Masterlist | Word Count: 10453
Pairings: G!p King! Natasha Romanoff x Princess!Reader.
Contains: Fantasy, Royalty, Teasing, Flirting, Falling, Injury, Mystery, Backstory, Kingdom alliance, Diplomacy, Missing, Protective, (Slight Jealousy?), Slow-burn, Subtle Tension, Rumors, Grammar and Editing Mistakes, not proof read cause im lazy.
A/N: Sorry this took long, tumblr is having issues while I was editing so had to redo over and over. Also edited differently cause I noticed I do double spaces oml, hope reading this is clear.
Taglist: @beggingonmykneesforher @red1culous @slutforabbyanderson @acollectionofrandomdreams @red1culous @chlck99
Weeks in Vostrovia, spring has finally come. Though, it wasn't the usual spring you've experienced, at least a little more warmth of the sun gave you a sigh of relief after spending countless days in the cold. Though, ice was there it was slowly melting and flowers slowly bloomed as it faded away.
You weren't just relieved, you felt blessed. Your stock of weeds and herbs were running out, Natasha offered you to buy for you but you didn't want to. Your 'hobby' wasn't a side hustle but a choice of yours that you love to do and you wanted to collect them personally. Though, as days passed and spring in the corner, you've noticed little herbs and flowers only grew.
Some are already collected and some are still not ready to be plucked up yet, now here you are stuck leaning on your window again sighing. You were once again stacked doing nothing but duties and some marriage preparation, it wasn't much. Which was the problem, your feet and hands are tickling to do something that you love and right now you want to restock your collection.
You were snapped out from your sad momento on the window when a soft knocked on your door, putting your mind back to the reality of the world.
"Come in."
You let out softly give the person permission behind those closed doors to enter, slowly the door creaked open to see your personal maiden that was assigned to you ever since you've arrived in Vostrovia.
"My lady, dinner is ready. Her Majesty is already there waiting for you."
Your personal maid informed you softly afraid she might be interrupting anything that you're currently doing.
"Oh, thank you for informing me. You may go."
You dismissed her as you stood up and carefully smoothen your dress, you let put a huff sigh and opened your door making your way down to the hall. You've reached the dining room and stopped for a moment when you only saw Natasha, your footsteps were heard and her head rose up.
"There you are, come. Sit, I prepared a feast for the both of us."
A seat beside her was already pulled out waiting for you, and there she was like it was nothing but natural. You both never had dinner just the two of you, it was either you have a company or two but today was different. You made your way to the seat you were given, you sat on the seat as you laid the white cloth on your lap before clearing your throat.
"SoâŠwhere is Princess Yelena and their Majesties?"
You asked, hopefully, if they were just late and you were just too early for the dinner time. Natasha looked at you and laid food on your plate like nothing was missing or wrong.
"Yelena and Mother had the business to take care of Valoria or the new Vostrovia. People can't survive without a ruler so we took care of it, while Father is visiting his friend."
You froze, they were away. All of them, and god who knows how long they will be away. Leaving you with her, alone.
"H-how long will they be gone?" You asked and you almost stuttered in the process of having the courage to even speak up.
"They just left yesterday, Yelena and Mother would probably takes weeks. Father, not so sure. Depends on his mood wether if he's lazy or not."
Natasha let out before taking a bite out of the muffin, and looked at you straight into your eyes.
"So yes, just you and me for now."
time the fact she knows what you're thinking, drowning your mouth filled with pasta. Natasha couldn't help but snicker seeing how flustered you are knowing it was just the two of you and for some reason you weren't having it.
"I heard you were having trouble stocking your herbs"
She laid her cup down before turning her attention on you and gosh the way she's looking at you just made you want the ground to open and swallow you whole.
"You won't let me buy those for you, at least let me tale you to the greenhouse."
A greenhouse, it shouldn't have been surprising not reallyânot in a place like this. And yet in a brief moment, it was a thought that you have forgotten.
Vostrovia was not only a kingdom of lineage and rule, but one of alliance and innovation. Its bond with Domina, formed two decades ago, had reshaped much of what the surrounding lands once knew. What began as diplomacy had grown into something far more enduringâan exchange of knowledge, of survival, of what each realm could not sustain alone.
Through that union, Vostrovia had moved beyond tradition, developing systems of life and preservation that allowed its people to thrive even through seasons that would have otherwise taken more than they gave. Vast, carefully maintained greenhouses stood as quiet proof of that cooperationâspaces where nature was no longer preserved for beauty alone, but sustained as necessity, nurtured beneath glass and structure so it might continue to feed both palace and people alike.
It was, indeed, a glorious alliance between the two kingdoms.
Domina did not simply accept any who came bearing wealth in hopes of favor; though its coffers were full and its needs long met, it turned away every hand that reached for its kingdomâŠ
No one knew what Vostrovia had done to earn Dominaâs favor, and for a long time it remained a quiet mysteryâwhispered only in the corners of court halls and behind gilded doors. Yet the alliance endured, allowing both kingdoms to grow side by side, their strength and prosperity rising like twin banners beneath the same wind⊠until the day everything changed.
"So what do you think?
Natasha asked, still looking at you with quiet patience, waiting for your thoughts or approval before she would accompany you and lead you toward the greenhouse.
Only then did the meaning of her words fully register. A place like that was not just practical. It was alive with possibility. You lifted your gaze from your plate without fully realizing you were doing it, and for the first time since the conversation began, something unguarded softened your expression. A small smile formed it was subtle at first, as though unsure whether it was allowed to stayâbefore growing just slightly more certain, carried by a quiet brightness that you did not try to suppress.
There was something almost childlike in it, not in age, but in feeling the kind of reaction that belonged to someone who had just been offered something unexpectedly gentle and meaningful. Your grip on hesitation loosened.
âIâŠâ you started, then paused, as if allowing yourself to fully accept the thought before giving it voice.
The sun rose high over the kingdom, spilling its gold upon the castle walls until even the stone seemed to glow. Birds drifted above the towers in slow, unhurried circles, their songs threading through the air like an old lullaby the land had long known by heart. The gardens below stirred with color and scentâpetals opening to the morning, leaves trembling gently beneath a soft passing breeze. It was a perfect sunny day made for peace, but yet, you were alone.
At your usual corner of the café near the palace grounds, where the world always felt a little quieter and time a little softer, your table stood neatly arranged as it always was. A parfait rested before you, chilled and delicate, its layers catching the light in pale shades of cream and fruit.
Beside it, a cappuccino sat warm and steady, its steam rising in thin, fading curls as though even it hesitated to leave its place. Everything was familiar, everything was in its place where it belongs.
All except the one across from you.
Earlier that morning, the palace had felt⊠incomplete. The halls were the same as ever, polished stone and draped banners swaying faintly where air moved through open arches, yet something had been missing from the rhythm of it all. You had taken breakfast alone, the silence at your table heavier than it should have been, each sound of cutlery against porcelain, the faint shifting of your chair feeling louder than ever in her absence.
Instead, it was Maria who arrived, her footsteps soft against the marble floor, measured and careful as she stepped into the room. In her hands she carried a sealed letter, its parchment pale and smooth, the royal seal pressed into wax that caught the morning light like a quiet promise. She said little as she placed it before you only enough for courtesy, nothing moreâbefore bowing her head and leaving you with it.
And now the morning stretched on without her, the kingdom moving gently under its sunlit sky, while you remained at your small corner table surrounded by warmth, by beauty, by life itself and still, with the quiet weight of absence sitting across from you.
Gently and slowly, you reached for the letter that Maria had left behind. The seal broke with a soft crack beneath your fingers, as though even it hesitated to part. You drew out the folded parchment within, careful, almost reverent, before unfolding it and letting your eyes fall upon the words waiting there.
"Meet me by your favorite cafe spot, I'll see you there."
- Natasha.
That was all that was written upon the paper, a simple ending to something you had thought might be more, there was no greetings or information where she was. Yet, here you were.
Hours had already slipped away since you first unfolded it, since Maria had bowed her head and left you with nothing but inked words and sealed wax. The kingdom had moved on in its usual rhythm, the sunlight drifting over rooftops, carriage wheels rolling faintly in the distance, the soft murmur of life continuing as if nothing had changed.
But for you, time had settled differently, slower somehow, heavier, as though it had chosen to pause and leave you behind in that small corner of the café. Your cappuccino had long since lost its heat, now resting lukewarm beside your hand, untouched for most of the afternoon.
The parfait remained where it had been placed, its delicate layers still neat and undisturbed, catching the fading light in soft, quiet colors. You sat with them like a still figure in a painting that no one noticed, eyes occasionally lifting toward the path where she might appear any moment, surelyâlike the world might suddenly decide to correct itself.
Without warning, the light itself seemed to change. A shadow moved across your table, not the gentle passing of clouds but something more deliberate, as though the sun had been asked to step aside. The warmth that had lingered on your skin vanished beneath it, replaced by a sudden coolness that pulled your attention upward before you even fully understood why.
You placed your cup down, slower than before, your fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary against the porcelain. Then you lifted your gaze.
A tall figure stood before you, cloaked in dark fabric that fell in heavy folds, catching the wind just enough to suggest movement beneath its weight. The brightness of the afternoon made it difficult to see at first, your eyes narrowing slightly as they adjusted to the contrast. But then, through the edge of shadow and light, details began to formâjust enough to steal the breath of certainty from your thoughts.
A hint of red hair, like a streak of flame hidden beneath nightâs cover paired with a glint of green eyes, steady and unmistakably focused on you, as though they had been searching for you long before you ever looked up.
She stood still for a moment, as if weighing the silence itself, before slowly lowering her hood. The motion was unhurriedâalmost ceremonial. The cloak fell back, revealing her face beneath the dim light she looked down at you, composed yet distant, like someone who had just stepped away from duties no one else could touch.
âApologies for being late,â she said, her voice calm but edged with quiet responsibility. âI had to take care of something. Shall we?â
Her words carried no explanation beyond what was givenâyet somehow, they felt like enough. Like a closed chapter that did not need to be read aloud. Without waiting further, she extended her gloved hand toward you. You took it gently.
âThe garden will not be far from here,â
She said before once again pulling her hood up, covering herself as the mysterious fabric fell neatly over her presence, and then she began to lead the way without another word. We passed by the nearby open market close to the castle, where life moved in warm, restless wavesâmerchants calling out their goods, villagers exchanging coin and laughter, the scent of bread and spices drifting through the air like a soft welcome to the kingdom beyond the palace walls.
From there, she guided us left, and as we turned, the world seemed to shift in quiet surprise, revealing something that did not belong to memory but stood firmly in reality: a garden that shone with an almost impossible brilliance, as if it had been newly born from light itself, untouched by winter or any trace of its cold touch.
I stopped in place, my thoughts stumbling over what my eyes were seeing, because I remembered clearly that this area had once been nothing more than a large, empty building of stone and silence, and yet now it stood transformed into something alive and blooming, as though the kingdom had rewritten its own past without warning or explanation.
âYour Majesty, when did this garden appear?â
I asked, my voice carrying confusion and curiosity as I turned my gaze toward her, searching for answers in her expression, but she kept her head straight ahead, continuing to look forward as though the question itself had already been answered somewhere beyond my understanding.
âWe used a technology where a warm barrier activates and protects the garden, providing solar energy and water from the resources we have,â
Natasha explained as we both arrived at the garden. Her voice carried a quiet certainty, as if she were simply stating the natural order of things rather than describing something remarkable. âThen we simply lowered the barrier as the summer blooms.â
As we stepped fully inside, the garden revealed itself in full presenceâlush, green, and vividly alive, every path and plant cared for with an almost reverent precision. The air itself felt softer here, warmer in a way that did not come from the sun alone but from the life carefully preserved within it.
It was unlike anything I had seen before, even compared to the gardens of Valoria, which were known across the kingdom for their beauty and pride. Yet this place surpassed them without effort, as though it had not been built to impress but to simply exist in its most perfect state. Before I could fully settle into that thought, a figure approached to greet us.
A woman with soft brunette hair and calm green eyes stood waiting among the blooms, her presence gentle yet certain, like someone who belonged as much to the garden as the roots beneath her feet.
Natasha turned slightly and addressed her without hesitation. âWanda, greetings I hope you could assist us. Weâre looking for herbs and stuff.â
The woman standing in front of us nodded with a composed grace before giving a small bow of her head, the kind that felt less like formality and more like habit shaped by years of living among gardens and royalty alike. A sweet, warm smile stayed on her lips, steady and unforced, as if nothing in this place ever truly rushed her.
âGlad I could help, Your Majesty,â
Wanda said gently, her voice carrying that calm familiarity of someone who had long been trusted within these walls.
âWhat are we looking for today?â
Natashaâs gaze shifted toward you almost immediately, silent but clear in its intent, as if the responsibility of the answer had been placed softly in your hands. You felt it in that brief exchangeâno pressure, only expectation. Your eyes met hers, and somehow, without a word, it felt understood that you were the one to speak.
âOh, uhmâŠâ
You started, slightly awkward at first as you gathered the names in your mind, then continued more clearly, âdo you perhaps have plantain, calendula, and valerian?â
Wanda nodded slowly as she listened, as though she was already picturing where each herb might grow within the gardenâs carefully tended sections. The names were repeated quietly under her breath, not in doubt but in gentle confirmation, like she was greeting old familiar friends. Around you, the garden seemed to breathe softly with the wind, leaves shifting in slow rhythm, sunlight resting over everything like a quiet blessing.
Then her attention shifted fully onto you. It was not sudden, but deliberate, like a door opening just enough to notice who had stepped inside. Her warm expression remained, but there was a subtle curiosity now in her eyes, the kind that came from seeing someone new within a place she knew so intimately.
âAh,â Wanda said after a brief pause, her tone still gentle but now carrying interest, âand who might you be?â
The question wasnât sharp or questioning in a harsh wayâit felt more like the garden itself pausing to recognize a presence it hadnât yet catalogued. Her gaze stayed on you, calm and attentive, as though she wasnât just asking your name, but also quietly acknowledging that you didnât belong to her memory of this kingdom yet⊠and that made you worth noticing.
âY/n, Princess of Valorââ You began, your voice steadying as you introduced yourself, only for Natasha to cut in smoothly, her tone carrying the kind of authority that didnât leave room for hesitation.
âSheâs my fiancĂ©.â
The words landed cleanly, spoken without pause or doubt, as if she had simply stated something already written into law. You turned your head toward her at once, a tight, controlled smile forming on your lipsâpolite, composed, but very clearly carrying the unspoken thought that you were more than capable of speaking for yourself.
It was still true, of course, your engagement standing as a recognized bond between kingdoms, but you couldnât help the faint sting of being introduced like a sealed announcement rather than a person. Wandaâs expression shifted at once, her calm curiosity sharpening into something more playful as her gaze returned fully to you.
âOhh,â she said lightly, a smile curling at the edge of her lips, âso youâre the gorgeous woman rumored months ago arriving with Natasha.â
Her eyes moved over you in a brief, assessing glanceânot unkind, but observant in a way that felt like she was confirming a story she had already half-accepted from whispers in palace corridors and passing court rumors. The kind of rumors that traveled faster than messengers and grew richer with every retelling.
âI guess some rumors are true after all.â
Her smirk lingered for a heartbeat longer, as if she had deliberately placed that thought in the air just to watch how it would settle, before she turned without further ceremony, already stepping away into the garden as though the conversation had naturally reached its end.
The moment she left, the space felt suddenly warmerâand far more exposed. You could feel the heat rising faintly to your cheeks, caught somewhere between embarrassment and disbelief at how casually she had spoken. Beside you, Natashaâs eyebrow lifted slightly, a quiet reaction that said she had not missed a single word, nor the way Wanda had delivered them.
âWe indeed do have the plantain and calendula, however valerian is not something we have right now,â
Wanda said as she guided you further inside the greenhouse, her tone calm and unbothered, as if shortages of certain herbs were simply part of the natural rhythm of tending a living place. The glass structure of the greenhouse caught the light in soft, fractured patterns, scattering warmth across the wooden shelves and hanging pots.
Inside the air felt richerâthicker with the scent of earth, crushed leaves, and blooming life carefully preserved. Wanda moved with quiet familiarity as she opened a cabinet and began searching through neatly labeled containers, her hands steady as she sifted through dried bundles of plantain and calendula.
While she worked, you found your attention drifting away from her movements and toward everything else around you. Your eyes traced the endless shades of green layered within the greenhouse, from delicate sprigs carefully nurtured in small pots to climbing vines that curled along the glass like they were trying to touch the sun itself. Beyond the transparent walls, the larger garden stretched outward in perfect harmony, glowing under the light as if it had been painted directly from the kingdomâs most peaceful dream.
It was astonishing in a way that felt almost quiet rather than loudâbeautiful not because it demanded attention, but because it naturally held it. Every corner seemed intentionally alive, cared for, and protected, as though even time moved differently here, slower and gentler.
For a moment, something tugged softly at your thoughts, unspoken but familiar. The sight of it allâthe careful order, the vibrant growth, the sheer abundance of lifeâmade your chest feel a little heavier in a way you couldnât quite name. It reminded you of Valoria, of your own gardens back home, and suddenly, almost unexpectedly, you found yourself longing for them. Not because this place lacked anything, but because memory had its own quiet pull, and beauty often made the past feel closer than it should.
After Wanda finally found the two herbs, she carefully gathered the plantain and calendula, wrapping them in a neatly folded paper bag before tying it with a simple string, her movements practiced and gentle, like someone who had done this a thousand times yet still treated each bundle with care. She turned back toward you with that same soft, familiar smile, holding the bag out as if it were something more precious than it appeared.
âHere you go, Lyubov,â
She said warmly, the word slipping out naturally, like it belonged in the air of the greenhouse as much as the scent of herbs and soil. You accepted the bag with a polite smile, fingers brushing the paper as you gave a quiet thanks in return, the exchange simple but polite, like all things within the boundaries of royal courtesy and unfamiliar acquaintance.
Not even a full minute passed before Natasha cleared her throat, the sound subtle but deliberate, cutting cleanly through the calm atmosphere of the greenhouse. Without warning or hesitation, her hand reached out and took the paper bag from you in one smooth motion, as though it had already been decided before you even realized what was happening.
âLet me carry it for you,â she said, her tone firm in a way that allowed no argument, yet still calm enough to feel like protection rather than command.
You blinked slightly at the sudden gesture, caught off guard more by how quickly it happened than by the intention behind it. There was a brief pause where you considered objecting, a thought that flickered and faded almost immediately. In the end, you didnât resistâthere was no point in doing so. Natasha had always been like this in her own way, steady and unyielding when it came to the smallest things, just as stubborn as you were in moments that mattered more.
âAh!â Wanda suddenly brightened, as if a thought had just clicked into place. âI rememberâat the east border, you can find Valerian there. Itâs quite a little far, but itâs manageable. I hope that information helps.â
The moment the words left her, something in you shifted instantly. Your eyes lit up with unmistakable excitement, as though a hidden door had just been opened in a place you had been searching for without realizing. A wide smile formed on your lips before you could even properly contain it, bright and unguarded, the kind of expression that belonged more to wonder than to royalty. For a brief moment, you looked less like a princess bound by titles and more like someone discovering a sweet, distant haven they had only ever imagined.
âEast border?â
Natasha echoed, her tone calm but thoughtful, as if the memory had already been stored somewhere in her mind.
âIâve been there when I was a kid. It is indeed rich in nature.â
She turned her attention toward you as she spoke, but by the time her gaze fully met yours, you were already looking up at her, eyes wide and shining with an almost childlike hopefulness that made the entire moment feel dangerously soft around the edges.
âCan we go, pleaseee?â you asked, your voice carrying a gentle plea wrapped in excitement, the kind that left no room for pride and only honesty behind it.
Natasha let out a slow sigh, the kind that carried more restraint than frustration, as her gaze drifted away for a moment as though weighing something unseen. The excitement in your voice lingered in the air between you both, but it was met with a quiet boundary she could not step past.
âI canât accompany you,â she said at last, her tone steady but noticeably restrained. âIâm under restrictions.â
The words settled heavily, not dramatic, but firm in a way that suggested history rather than inconvenience. There was a brief silence after she spoke, the kind that filled itself with unspoken reasons she did not feel the need to explain aloud.
Behind you, Wandaâs expression subtly shifted. One of her brows lifted slightly, and a faint, knowing smirk tugged at her lips as she watched the exchange unfold. It wasnât loud amusementâmore like quiet recognition, the kind shared by someone who had known Natasha long enough to understand what ârestrictionsâ truly meant when placed on her.
Natasha, sensing it without even turning fully, cast Wanda a sharp, warning glance that immediately silenced any further visible reaction, though it did nothing to erase the amusement in Wandaâs eyes.
It was almost ironicâseeing Natasha, of all people, bound by rules and actually abiding by them. Someone who had always carried a reputation for bending paths now forced to stand still by decree. Before the moment could settle further, you spoke again, hope still lingering in your voice despite the answer you suspected.
âI can go alone.â The words barely finished leaving your lips before Natasha responded, immediate and unwavering.
âAbsolutely not,â
She said firmly, her attention snapping back to you. âWho knows where you would run.â
There was no anger in her tone only certainty, protective in a way that left no space for argument. The kind of refusal that was less about control and more about refusal to leave you unguarded, even for a moment.
âYou can assign someone to go with her if thatâs safer,â Wanda said smoothly, slipping into the conversation with the kind of timing that felt almost intentional, though her tone remained light and reasonable.
âThose valerian are quite rare. This season people will start harvesting them, and there wonât be any left.â
The suggestion landed cleanly between you and Natasha, precise enough to shift the direction of the discussion. It was simple, practical, and undeniably sensibleâbut it also made Natashaâs eye twitch ever so slightly, the smallest crack in her usual composure.
Wanda, for her part, simply continued as if she had only been discussing garden logistics, though the faint curve of her lips suggested she was well aware of the effect her words had caused Natasha turned her head just enough to send her a sharp, warning glance. You quickly stepped in before the silence could grow heavier.
âWandaâs right,â you said, your voice softening as you turned back to Natasha with a hopeful look. âPlease? I promise I wonât run off.â
There was a brief pause after that long enough for the warmth of the greenhouse to feel suddenly still. Natasha let out a quiet huff, raising a hand to rub at her temple as though trying to ease the tension that had settled there. Her gaze drifted away for a moment, caught between duty, promise, and the very obvious fact that you were looking at her exactly like that again.
She had, after all, made a promiseâto provide what you needed. And Natasha was not the kind of person who broke her word, especially when it involved royal matters and binding agreements with a king. Even if it complicated everything else. When she finally spoke, her voice was firm, measured, and final in a way that allowed no further negotiation.
âFine,â She said.
âYou will leave with Steve and Wanda. Steve is one of the great wings I have, and Wanda will keep you in touch.â
Her gaze settled on you more directly then, steady and unmistakably serious, the warmth of earlier replaced with something sharper, more protective.
âDonât be reckless,â she added, her tone lowering just slightly. âI mean it.â
As soon as Natasha relented, your eyes lit up instantly, a spark of excitement breaking through your usual composure. A wide smile spread across your lips before you even realized it, bright and unguarded in a way that made your cheeks ache from how unfamiliar the expression felt. It wasnât often you allowed yourself to look so openly pleased, especially not in royal company, but in that moment, it slipped out naturally, like something you had been holding back far too long.
âThank you, Your Majesty,â you said with genuine warmth, your voice steady but softened by gratitude. âI promise I am in my best and well manners.â
Natasha gave you a brief, measured look at that, as if silently reminding you that âwell mannersâ meant more than just wordsâbut she said nothing to undo her decision.
âLetâs head back,â she said simply, then turned slightly toward Wanda. âThank you, Wanda.â
Wanda inclined her head with a calm, knowing smile, her expression still carrying that quiet amusement from earlier, though now softened with genuine approval as well. âAnytime, Your Majesty.â
You followed Natashaâs lead, offering Wanda your own polite goodbye before turning away from the greenhouse. The garden behind you seemed to linger for a moment longer in your memoryâthe warmth, the color, the impossible feeling of something carefully preserved against the world.
Outside, a carriage was already waiting near the edge of the garden path, its presence neat and deliberate, as though it had been called for without hesitation. The horses stood steady, and the driver remained prepared, suggesting Natasha had already arranged the return without delay the moment her decision was made.
Duty, as always, waited just beyond the gardenâs gates.
She opened the carriage door for you first, holding it steady with practiced ease as you stepped inside. Only after you were seated did she follow, settling across from you with the same composed posture she always carried, even in something as simple as travel. The door closed with a firm click, and almost immediately, the carriage began to move, wheels rolling against stone as it carried you both away from the garden and back toward the rhythm of palace duty.
The motion outside softened into a steady rhythm, the kind that made conversation feel both private and inevitable. Inside, however, the silence was not emptyâit was simply contained, like everything else around Natasha when she chose it to be.
Back at the greenhouse, the warmth of the garden remained untouched as life continued on its own quiet schedule. It wasnât long before another presence arrived. A muscular man stepped into view, his presence grounded and alert even before he spoke, as though he carried responsibility the way others carried weight. His attention immediately swept the space, searching with purpose.
âGood afternoon, Wanda,â he greeted with calm familiarity before continuing, polite but direct. âI wanted to ask you about Her Majesty.
We were supposed to be training, but sheâs nowhere.â
Wanda glanced up from what she was doing, recognizing him instantly. A faint chuckle slipped past her lips at the question, not unkind, but knowing in a way that suggested she already expected this conversation.
âCaptain Steve, she let out acknowlodging his presence, straightening slightly as she faced him. âShe accompanied her fiancĂ©.â
She let the words settle just long enough to register before continuing, her tone light but pointed in a way that made the implication very clear from the memories earlier.
âNo offense, Captain, but someone has their priorities straight, well...
not really.â
The carriage was already waiting outside the castle, positioned neatly along the stone pathway as the kingdom stretched into a bright, settled day. The sunlight rested high above, warm and steady, casting a soft gold over everything it touched, as if the world itself had paused in a rare moment of calm before your journey began.
As you approached, two figures stood by the carriage.
One you immediately recognizedâWanda, dressed in simple, practical clothing suited for travel, her usual grace now paired with something more grounded, a satchel resting comfortably at her side as though she had done this many times before. Beside her stood a man you had never seen within the castle walls, yet his presence carried the unmistakable weight of discipline and duty.
He stepped forward first.
âGood morning, Princess,â he said, voice clear and respectful as he gave a precise, practiced bow. When he rose, his expression was steady but warm, a bright, confident smile shaped more by training than ease.
âCaptain Steve Rogers at your service. I will be guarding you on your journey.â
There was no hesitation in his tone, only certaintyâlike the role he spoke of had already been accepted long before he arrived. He then turned slightly, offering a second greeting with equal respect.
âGood morning, Princess. Shall we?â
Wanda gave you a small nod in greeting, her presence relaxed but attentive, as though already aware of the road ahead. There was a quiet familiarity in her demeanor nowâless greenhouse and more expedition, ready for whatever the journey required.
Without delay, Steve moved to the carriage door, opening it smoothly and holding it steady. You stepped in first, followed shortly by Wanda, who settled in beside you with practiced ease, adjusting her satchel as the door closed behind you.
Outside, Steve closed the carriage with a firm motion before moving to the front, taking his place beside the royal coachman. He climbed up with effortless control, settling beside the reins as if the position belonged to him just as naturally as standing guard.
The reins tightened in his hands.
A small flick of motion followed, and the horses responded immediately, hooves shifting against the stone as the carriage began to move. His voice carried just faintly back through the air as the journey officially began.
The journey stretched on in a steady rhythm, the carriage wheels rolling over the road with a calm persistence that made time feel slower, almost softer. You were already halfway to your destination, far enough from the kingdom that the familiar silhouette of its walls had begun to fade into memory rather than sight. Outside the window, the landscape opened wider with every passing mileâfields thinning into wild stretches of land, scattered trees bending gently with the wind, and distant hills rising like quiet guardians of the horizon.
Inside the carriage, Wanda sat opposite you, her posture relaxed but attentive, the kind of presence that made conversation feel both natural and intentional. You remained by the window, your gaze resting on the passing world outside, watching it shift without urgency, as though it had all the time in existence to simply be.
After a comfortable silence, Wanda tilted her head slightly, curiosity finally finding its way into words.
âSo, Princess,â she began carefully, her tone light but thoughtful, as though she was choosing each word with care.
âMay I ask what got you interested in apothecary?â
There was no pressure in her question, only genuine interest, though beneath it lingered the awareness that not many royals were asked such thingsâand fewer still were expected to have an answer beyond duty or tradition.
You didnât turn away from the window immediately. Your eyes lingered on the distance where land met sky before you finally spoke, your voice steady and honest.
âWell, there wasnât much to do,â you said simply, as though it were the most natural truth in the world. âSo I decided to learn other things. Itâs not necessary, yes, but I love doing it either way.â
The words were quiet, but they carried something deeper beneath themâsomething unspoken but understood in fragments. A life where expectations had always been clear, where roles were assigned before choices were offered, where you were meant to exist in a way that pleased others more than yourself.
People often reacted to that truth with surprise. Royals were expected to be ornamental, present but not wandering beyond their purpose, admired but not curious. You had been expected to simply appear, to be graceful, to be beautiful, to serve the image of what the kingdom wanted. But that was never what you wanted, and it never would be.
Wanda simply looked at you for a moment with a blank, unreadable expressionâno surprise, no exaggerated reaction, nothing that suggested she found your answer unusual in the way most court-born people would. She just observed quietly, as if she were listening more than reacting, before nodding once and letting a small, calm smile settle on her lips.
âYou know,â she said after a brief pause, her tone light but steady as she leaned back slightly against the carriage seat, âevery princess would only want to be a damsel in distress.â
The words were spoken casually, almost like a passing observation rather than a challenge, but they carried the weight of something she had likely seen many times beforeâexpectations shaped long before choices were ever offered.
You turned from the window to face her properly, and instead of taking offense, there was only a slow shift in your expressionâa grin forming, controlled but unmistakably sharp, the kind that didnât come from arrogance but certainty. You didnât rush your answer, didnât soften it either.
âWell,â you said calmly, meeting her gaze without hesitation, âthatâs the thing, isnât it? Iâm not âevery princess.ââ
It wasnât loud. It didnât need to be. The statement simply existed as it was, firm and unshaken, like something you had already decided long before anyone else ever tried to define you.
Wanda didnât respond immediately. She just looked at you for a moment longer, studying you with quiet attention, as though she was reassessing something she had only just begun to understand about you. Then her expression eased, and a faint smile returned, followed by a small shake of her head a subtle, but clearly amused.
The carriage continued moving for a while after that, the rhythm of the wheels steady and unbroken, until the sound beneath them gradually shifted. The smooth road gave way to rougher ground, the motion slightly heavier, as though the path ahead was no longer maintained by the kingdomâs careful hands but left more to nature and time.
Outside the window, the scenery slowly changed as the carriage advanced. The structured order of royal roads thinned out, replaced by open stretches of land where grass grew unevenly and trees stood in scattered groups rather than deliberate rows. The air itself felt different here less shaped, less controlled, more open.
Wanda shifted slightly and reached forward, pulling the curtain aside just enough to look out properly, her gaze scanning the path ahead before settling on what lay beyond.
âWeâre here,â she said.
She said it simply before opening the carriage door and stepping out first, her movements steady and practiced as she held the door open for you in quiet courtesy. You followed after her, carefully stepping down from the carriage, your feet finally meeting the ground as the motion of travel faded behind you and the world settled into stillness.
For a moment, you just stood there.
Your gaze lifted slowly, taking in everything around you as though your eyes were trying to memorize the place before your thoughts could interrupt it. The land stretched wide and untouched, rich with life in a way that felt almost untouched by time itself. Trees rose tall and full, their leaves thick and healthy, casting shifting patterns of shade over the ground. Wild plants grew freely at their roots, not controlled or trimmed, but thriving exactly as they were meant to, as if the earth itself had decided to keep this place alive without interference.
There was something almost overwhelming about itânot in a loud way, but in a quiet, steady one. It didnât demand attention; it simply deserved it. A kind of beauty that didnât feel built or maintained, but naturally existing, as if it had never known what it meant to be claimed or changed.
A place that had not yet been shaped by ambition or polished by pride, and because of that, it carried a kind of purity that made even the air feel different when you breathed it in.
âThis place is beautiful,â
You said softly, the words leaving you on a quiet exhale, as if speaking too loudly might somehow disturb the peace of it all, as if even your presence needed to be careful not to disturb what was here. For a brief moment, you stood still after speaking, your expression softened in a way that felt almost vulnerable but not weak, but aware. Like someone standing in front of something too honest to ignore.
Wanda watched you from the side, her usual calm expression still present, but now carrying something gentler beneath it. There was a faint smile on her lips as she observed you not in amusement this time, but in quiet recognition. It wasnât often, in her experience, that people paused long enough to truly see places like this anymore. Even fewer did so without immediately trying to own, change, or use them.
That alone seemed to make Wandaâs expression soften a little more as she glanced out over the land again, the wind moving lightly through the trees as the journey ahead quietly waited beyond the edge of where the carriage had stopped.
âCome on, letâs search for that plant, shall we?â
Wanda said as she took the lead, her voice calm but purposeful as she began walking deeper into the stretch of wild land. You followed right behind her, still quietly taken in by everything around you. Even as you moved, your eyes kept drifting from the path to the trees, to the way the wind bent the grass in soft waves, as if the land itself was breathing. There was something about it that made it hard to look away, like the place was gently pulling your attention in every direction at once.
Behind you, Steve stepped down from his position with practiced ease, giving the coachman a brief, respectful nod of gratitude before falling into step a short distance behind. His presence wasnât intrusive, but it was steadyâwatchful in a way that made it clear he was there to ensure nothing went wrong.
âWe will come back,â he said simply, glancing ahead as he adjusted his pace to match yours. âWe wonât be far.â
It wasnât a warning, nor was it unnecessary reassurance. It was just a statement of responsibility, spoken like someone who had already accounted for every possible outcome. The group moved forward together, the terrain gradually shifting as you left the cleared stopping point behind. The ground became softer, slightly uneven, with patches of wild growth thickening the further you went.
The sound of water began to appear faintly in the distance it was subtle at first, like a memory of movement rather than a clear presence. Wanda glanced over her shoulder toward you while walking, her tone shifting back into focus.
âValerian can be seen along edges of streams, rivers, or ponds,â she explained, scanning the land ahead as she spoke.
âAny would do. How much do you need?â
As she asked, you drifted slightly closer to her side, your steps lighter now with growing excitement. There was something almost childlike in the way your attention sharpened at the mention of actually finding itâlike the idea alone had already made the journey feel successful before it even began.
âJust enough to fill this bottle I have,â
You said as you adjusted the small sling at your side, carefully pulling out a glass bottle from its compartment. It was mid-sized, simple in design, but sturdyâclearly meant for travel and practical use rather than decoration. You held it up slightly as proof, the light catching faintly on its surface.
âThat should be enough,â you added with a small nod.
Wanda glanced at it and gave a short, approving nod of her own before reaching into her satchel and pulling out a container of her ownâslightly larger than yours, more prepared for collecting in bulk.
âThat works,â she said calmly, already shifting her attention back toward the path ahead. âIâll grab some too for supplies.â
Steve, who had been quietly observing the surroundings, stepped a little closer into view, his posture alert but controlled. His hand rested near his sword, not drawn yet, but ready in a way that suggested habit more than alarm. His eyes moved across the terrain before settling on a direction slightly to the left.
âI believe thereâs a river by here,â he said, pointing toward a natural opening in the landscape where trees arched together overhead, their branches and vines forming something like a living tunnel.
Without waiting for further discussion, he began leading the way.
As you followed, Steve moved with careful precision, occasionally drawing his sword just enough to cut away hanging vines or obstructing branches that could slow the group down or cause harm. Every motion was controlledâsharp enough to clear a path, but measured enough to avoid damaging more than necessary. He didnât tear through the land; he worked with it, clearing only what was needed to pass safely.
A steady rush of water gradually grew louder as you moved deeper through the trees, until it finally broke through the silence of the forest completely. The sound became clearer with every step, until the landscape ahead opened up and revealed a waterfall spilling down from a natural height, its flow smooth and continuous as it struck the pool below and scattered into a soft mist that lingered in the air.
The water was unusually clear, catching the light in shifting patterns as it moved, and the entire place felt almost unreal in its calm beauty, as though it had been untouched for a very long time.
At the edges of the stream and where the water gently spread across the land, clusters of valerian could be seen growing naturally among the stones and damp soil. The flowers were pink and white, scattered in a way that looked unforced and peaceful, as if the land itself had chosen this place for them to thrive without interference. There were more than expected, enough that it suggested this area had not been disturbed or harvested for quite some time, allowing nature to grow freely without interruption.
âThere it is, letâs get them and return immediately,â Wanda said without hesitation as soon as she saw them, immediately shifting into action.
She moved with practiced efficiency toward the plants, carefully crouching near the edge of the growth and beginning to gather the valerian into her container. Her movements were quick but controlled, making sure not to damage the surrounding plants or disturb the soil more than necessary as she worked. Steve remained slightly behind, his attention not on the flowers but on the surrounding forest, standing watch as he kept himself alert to anything that might be out of place.
You, on the other hand, stayed closer to the bushes away from the slippery riverbank, focusing on your own task. Carefully, you knelt down and began plucking the valerian growing along the safer patches of land, gathering them gently and steadily into your bottle. The sound of rushing water filled the space around you, steady and constant, blending with the soft rustle of leaves and the distant movements of your companions.
For a brief moment, everything felt calm and undisturbed, as if the forest itself was simply allowing you to take what you needed.
Then the bush just behind you shook slightly.
It was subtle at first, almost something you could have dismissed if the forest had been louder or if your attention had been elsewhere. But here, in this quiet clearing with only the sound of water and wind, the movement stood out clearly. It was not caused by the breeze or the shifting of branches under weight; it was a deliberate, contained rustle that broke the rhythm of everything around you.
Your hands paused mid-motion, still holding the valerian you had just picked, as your awareness slowly shifted backward toward the source of the movement.
You carefully set aside the valerian you had been gathering and stepped closer to the bush, moving slowly so as not to startle whatever had caused the movement. The leaves parted slightly as you leaned in, and what you saw softened the tension immediately. A small fawn stood there, barely hidden by the greenery, its delicate frame still unsteady in the way young creatures often were. Its big black eyes looked up at you without fear, only quiet curiosity, as if it had been the one observing you first.
âWell, hello there, little one,â
You said softly, your voice naturally lowering into something gentler as you crouched a little to meet its height.
âWhat are you doing here?â
The fawn tilted its head in response, then gave a few small, playful hops in place, its movements light and eager, as if trying to communicate something without words. It didnât run away or retreat; instead, it lingered just close enough, watching you carefully, as though it had already decided you were safe.
You couldnât help the small chuckle that escaped you at its behavior, the tension of the task momentarily replaced by something far simpler and warmer.
âDo you need something?â you asked again, softer now, offering a small smile as you straightened slightly. âLead the way.â
At that, the fawn seemed to decide instantly. It turned with a quick, light motion and began to hop forward, pausing every few steps to make sure you were following before continuing deeper into the forest. Its movements were cheerful and unafraid, guiding you away from the clearing where Wanda and Steve remained, still focused on the valerian near the river.
Without much hesitation, you followed.
The forest around you shifted as you moved further in, becoming denser in some places while opening into small natural paths in others. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in scattered beams, landing on patches of moss, wildflowers, and unfamiliar plants you hadnât noticed before. Each step revealed something newâclusters of herbs growing in hidden corners, vines curling around ancient-looking trees, and flowers blooming in colors that seemed almost too vivid to belong in a place so untouched.
All the while, the fawn continued leading you forward, its small figure weaving confidently through the undergrowth as if it knew every inch of the forest by heart.
âSo where are we going, hmm?â
You asked softly as you continued following the small fawn deeper into the forest, your voice carrying just enough curiosity to fill the quiet between the rustling leaves.
The fawn paused for a moment, turning its head back toward you. It let out a small, soft squeal as if in response, then suddenly broke into a light, eager jog, moving ahead with renewed purpose. Its steps were quick but careful, weaving through the undergrowth as though it knew exactly where it was leading you, even if you didnât.
The trees gradually began to thin, and the ground shifted beneath your feet as the forest opened into a quieter, slightly overgrown clearing. Something about it felt older than the surrounding woods, as if time itself had passed through here differently. Moss covered uneven stones, and patches of wild growth spread across what looked like once-cleared ground. At the center stood a structureâpartially worn, weathered by years of neglect, yet still unmistakably a tower of some kind. Its shape rose upward in broken but persistent lines, like something that had refused to fully disappear.
âWhatâs thisâŠ?â you murmured under your breath, slowing your steps as you took in the sight, your attention fully drawn to the forgotten structure ahead.
At the riverbank, the atmosphere remained calm and steady as Wanda finished carefully gathering the last of the valerian she needed. Her container was now filled, secured neatly within her satchel as she stepped back with a satisfied look, brushing her hands lightly as if to clear away any remaining soil.
âI think thatâs all,â she said, glancing at her work. âThese are enough. We donât need to collect it all.â
Steve nodded slightly beside her, moving to rinse his hands by the river, the water flowing steadily over his fingers as he remained alert even in his moment of pause. The sound of the stream filled the brief silence between them, calm and uninterrupted.
Wanda turned slightly, her gaze naturally shifting toward where she had last seen you. But then she stopped,
You were gone.
Wandaâs eyes snapped back toward the clearing the moment she realized you were no longer in sight, and at first it was still calmâtoo calmâlike her mind was refusing to immediately accept what her eyes were already confirming. She looked around the riverbank again, expecting to see you just a few steps away, maybe crouched behind a bush or moved slightly further into the trees while distracted, but there was nothing. No movement, no sound, no hint of where you had gone.
âSteve? Fuckâ
She called out sharply, her voice breaking the calm of the forest and cutting through the steady sound of the river. Steve, who had just finished washing his hands near the stream, looked up at once with a confused but alert expression, immediately sensing the shift in her tone.
âYe?â he answered, already straightening as his attention shifted fully to her.
Wanda didnât respond right away because she was still searching, her eyes moving faster now across the trees, the ground, the edges of the clearing, as if repeating the act of looking hard enough might somehow bring you back into view. But the more she looked, the more the reality settled inâthere was no trace of you in the place where you had been standing just moments ago.
No footsteps leading away clearly, no rustling in the nearby bushes, nothing that explained where you had gone or how far you could have moved in such a short time without anyone noticing. And that was when the worry started to sharpen into something heavier.
Her breath caught slightly, controlled but tense, and her grip on her satchel tightened without her even realizing it, the usual calm composure she carried starting to crack under the pressure of uncertainty. It wasnât just that you were out of sightâit was that in a place like this, surrounded by unfamiliar forest and unknown paths, being out of sight meant being vulnerable in a way neither of them could afford.
âSteve,â
She said again, her voice lower now but urgent, the seriousness fully settling in as she turned her head toward him,
âSheâs gone. Sheâs nowhere to be seenâoh Lord, did you see her?â
âWhat? Sheâs gone?â
Steve immediately straightened, his relaxed posture gone in an instant as he looked around the forest more sharply, trying to spot any sign of you nearby.
âYes! Sheâs goneâoh my goodness, why didnât you accompany her?â
Wanda said quickly, her voice rising as she started pacing and scanning the trees, clearly shaken as she moved deeper toward the edge of the forest while calling out your name.
âI was helping you!â Steve replied firmly, frustrated but alert, already stepping away from the river and following her lead as he began searching the area with focused urgency.
âWELL NOW SHEâS GONE AND WEâRE DEAD!â
Wandaâs voice broke through the trees as panic finally took over, her usual control completely gone as she raised her voice louder than before.
âWe have to find her immediately, Y/N!â
Steve didnât argue this time. He was already moving with her, both of them calling your name over and over again, their voices echoing through the forest with growing urgency. It wasnât just concern anymoreâit was pressure, the kind that came when silence felt too heavy and every second without an answer made things worse.
Back where you were, the fawn had already slipped away, disappearing between the trees as quickly and quietly as it had appeared, leaving you alone in the unfamiliar clearing behind the old tower.
You stood still for a moment, looking around slowly as the realization settled that you were no longer on the same path you had followed. The place felt quiet in a different way now, like the forest around you had shifted slightly while you werenât paying attention.
âI should really get backâŠâ
You murmured to yourself, your voice softer now, a little uncertain as you tried to recall the exact direction you had come from. But the path wasnât as clear in your memory as it should have been, the forest blending together in a way that made it hard to tell where you had entered from.
Before you could move, something caught your attention.
A soft gleam near the back of the tower.
You turned your head slightly and noticed it immediatelyâa flower unlike anything you had seen before. It was fully bloomed, its petals open and healthy, glowing faintly in the light as if it didnât belong to the same forest around it. There was something almost unnatural about how perfect it looked, yet at the same time, it felt strangely inviting, as though it had been waiting to be noticed.
Your steps slowed almost without permission as you approached the flower, completely drawn in by its unnatural beauty. It didnât belong here in any way that made senseâtoo perfect, too vivid, too untouched compared to everything around it. The petals were fully open, glowing faintly under the broken light filtering through the trees, as if the flower was quietly insisting on being noticed. For a moment, you simply stood there staring at it, the thought forming in your mind that you would take it back with you, preserve it properly, and care for it once you returned.
Carefully, you reached into your compartment, fingers brushing against the small tools and glass bottle you had brought for collecting herbs, already planning how to take it without damaging the roots. You took one slow step forward, then another, your focus narrowing completely onto the flower as everything else faded behind it.
That was when the ground shifted.
At first, it was almost unnoticeable, like soft earth giving under pressure. Your foot pressed down, expecting stability, but instead it sank slightly deeper than it should have. Before you could even react, the soil beneath you gave way completely. The collapse was sudden and violent. The ground didnât just breakâit opened.
You dropped instantly, your body losing all support as the forest floor split apart beneath you. Roots tore loose above your head, dirt and stones spilling downward alongside you as gravity pulled you straight into the darkness below. Your arms moved on instinct, reaching out for anything to grab, but there was nothing but only air, falling soil, and the rushing sound of earth collapsing around you.
As you fell, you struck the sides of the opening more than once, your shoulder scraping hard against jagged dirt and stone, your body twisting mid-air as you tried to slow yourself down. The walls of the hole were uneven and rough, causing you to tumble rather than fall cleanly, each impact stealing breath from your lungs in short, sharp bursts. Your fingers clawed at the edges as you passed them, but there was no hold strong enough to stop your descent.
Then, abruptly, the fall ended.
You hit the ground with force, the impact driving through your body instantly. The breath left you in a broken gasp as pain flared through your side, but it was your head that struck something solid beneath youâa hidden rock or buried structure beneath the soil and the collision sent a sharp, violent shock through your skull.
The ringing came immediately, high and piercing, filling your ears until everything else vanished beneath it. Your vision blurred, breaking apart into unstable patches of light and darkness, the world above now only a distant, uneven glow far beyond the opening you fell through.
You tried to move, pushing your hands against the ground beneath you, but your arms responded slowly, weakly, as if the connection between thought and movement had begun to slip. Loose dirt shifted under your fingers, offering no stability, no help in lifting yourself up. Your body swayed as you attempted to rise, but the effort failed before it even properly began, forcing you back down against the cold, uneven ground.
Above you, the forest opening was now just a faint, distant circle of light, partially obscured as loose soil and debris continued to settle and fall inward, slowly narrowing your view of the world you had come from. The air down here felt wrong in a quiet wayâstill, heavy, and unnaturally contained, as if the space itself had been sealed away from the rest of the forest. No wind reached you. No sound of the river.
Only the fading echo of your own breath and the relentless ringing in your ears. You tried once more to steady yourself, but your strength gave out halfway through the motion, your body collapsing back against the ground as exhaustion and impact overwhelmed your senses. The edges of your vision darkened gradually, creeping inward like ink spreading through water, dulling the last traces of light above.
And then, slowly, without resistance you could fight, the darkness fully took over but not suddenly, but completely until there was nothing left but silence and stillness below the earth...
