princessadaline‌:

“Better than the movie.” She replied calmly, inserting a piece of paper that was serving as a bookmark and looking up at the woman in front of her. She recognised her vaguely, from a new article about Switzerland. 

Of course. 

She was the recent Swiss heir.

Adaline’s eyes moved over her with more focus than before, taking in the minute details in the way she stood, and the way she relaxed. After a moment she realised that she’d been silent and decided to continue speaking, tilting her face towards the sun, feeling it warm on her face. “I didn’t think that anyone did any training before the sunrise. Though I wasn’t expecting to be alone. A lot of us are night owls.”

“Uly smiled softly at the statement, staring out at the ocean a moment longer before turning to regard the princess. “They always are, I find.” Uly had just started The Fault in Our Stars on the recommendation of a friend and was beginning to find it was already a major improvement on the movie. She was not ashamed to admit a few tears had been shed already.

“Force of habit, I guess. The day I’m in bed later than nine, you’ll find me dead.” She said with a soft laugh, returning her gaze out to the ocean. “Unfortunate, but productive. Gotta stay positive about these things.”

“What brings you out so early, then?”

[crownprincessuly]

grahamafiav‌:

If there was one thing Graham was grateful for, it was that he was used to being watched. Even around his family, there were always eyes on him, like they were ready for him to keel over at any second. The picture had to be kept up, and now he could hold it for indefinite amounts of time. He found himself in the small morning hours when he couldn’t sleep and nobody was around to see him. He allowed her to order, smiling slightly when he heard her manage to get through the words. She was not as lacking as she had passed herself off to be, as he expected. He wanted to ask what else she was hiding. 

Graham’s eyes followed her arms, a thought slipping into his head and finding it’s way to his mouth before he could have the good sense to stop it. “Did you know the only reason we’re taught to keep our elbows off the table as children is because tables were one just a wooden plank on a tree stump? It was common sense, and they kept passing that rule down, even with the sensible part of it gone.” Some of his friends and most of his family had gotten to the point that they sighed as soon as the words did you know passed his lips. He wasn’t trying to act as though he knew everything, he just found knowing things interesting and he occasionally forgot that other people did not feel the same way. 

He could feel her judgement of his response. Someone like her had to expect competition. But he had grown up the baby of his family, the golden child. He hadn’t needed to compete for anything. He had been the best in school, but it wasn’t because he had tried all that hard. If he did, it was because he wanted to learn, because he wanted to better himself. The idea of competition was foreign to him. 

Graham swallowed again. He did have lots of stories, but when it came to his home… Did she want to hear about the fire that had briefly killed him, or the time he had collapsed up in the Hex River mountains? The endless hospital visits, or the subtle, well-meant guilt trips from his family when he went home? South Africa was not what held his good stories. “It’s a beautiful country,” he told her, because that was what he had trained himself to say. “I grew up near the Hex River Mountains. I got into plenty of trouble with my parents for running off as a child, and not much has changed since.” 

Uly blinked in surprise at his mention of putting her elbows on the table. Of course, he noticed, he’s a royal. Some tiny part of her had hoped he was oblivious to the rules she’d spent the last month getting drilled into her skull with all the blunt force implied by such a manual tool. Then again, the tidbit of information he provided made her perk an eyebrow inquisitively. She adored interesting facts, albeit knew few. They were like snacks of information, tiny tidbits with enough bite to interest the listener without boring them through quantity.

His tidbit did, however, make her think. Mind filling with modern-day royals in their puffy dresses and suits sitting in some dusty outback at a log-raised plank table. Those images made her smile, restraining a laugh lest he think she was insane for bursting into laughter at such a comparatively unfunny remark.

At his story she inwardly sighed, narrowing her eyes as if jokingly annoyed at him, though making her sarcasm clear. He was to be her husband. Political or not, she would have to break down that steely exterior eventually. She wanted to experience who he really was, not this political face he was presenting because he was nervous.

Ah.

He was nervous. Having some girl you barely knew stare at you for a full ten minutes tended to have that effect on people. Perhaps if I go first, make him realize I’m just another human being. She scrounged her brain for a long few moments, dimly aware of coffee being brought into their alcove and offered. She took one, clasping the small ceramic cup in both hands, allowing the warmth to seep into her palms as she got the story straight in her head. The memory bringing a wistful smile to her lips.

“A few years ago I was just getting back from Iran, third time back. The place couldn’t keep me away.” That last statement said with a sarcastic lilt. He knew her past and could likely infer the real reason she’d been going to such a place. “Some close friends - about five of us - are celebrating. Old tradition. Anyway, we’d planned to introduce an extended friend of ours, a beautiful girl called Katie.” Uly held out a hand as if to forestall interjection, despite that she knew the prince would never do something so rude as interrupt. “You’ll have to take my word for it, but she was stunning. Way out of his league. Anyway.”

Uly sipped her coffee briefly, resisting the urge to stick out both pinkies jokingly. “Long story short, he wasn’t aware she was coming. She ends up running late because of a work commitment, arrived at the house just as the fun was getting started. Imagine this: I open the door, there she is: beautiful dress, immaculate makeup, the full works. She asks me which one of my friends she was here to meet and, Perfectly timed as always, Jameson - the guy we were gonna set her up with - yells. He was talking to Alex, though I’ll be damned if we couldn’t hear him word for word all the way from the front door. ” She puffs up her chest, imitating his masculine tone satirically. “ ‘Oie, boy-o. Get me another bottle o’ Jagermeister, eh? The last three had fookin’ water in ‘em. Already empty, they are!’” Uly smiles ruefully at the memory, shaking her head. “Should’ve seen the look on her face, like a deer caught in headlights.”

Uly waved a hand dismissively. “Two years later they were still going strong, he was about to propose. Cute couple.” She kept her face as was, however the latter end of the memory sobered her prior good mood. She kept her eyes down in her coffee, waiting for his reply. She hoped he would think her deep in thought... in truth, she was worried that if she looked up she would see a look of disgust on those beautiful features. She had gone out on a limb, appealing to his humanity.

All or nothing.

[crownprincessuly]

grahamafiav‌:

He tried to smile, but it was the bittersweet smile of recognizing wanderlust in someone else. He wanted to say, it hurts sometimes, doesn’t it? But he didn’t. It did ache, in ways that nobody could understand unless they felt it too. He felt like he was searching for a home he hadn’t found yet, like when he found it, he would finally be able to put his bags down and rest. But that was nothing but poetry, and this was real life, and he was already facing the suspicion that it was going to be difficult not to like her. She looked like stories, and the academic in him wanted to hear them. He lived life to hear people’s stories, and in another life, maybe this would have been the beginning of something good. In this life, it just felt like the first page of a tragedy. 

She was smiling at him now, and he was too involved in his own head to keep himself from analyzing what might have spurred it. There were a thousand reasons a person might smile, a thousand aspects of a smile which could give clues to the reason. This one looked a little pleased, a little more at ease as time passed. Graham absently realized he was chewing on his lower lip out of habit and forced himself to stop. 

He didn’t ask if she wanted everything on it. He didn’t think she would be the kind of person to need alterations to food. “Messy gyro it is.” He set his menu down, slipping the glasses off once more and carefully folding them before placing them back in his front pocket. “I um…I could do that.” So much for being eloquent. She had caught him by surprise. This was not going how he planned it. He had assumed that upon his announcement, she would either leave the restaurant, or be another cold royal more than happy to avoid personal ties. He had never expected to find someone that seemed they would be easy to have a conversation with. 

“I’ve never been a very competitive person, actually. But if that’s the point, we probably ought to order more than just two meals.” There were many things Graham was good with. Making friends, looking for things, getting along with people much older than him. This, however, was not one of those things, and he was feeling so decidedly out of his element that everything out of his mouth sounded like pre-recorded royal nonsense, even to him. He sighed. Wasn’t it for the best, anyway? One of these days he was going to have to get over his obsessive need to have people like him. 

Ulysses studied him a few moments longer - a habit she was going to need to lose if she ever wanted to present even the vaguest semblance of normality - before waving down a waitstaff hovering near the entrance to their alcove. She passed along their order, her accent terrible, before offering polite thanks and handing over their menus. With that out of the way, she turned her attention back to the prince. 

‘A lady never puts her elbows on the table. Her back is straight, her chin is up, her posture perfect.’ The wise words of her instructor echoed in Uly’s head as if the concept of a woman being anything but was not even worth considering. Uly considered those words, turned them over for further consideration... and then promptly placed her elbows on the table, with her chin resting on her palms so that she might have a more relaxed study of the prince. She watched as he removed those glasses - something she found almost adorably nerdy - before musing about his own competitive nature.

That’s going to be a problem, she thought with a mischevious grin. Uly was many things. Sarcastic, snappy, temperamental... but the trait she had heard herself referred to by most often was competitive. Hell, half the reason she’d tried for the special forces was that they were the best. It could be misconstrued that Uly enjoyed mastery over others... rather, quite the contrary was true. Coming from a family that was ‘better’ than others in her country by definition, Uly compensated by hunting for achievement in every area except heritage. Uly would forge her own path to success, or die trying.

“I would love to hear a story about your time in South Africa.” 

Uly heard the words as if they’d come from someone else’s lips, escaping before she had a chance to stop them. But the more she thought about them, the more she found herself agreeing with them. Sure, the prince had been to an abundance of countries but... she’d never heard many stories from the beautiful expanses of South Africa. Romanticized settings like Greece and Italy were often over-described, leaving those less well-known countries underrepresented in conventional storytelling. Uly wanted to hear a story from his past.

[crownprincessuly]

grahamafiav‌:

Graham nodded, feeling a little guilty. The whole situation might have been out of his hands, but he couldn’t help but feel there ought to be a better way for him to handle it. “That’s reasonable…” He replied carefully. “No, I can’t say that I’m fan of the situation. It’s nothing against you, of course. I guess I’ve just always found it hard to stay in one place. I’m sure you’ve been provided enough information to gather that,” he went on with a flippant wave of his hand. No point in pretending that they didn’t read up on each other. What she wouldn’t find were the months out of contact with anyone, the moments when his family hadn’t known if he was dead or alive because he had found it easier to run away. They didn’t talk about those times, as if his entire family conveniently forgot about any faults Graham carried with him. 

His eyes flicked up. She was still assessing him, and he wished he could hear what verdict she came to when she seemed to settle on a decision of what to think. Or perhaps he was just being paranoid. He rarely was, but he always knew it was a possibility when it came to these situations. It was better to be paranoid than oblivious, after all. He looked back at the window. The more he let his mind wander, the more like it was to spiral and wind up finding the most negative option possible. 

“Really?” Again, he looked at her. That didn’t seem likely, given what he did know of her. Not overly scholastic, of course, but she had her fair share of travels and that usually meant picking up languages. He had known girls in the past who played dumb to come across more attractive, but she didn’t seem the type to do something like that. Especially with him. Well, it could always be a placating sort of thing, give him something since this was one of his only strengths. Attention back to the menu, he scanned over the options. 

There was something of a shiver down his spine when he heard her use his name so casually. It sounded like another test, possibly more to do with her than him. He swallowed before speaking. “The courgette balls or  dolmadakia would both make a good appetizer, but they’re a little difficult to describe. A Gyro is usually a safe bet for an actual meal, but it does get messy to eat, I’m not sure how you feel about that. It’s kind of like a taco, but with pita bread and thick slices of lamb. Or…” he flipped the menu to the other side, “souvlaki is another safe one. Just meat on a skewer, more or less.” Thankfully, it was not the first time he had been in Greece, and the food had always been one of the shining attractions of the country (nevermind that he would probably a prefer a street vendor). 

“You’re not the only one.” Uly mused in response to his statement about moving around. The Army had taken her through more countries than she could count, the special forces even more so. The experiences had not usually involved extensive sight-seeing expeditions, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t gotten to see some of the prettier sights on offer. In truth, Uly had never been on a purely holiday orientated adventure. She had always wanted to pick a direction and just... drive. The thought of mindlessly exploring unknown land without goal or agenda was distinctly attractive to her.

Not that I’ll ever be able to do that, now. I have responsibilities.

Staring at the prince, she saw a shadow of what she wished she could be. Those stoic features aged by experiences throughout the entire world gave him a distinctly wisened appearance beyond his mere twenty-five years. Perhaps she could see herself, one day, sitting with him. Hearing about his life. Different languages and cultures always interested her, and here was a man far more learned than most, destined to be chained to her for the rest of his life. Poor guy. She smirked at the thought.

His ‘Really?’ made her smile also, glad that he didn’t see her as dumbly as she saw herself. That or perhaps she wasn’t as good a liar as she thought she was, regardless the genuine smile remained in place and she found herself relaxing a fraction. If nothing else, perhaps I will at least gain a friend..

“Messy Gyro sounds delicious.” Uly said honestly, a welcome change from the tiny snacks and gourmet food that barely filled her stomach. Something hefty and meaty sounded perfect. “Perhaps you can choose something else and we’ll... share?” She inquired, fixing him with those brown eyes. He still looked ill at ease. Uly didn’t exactly have a stellar reputation for being charming... how was she supposed to get this charming prince to relax?

“If you manage to eat more of it than me, I might just promise you a second date.” She joked softly, that teasing smile quirking the corner of her lips skyward. On the inside though, she wound tight as a steel coil. Her humour was always a double edged sword with royalty... the Prince would either be offended by her bluntness and lack of ladylike behaviour, or he would find it funny.

She desperately hoped for the latter.

[grahamafiav]

‘No, not that I know of.’

Such a simple statement but one that put Uly far more at ease than the man she sat across from would ever know. At least he has a sense of humor. Uly found herself smiling again, if not for the fact that his retort had been hilarious, then at least that he might not be completely hopeless after all. ‘Make the best of what you’re given’ had been one of her father’s favorite little snippets of wisdom and, in this situation, Uly was certainly trying. Not that the young prince was making it particularly difficult.

He’s almost too perfect. Uly thought blithely, studying him as his lips parted for that final explanation. Just as Uly found herself relaxing in the Prince’s company, those robotic, calculated words struck right to her very core and ran ice along her spine. Before that statement, she had almost managed to trick herself into believing this just another coffee date with a cute boy. Nearly tricked herself into thinking him just another cute bachelor vying for her debatably limited attention. In two sentences he had quelled that notion with brutal efficiency, heralding loud and clear that he was and always would be a prince. ‘… these things are easier without feelings involved.’

“What had you been expecting, Ules? Rainbows and a white wedding?”

Jameson’s voice came unwelcome and cut like a knife. Through sheer force of will, she kept her attention on the prince and a smile on her lips, not turning her head towards the source of the imaginary voice. To think she’d been spared his opinions for nearly a full day, only for this meeting to bring him crashing back into her life. Looking at the prince in that moment, she felt a shred of pity for him. He had been forced into this as much as she had, only he was getting the far worse end of the deal.

“If that is what you wish, Graham.” She said simply, acquiescent. Knotting her white-knuckled fingers together underneath the table, she held his gaze as she forced herself to relax muscle by muscle. “It would probably make this easier.”

But when were the best things ever easy?

“Coward.” Came the voice of the dead man, audible only to her.

Graham had the distinct feeling that he was being appraised. This, he was used to. It was a routine of their kind, so he settled his shoulders into a short line and let the hospitable expression he’d learned from his mother fall on the face he’d gotten from his father. The perfect mix of both, he’d been told on more than one occasion. He took it as a good thing, most of the time. Only at certain moments did it feel to be a bit too much pressure. 

Slowly, the princess before him shifted. It was a physical thing, though it wasn’t so much in her expression. She went from relaxed, friendly, to a straightening spine and tensed muscles. Her face, for the most part, remained the same. The bomb in his chest ticked a little faster, sending up another wish that he could disappear from this moment. All of this would be so much easier if- no, there was no point in torturing himself with if’s. They would only lead him down a dark road that he had been down before and he knew offered no relief. It was best to accept the moment he was in and try to make the best of it. But how was he supposed to make the best of this? 

Her eyes were trained on him in a fixed sort of way that made him want to crawl under the table. He wanted to know if she was angry, annoyed, embarrassed, whatever she was feeling, before he decided how to proceed. There was no polite way to ask her that though, so he didn’t. He nodded, slightly. “And your thoughts, on the matter?” Cold being the best option or not, no part of Graham could go without at least asking her how she felt. She was a human, and that alone earned her that much respect. He knew, in his heart, that easier did not always mean better, but his heart had always been weaker than his mind. That was his whole problem. 

He turned his attention down to the menu. The script was small, so he took a pair of wire-framed glasses from his front pocket and slipped them on. Too many late nights reading old texts in dim lights had worn down his eyes early, and he was already forced to keep a pair of reading glasses on him. His gaze flickered back up. “Do you know Greek? If not, I can make a few recommendations.” 

[crownprincessuly]

“I suppose I had higher hopes than most would, given circumstance. I detest being forced into something like this... much like you, I imagine.” Uly replied softly, managing to keep her attention on the dashing prince before her. As she watched, he shifted himself into what she predicted was his presentation posture. She’d seen the same of nearly every royal she encountered, each striking a pose as if they were about to be immortalised in stone by Da Vinci himself. Though it was a complete facàdè, Uly often found she could glean much about the person by inferring the opposite of what they showed.

Comfortable. Such a presentation implied he was anything but, to the astute observer. Uly was not surprised... her unorthodox behaviour and background often unsettled the blue-bloods she came in contact with. Though she had come to expect it, the notion that she was making her future husband uncomfortable with a mere look made her feel vaguely nauseous. Thankfully, he saved her from such contemplations of the future by inquiring about the menu.

Ah. She knew far more languages than the average person and yet, she knew nearly no Greek. She’d been learning, of course. Enough to exchange pleasantries. Decoding the hieroglyphics assembled on the menu proved beyond her capability. Perhaps admitting that weakness would put the prince more at ease?

“I don’t speak Greek, or many languages for that matter.” Not strictly a lie but not the truth either... he was intimidated by her, something she hated. Best to lower his opinion further lest she send him running for hills, not that she’d blame him. The thought stirred a strange feeling in her chest however. As she stared at him, she couldn’t help but hope he didn’t run away. He was charming, beautiful and kind. If only she, a brute from the battlefield, we’re worthy of him.

Discreetly glancing toward the entryway of their alcove, she couldn’t help but smile at the realisation Jameson was gone. As she returned her attention to Graham, that smile was still in place. Political or not, she could use a new friend.

“I am open to any recommendations you might have, Graham.” She murmured, tasting his name as she spoke it. She suspected it would become a comfortable sound eventually, but for now it was new and unfamiliar, like its owner. Something she hoped to change.

[crownprincessuly]

grahamafiav‌:

.He caught the twitch of her mouth, but he couldn’t decide what it was from. There was any number of things that a person could look at him and be amused by, and usually he was able to talk himself past any self-consciousness. This was a different situation. He did not get nervous, but here he was, nervous. He didn’t know why. It would be for the best if she didn’t think highly of him; at least then she wouldn’t care when he died. The ticking bomb in his chest sped up a little with the thought. 

She did not shake his hand like a princess. There was something very real about that. She reminded him more of the girls he had known in his travels than he had known in college or in these circles he spent time in for his families sake. It made him feel less like he was meeting a princess, and more like he was running into someone new. But this was not that. He couldn’t keep running away from his problems forever, even if he had been making a valiant effort up till this point. At least his initial take on her told him that she was strong. She had probably seen more death than he could imagine, all things in consideration. Maybe it was stupid of him to try to protect her from his future. 

She caught him by surprise with her statement, as he smiled and ran a thumb across his bottom lip in unconscious expression. “No, not that I know of.” He thought he ought to come with something wittier for a response, but nothing came to mind. It was for the best. This was the same routine he would go on cycling through with himself, the same one he had been cycling through, because what right did he have to be afraid? He had already lived so much more, so much better than so many people around him. It was time to put his attention onto the people around him, instead. 

He sat in the opposite chair. Looking across the table he couldn’t help but notice she seemed stiff, uncomfortable. He wondered if it was the atmosphere, or if it was him. He couldn’t think of another time when he had managed to make someone uncomfortable; his specialty had always been putting people at ease. Leaning back slightly in the chair, he ignored the buzz of his phone in his pocket. His parents could wait. 

“I feel it would be for the best to keep things political. Nothing personal, I just think these things are easier without feelings involved.” His chest tightened with every word. The idea of a marriage being impersonal was absurd, especially coming from someone who had grown up under two loving parents. But it did happen. He saw plenty of it outside of his own family, and in the long run, it would be an easier arrangement for the both of them. The idea set wrong inside of him, an ever personable creature. All he had to do to fix that was picture his grave, though. 

‘No, not that I know of.’

Such a simple statement but one that put Uly far more at ease than the man she sat across from would ever know. At least he has a sense of humor. Uly found herself smiling again, if not for the fact that his retort had been hilarious, then at least that he might not be completely hopeless after all. ‘Make the best of what you’re given’ had been one of her father’s favorite little snippets of wisdom and, in this situation, Uly was certainly trying. Not that the young prince was making it particularly difficult.

He’s almost too perfect. Uly thought blithely, studying him as his lips parted for that final explanation. Just as Uly found herself relaxing in the Prince’s company, those robotic, calculated words struck right to her very core and ran ice along her spine. Before that statement, she had almost managed to trick herself into believing this just another coffee date with a cute boy. Nearly tricked herself into thinking him just another cute bachelor vying for her debatably limited attention. In two sentences he had quelled that notion with brutal efficiency, heralding loud and clear that he was and always would be a prince. ‘... these things are easier without feelings involved.’

“What had you been expecting, Ules? Rainbows and a white wedding?”

Jameson’s voice came unwelcome and cut like a knife. Through sheer force of will, she kept her attention on the prince and a smile on her lips, not turning her head towards the source of the imaginary voice. To think she’d been spared his opinions for nearly a full day, only for this meeting to bring him crashing back into her life. Looking at the prince in that moment, she felt a shred of pity for him. He had been forced into this as much as she had, only he was getting the far worse end of the deal.

“If that is what you wish, Graham.” She said simply, acquiescent. Knotting her white-knuckled fingers together underneath the table, she held his gaze as she forced herself to relax muscle by muscle. “It would probably make this easier.”

But when were the best things ever easy?

“Coward.” Came the voice of the dead man, audible only to her.

[crownprincessuly]

kitporras‌:

“Better them than me.” Kit agreed, raising his own glass. It was an actual glass too, which was ridiculous, in his opinion. They were on the beach, plastic was acceptable, after all. He had to wonder if half the people here had ever even drank from a plastic cup.

He smiled, tucking the slip into a pocket. “I was getting around to it, trust me.” He said, glancing away before he looked back at her. “Is that a let’s be friends number, or is it a call me for some fun number?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. He was old enough to be done with dancing around what the other one wanted, it was simpler to just ask in the long run.

Uly smirked at his forwardness, a slight widening of her lips as her hands delved into the warm comfort of her pants. She faced him for a moment, studying him before emitting a soft laugh and shaking her head. “Had you asked me that same question a month ago, I’d have answered very differently.” She mused somberly, turning back towards the campfire. The warmth on her face was comforting, staring into the flames as her night vision was obliterated in those glowing embers.

“The former, I suspect.” Still smiling she snatched another drink from a passing servant, downing it in one swift tip. The burn as it passed down her throat was like a comforting old friend, welcoming her back. It was just her luck that the cute guys hit on her now, the moment she couldn’t do anything about it. Life hates me, I swear. That or it’s just one hell of a cock-block.

Uly shook her head ruefully at the thought, grinning to herself. “Though I’m sure I could find some particularly easy friends of mine.”

[crownprincessuly]

grahamafiav‌:

Graham was angry. He never did like the feeling of being angry, and he was usually able to avoid it. He had gotten very good at talking himself around a temper, as the Afia’s were more prone to do. Only there was no talking himself around this particular situation, and for perhaps the first time, he was angry with his parents. They had always been a close-knit family, despite being royalty. They cared about each other, first. Until now. 

This wasn’t right. It was not so much the fact that he was being pushed into an arranged marriage; that was to be expected when it came to royalty. It was that he was being pushed into an arranged marriage, and he didn’t think that anyone deserved that. His family could go on sticking their heads in the sand and pretending that he wasn’t dying; but he knew the truth. There was no new heart coming. It had been over a decade already. He was going to be married, he was going to die, and he was going to leave one more person behind when he did. 

He didn’t know what to do, and that was another thing that was rare for him. He had always been good with people, talking to them, getting along with them, but he didn’t want to do that here and he wasn’t sure how not to. Of course, there had been plenty of nstances where he had rubbed people the wrong way, but that was mostly around people who thought he came across too high and mighty, due to his manners and the way he had been taught. He was going to make himself crazy, going around and around like this in his head. He was no better for it either, once he reached the little cafe arranged for the meeting. It was quaint, he gave, though he was personally partial to place with more local color. Still, this was not the kind of meeting that would allow that part of himself. She would get the royal Graham, the Prince Graham. 

Then he was in front of her, face falling into what friends in college had coined his ‘politicians’ pleasant expression. He inclined his head in greeting, then offered out a hand. “Just Graham, please. I hate titles.” And as if just to contradict himself, he followed with, “you must be Princess Ulysses.” 

He couldn’t help but feel he was a little out of his depth. He felt much too young for this, still. He was more of a scholar himself, but research had told him she had a military background, and he was thinking that she must see him as soft. She would be right, of course. He kept himself in shape when it came to hiking and traveling, by he was by no means a hardened product of the world, and he could never tell how much that showed. 

Uly’s lip quirked as the contradiction escape his lips... as well as hearing her first name enunciated in its entirety. ‘Ulysses’ was such an old fashioned name, a reference to her mother’s love for Greek children’s tales. Shortening it to ‘Uly’ took some of the edge off that sword and made her feel slightly less mortified when her superiors utilized her whole name. I’m twenty-four for god’s sake.

His greeting had been nothing if not textbook polite, those hazelnut eyes boring into her soul as she reached out to shake his hand. It was only when she had grasped his hand fully that she remembered her mistake. Too late. Her instructors had chastised her again and again for her masculine handshake, such a tiny gesture that sparked a cascade of impressions. Handshaking with her only fingers like some dainty flower, however, simply felt wrong.

“I’d hope so... Unless there are other women waiting in private alcoves for you.” She managed, a wry smile tugging up the corners of her lips. She couldn’t help it... if she was going to be stuck with this guy for the rest of her life, she might as well get a feel for his humor. He would appreciate that more than a smattering of formless compliments and conversation about the weather, right?

She took him in, then. Truly took him in. The littering of callouses around his hands aligned with her research about his hiking and climbing background, the subtle shrug of his shoulders and forward posture heralding weeks bent over books. He looks fresh out of some magazine.

Uly’s mother had always assumed that she would be best suited with a husband who could match her fire. The first few men she had presented having come from military backgrounds, backs stiff and conversations formal. Quite to the contrary, Uly found herself more at ease with normal people. People she could joke with and learn from. If Graham was half as smart as her research implied, well... he was going to be sorely disappointed with her performance.

Feeling just as out of her depth as he likely was, Uly sat back in one of the two chairs before folding her hands in her lap. 

“How do you feel about... This?” She inquired after a moments silence, ever one to jump straight to the point. One hand raising to emphasize her point and gesture to each of them respectively. Uly was in no mood to dance around the point for the next hour, better to get it out of the way and then potentially move on to getting to know this man who was to be her husband.

[crownprincessuly]

The café was stunning in such ways only made possible by the archaic, beautiful surrounds of Athens and other such settings. Homely thatch tables comfortably coexisted with the stonework structure manned by a few carefully placed staff. Each table was indented in a discrete alcove affording it not only privacy but a beautiful outlook to the Saronic Gulf and surrounding ocean spotted with the odd island.

Subtle, Father. Truly subtle. He had no doubt arranged their first meeting at such a romantic setting intentionally. For a king, his actions could be terribly ham-fisted at times.

She had received the news via a brief phone call from her father. As busy as he was, he always made time to call her when important news arose. That oldfashioned chivalry of his afforded him a permanent place in Uly’s good books, regardless of the news that followed. Namely, in this case, that he had finally found a match for her.

Prince Graham Afia the Fifth, of South Africa.

Of course, Uly had done extensive research on the man immediately following the phone call. The youngest of three, he was a particularly adventurous soul despite also being academic. Had Uly been a romantic, she’d have thought him perfect. Good looking, smart, adventurous, fit... tick, tick, tick, tick. Regardless of all that, he had one quality looming over his head that Uly simply couldn’t ignore. Arranged.

Uly sighed and folded her hands in her lap, the sound of footsteps snapping her from such thoughts as none other than the Prince himself came around the corner, announced into their small alcove by a waiter. She stood, as was polite. Barely remembering her training. Forcing a faint smile onto her lips, she studied him intently.

“Prince Afia... A pleasure to finally meet you.”

@grahamafiav

[crownprincessuly]

“You are still holding yourself in too masculine a fashion, Princess. Come now, one more time. Chin up, shoulders forward, straight back. There. Was that so hard?”

… Yes.

Uly had spent nearly every ounce of spare time she had in Athens with her tutor, learning the ins and outs of being a good queen. She had mentally prepared for hours of grilling about politics and economics… instead, she had spent the past week learning how to act. How to present herself in a way that was more becoming of royalty and less like an overly egotistical brawler. Muscles aching from being forced into awkward positions all morning, Uly relaxed and rolled her shoulders in large circles, trying to loosen the cramps developing along her back. She felt like she was making progress but… she still had a long way to go.

Never thought I’d say this… but I miss the cutlery etiquette.

After a brief exchange of parting pleasantries she still didn’t understand but forced herself to endure, Uly left her rooms dressed casually in the hopes that she could avoid other royalty for the time being. She was not confident she would make a decent first impression yet… as had been shown in her recent encounters with Prince Aesir and Princess Holly. Letting her feet lead her, Uly found herself standing on one of the many overlooks to the ocean. In the distance, the sun was just rising. Crimson glow shimmering over the crystal waters that all but defined Greece.

It took only a few moments to realize she wasn’t alone, her head turning a fraction to her right as she spotted another woman peering into the distance. That wavey hair and slender figure sparked a hint of recognition from her lessons, a nagging sensation she couldn’t quite materialize into full-blown acknowledgment. Wait.

Adaline Kennedy. Uly smiled, happy with herself for recognizing the girl. That meant she was… the youngest of the Kennedy children, right? Uly shook her head, returning her gaze out to the ocean. She’s definitely doing better than I am.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Uly said after a few moments, voice raising just enough to carry the distance between them. Good start, Uly. Now. Keep it civil.

@princessadaline

[princessadaline]

With most of her demons laid to rest for the time being, Adaline was enjoying any spare time she had and was utilising it to her own free will. Dressed in jeans and a sweater, she wandered over towards the ocean, finding a comfortable area to sit on the brick wall and pulled out a novel she intended to read for the rest of the day, listening only to the breeze as it carried the sound of the ocean.

She heard the footsteps before she saw the woman, studying her for a moment before she placed her book into her lap, glancing out at the ocean the same way she was. It was beautiful and calming, a wonderful day to relax, especially considering how awful the weather was back at her home. 

“It is.”

[crownprincessuly]

Staring out at the ocean, Uly couldn’t help but feel each and every muscle in her body steadily relaxing inch by inch. The warming sunrise radiating through stiff and already tired joints before finally reaching her face. The fact that this girl was out here so early in the morning struck Uly as surprising. She had assumed most royals would be in bed asleep for as long as possible. For her, the early start was second nature... something her helpers consistently reminded her was both pointless and exhausting.

Uly considered the possibility that the girl was running from her thoughts as much as she herself was... then again, maybe she was just a normal person who enjoyed the sunrise and a good book. She decided to go with the latter. “Good book?” keeping her words scarce as the girl had, hands dropping into the warmth of her pockets as she turned her gaze back to the ocean.

[crownprincessuly]

kitporras‌:

“At least the drinks are good.” He shrugged. It figured that they’d have the good stuff, they could afford to pay for it, and he wasn’t about to pass it up. Not when there weren’t a lot of people here who would question him. Half of them were intimidated, the other half were too good to even look at him, and he was perfectly fine with that. 

“Busy enough. I spend half my time trying to get her out of her room.” He shrugged. Maybe it wasn’t technically his job, but he got bored easily, and Ella needed to socialize more. The country wasn’t going to love a queen they never saw, and he knew there was the potential for them to love her. 

“Seven years. Six with Ella.” It occurred to him a little too late that he should probably be referring to Ella with her title, but the damage was done at this point. Besides, it happened, and another bodyguard should understand that.

“Amen to that.” Uly mused, lifting her now empty glass in salute to his praise of the aforementioned liquor. “They’ve got the money to pay for it, after all.”

Uly found herself warming to the man, a smile residing comfortably on her lips for the first time in recent memory. It hadn’t been forced there, but had simply been scrounged from the depths of her personality at some point throughout the friendly, natural conversation. If he’s as good with his gun as he is with his words, Ella shouldn’t get so much as a scratch Uly thought idly, her grin widening at the thought as she passed her glass off to a passing waiter.

Uly absently retrieved a notepad from her back pocket - an old military habit she’d never managed to shake - before writing down a series of digits on a loose page torn out moments later. “My number, though you didn’t ask.” She mused, holding out the slip to him with a warm smile. She needed more friends, especially ones that didn’t treat her like royalty.

Don’t fuck this up, Uly.

[crownprincessuly]

“You are still holding yourself in too masculine a fashion, Princess. Come now, one more time. Chin up, shoulders forward, straight back. There. Was that so hard?”

... Yes.

Uly had spent nearly every ounce of spare time she had in Athens with her tutor, learning the ins and outs of being a good queen. She had mentally prepared for hours of grilling about politics and economics... instead, she had spent the past week learning how to act. How to present herself in a way that was more becoming of royalty and less like an overly egotistical brawler. Muscles aching from being forced into awkward positions all morning, Uly relaxed and rolled her shoulders in large circles, trying to loosen the cramps developing along her back. She felt like she was making progress but... she still had a long way to go.

Never thought I’d say this... but I miss the cutlery etiquette.

After a brief exchange of parting pleasantries she still didn’t understand but forced herself to endure, Uly left her rooms dressed casually in the hopes that she could avoid other royalty for the time being. She was not confident she would make a decent first impression yet... as had been shown in her recent encounters with Prince Aesir and Princess Holly. Letting her feet lead her, Uly found herself standing on one of the many overlooks to the ocean. In the distance, the sun was just rising. Crimson glow shimmering over the crystal waters that all but defined Greece.

It took only a few moments to realize she wasn’t alone, her head turning a fraction to her right as she spotted another woman peering into the distance. That wavey hair and slender figure sparked a hint of recognition from her lessons, a nagging sensation she couldn’t quite materialize into full-blown acknowledgment. Wait.

Adaline Kennedy. Uly smiled, happy with herself for recognizing the girl. That meant she was... the youngest of the Kennedy children, right? Uly shook her head, returning her gaze out to the ocean. She’s definitely doing better than I am.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Uly said after a few moments, voice raising just enough to carry the distance between them. Good start, Uly. Now. Keep it civil.

@princessadaline