prince edward

Prince Edward, Future King of England. 

[sjmusings]

Prince Edward, England: 

heavy is the head that wears the crown

[senecahearst]

One of my kind | 01

[prince-edwards]

senecahearst:

Her mother was an ocean away, but that hadn’t kept her voice from ringing in the brunette’s ears, reprimanding her for the manners she hadn’t displayed. She may have been a Hearst, but that hadn’t excused her behavior; if anything, Seneca should have made more of an effort to show that she understood his title and respected it. She was worried about how it had come across, if he had minded her not having used the term or if the students behind them had already started tweeting her misstep—the first, it was important to note, that she had ever made. Of the Hearst siblings, she was usually the one who held it together at events, the one her parents were proud to showcase because of her impeccable behavior, making her feel that much more self-conscious of not living up to that reputation. She could see the headlines now that would be published across tabloid new sources, taking the two sentences she’d said out of context and blowing them further out of proportion.

She spent the duration of the session mulling over the false media frenzy, anxiously sipping her tea as she hoped to keep her nerves at bay.  Her expression remained controlled, the pen flowing across the page with ease; if there was one thing she’d picked up over the years, it was how to feign calmness even in the midst of a media calamity—though she wouldn’t dare call it that. She was building it up within her head, the realization making her release a sigh of relief as the class concluded and she began to gather her things, paying no heed to the male beside her until he spoke directly to her.

“I kind of make it a rule to never say no to ice cream,” she mused, a genuine smile resting across her lips. “Though I wouldn’t consider you poor, your highness.” This time, the phrase felt too informal, teasing, a light pink hue shading her cheeks. “I feel like I keep putting my foot in my mouth with that. I..ice cream sounds nice,” she agreed, slinging her bag across her shoulder. “If you’ve got the time.”

If Edward were to be honest, he would realize that there was something quite off about this moment. A foreign emotion that was coursing through him, spreading its warmth. An emotion that began the moment he leaned into her. Normalcy. There was something dignified yet normal about her, that had him leaning further into her, if only to etch the details of it all into his very being. He wanted to be able to recall this moment, this emotion, to recall her. “Edward, call me anything but that. Please.” He murmured softly, finding he didn’t quite like the way those words sounded from her lips. As if she was stepping into a role that never fit her just right. 

Tilting his head to the side, he study her as she spoke. The blush that spread across her cheeks, only caused more warmth to spread through him. “I did ask, did I not?” He teased, sweeping the air between them, “Please, ladies first.” In his peripheral vision he could see the two suited men, trail behind them. It had been a condition that he couldn’t talk himself out of, his father wanting his heir protected at all times. He knew they would always be there, even the ones he didn’t see, the ones that had been paid to blend into the surroundings. But Harry and Charles were to be with him at all times, no matter what. 

Again if he were being honest, he would have realized he had no idea where they could find ice cream. Although no that it mattered really because what he had wanted was to spend more time with her, “Are you always that charming to your fellow classmates when they forget their books? Or are you not a sharer?” He wondered curiously, his tone still maintaining a hint of tease. 

[flyman1up]

[senecahearst]

One of my kind | 01

[prince-edwards]

senecahearst: 

She must have missed the memo–an impossible feat given the amount of time she would spend on social media and reading up on the news. Being a journalist herself, and a Hearst no less, there was no way this inkling of information would have fallen so far off her radar nor forgotten in the midst of her first day blues. Seneca had considered it heresy till it was confirmed, and then after having heard of the male’s major, decided the chances of her bumping into him would be slim. But here they were, their elbows almost touching given the proximity of their chairs and he was asking her a question. The words almost missed in her surprise as he took the seat next to her. His accent was different to the students that sat around them, but not foreign from the folks her parents would occasionally rub elbows with. Posh, royal, expensive, fitting of the man that would eventually become this country’s king, but ill placed in the current class room, much like her own.

“You’re making a poor first impression,” she teased, the American dialect prominent in the way she spoke–also noticeable, the lack of the term ‘highness’ at the end of the sentence. The brunette gently pushed the textbook towards him, reaching down towards her bag and digging out a pen before offering it in his direction. “That might come in handy as well.” She wasn’t sure where the confidence had come from, she was certainly fangirling in her own right, but had more experience than their other peers to be talking to someone of his caliber, though she was worried about coming off as being unkind or disrespectful to the future king.

She faced forward now, turning her attention towards the professor and doing her best to ignore the man seated beside her and how everyone’s eyes seemed to be fixated on him and her by association. Whispers filled the space between them of how lucky she was to be sitting there, how he could–and should–be sitting with one of the other girls behind them and other petty remarks, but Seneca merely ignored their comments, a brief smirk hidden within the smile that rested against pink lips as she listened in to the lecture and what would be covered in their course.

Eddie had waited for the perfunctory Your Highness yet it never came and for the first time in his life he wasn’t sure if he was grateful or offended. Although in all honesty her accent should have been the first clue, American. Yet he found he quite liked it, the soft tilt of her words yet the confidence in her tone. As if she didn’t quite care or fear who she was speaking to but instead acted as if she were speaking to another student. Which he supposed he was, at the very least to her. “I suppose I am. I promise to be better.” He smiled once more as he leaned closer to her, reading off the page as the professor spoke. Taking the pen in his hand, he chuckled softly, “It should. If only I didn’t have such a good memory,” he teased her back. Even if it were partially true, thanks to all the lessons he had to learn as the next heir. You couldn’t very well take notes as the Prime Minster spoke. 

Having grown up in the situations like these, it was quite easy for Eddie to tune out the murmurs and the stares. Hardly paying them any mind, perhaps though, he realized he should have sat in the corner by himself. Instead of forcing this girl to now be the center of attention, although he quickly noticed she dealt with it beautifully. Well it helped that she was indeed beautiful, from the curve of her nose to the fullness of her lips. Yes, Eddie had spent more time sneaking glances at the American next to him than the actual professor. Having only decided to take this class because of his love for it, not necessarily to better his political career. As the professor concluded class, everyone began to trickle out, giggling and still murmuring over his presence. 

“Thank you for today. I promise it won’t happen again, but maybe I can repay your kindness? How about an ice cream?” He tilted his head, his charming smile in place once more. Unsure of whether to trust her or not, he supposed he could always test her loyalty they way he often did. What he was sure of was that he wasn’t quite ready to let her runaway just yet. Or maybe he was just enjoying the freedom that was finally his, knowing the King was more than halfway back towards London and his bodyguards at a safe distance away from him. “What do you say? Help a poor man out.” He joked, his smile growing. 

[senecahearst]

One of my kind | 01

Butterflies bubbled within her as she walked towards her first class of the day; she should have been nervous, but found it replaced with excitement instead. Her transition to London living had been treating her well enough so far and she expected the school to do the same. Her roommates had different schedules, each girl studying something different, their paths having separated previously at the coffee house that sat outside of campus. Sen had stayed a little longer after they’d left, sketching at the table before realizing the time and making the trek over. She wasn’t late, she wouldn’t dare to be ever, let alone her first day, but quickened her step regardless on the off chance she got lost on the unfamiliar campus.

The heels of her boots clicked against the stone floors as she walked, bag swaying against her side, cup of tea in one hand, phone in the other. She was photographing everything of course, but for now, she make a quick video talking through the short trip and hit send, letting it disappear and reappear on her brother’s phone. She’d call him properly later, but wanted to update him in the moment before she entered the class.

The room was buzzing with whispers as she walked in, typical on the first day before the professor strolled in, but it seemed heightened here. Her brows furrowed as she filed into one of the aisles, taking up an empty chair, wondering what the others were talking about, catching a few words here and there. She went to ask the person seated beside her as the door opened and in filed the professor, silencing the room as she began the day’s lecture. They had barely made it through her introduction when the door opened once more, a familiar looking man walking in a few minutes late, starting up the whispers again.

“Thank you for finally joining us your highness. Please, take a seat.”

[prince-edwards]

“We are very excited to have you with us Your Highness.” The Vice Chancellor’s voice drone on his tone showcasing just how much, so much so that Eddie thought he was seconds from bowing. Oh wait, no, there was the bow. He could feel his own cheeks heat in embarrassment and his father’s lips threatening to rise. “I am very happy to be here, Sir.” He nodded, watching as the Vice Chancellor stance grew full of pride. With the King by his side and the Chancellor on the other, they walked him through the halls of the university. Eddie supposed if he were any other student, his father would have dropped him off sans press, with a good luck and nothing more. Yet he was not like anyone else, no, he was a future king. And that in itself warranted a red carpet welcome. 

They had arrived hours prior for the welcome, so that he wouldn’t be late for the first day of classes. Yet when did that ever work out for him? So now, he was rushing to get to class, his book having been left in his room. As he ran through the halls, he felt so free. That he couldn’t have cared less that he knew he was going to be embarrassed the moment he did walk into class, he had no real excuse for being late. Other than the fact he had stayed in his dorm room a little too long as he marveled over the fact that for the first time in his life, he wasn’t living in a palace. He fucking loved it. 

Slipping in the door, he nodded towards the professor, raising a hand in acknowledgement. As he could feel everyone around him realizing who exactly was in their class, although he supposed they already knew. Since the press had leaked his major weeks prior. Sitting in the only seat available, next to a girl who was absolutely stunning. “Is this seat taken?” Although he sat before she could even answer, his smile wide and full of charm. It was his usual smile when speaking to anyone who had the same look she had in held in her eyes. That of recognition, “Do you mind if we share a book? I forgot mine, in the rush to get here.” His voice was accented with that of clear pronunciation of syllables that often accompanied the posh English crowd.