Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!
Warnings: Swearing, arranged marriage, and a mention of misogyny
ao3 link next chapter>>
“My lady, we’re crossing the border into Enza. We should be arriving in an hour.” You nodded at your maid, indicating that you had heard her. You didn’t look away from the window.
“What do you think the prince will be like?” A younger maid gossiped quietly. The older maid shook her head at the inexperienced one, shushing her. “Sorry, ma’am,” the youngest maid whispered in your direction, head hung low. You think she’s named Elena. Your other maid who had been with you since you turned fourteen was a lovely woman named Sara. She knew not to interrupt your stupor.
Elena’s words dug at you, though. What was he like? The prince and you had only communicated through one letter. Your family had urged you to write to him, and so you did. You received a short letter in reply. There hadn’t been any communication since.
Your mother had told you the carriage ride would be short. She was wrong. It was too quiet, giving you time to dig up anxieties you had attempted to repress.
You were starting to feel guilt about your last days in Williams- the kingdom that your mother and father ruled. You had avoided your family during the final nights of your stay. You weren’t sure if it was out of contempt or not wanting to see your brothers and sisters pitying faces. You had stayed huddled in your room, watching stoically as Sara and Elena tried to get your opinion on what to pack.
At first, when your parents told you that for the prosperity of the kingdom, they were marrying you off to an obscure prince in Enza, you were angry. You had watched your older sisters get married off, one by one, each with varying results. One of your sisters gained a connection with their husband and fell in love. Another sister became sweet friends with their husband, and while there was no romantic love, there was a strong platonic relationship. Your last sister was married to a prick and rightly hated him. He was misogynist and had anger issues that bullied your sister into submission.
If you got nothing else, you were satisfied with being friends with the prince.
So your anger turned to sad acceptance. At least Enza was a beautiful place.
Your older brother had his choice of mistresses for his bride, in which all had been vetted to see if they were a proper fit to be Queen of Williams. Your youngest brother still had some years of freedom before your parents started pointing out the eligible ladies in court.
But the prince of Enza had no choice. While his older brother needed a suitable queen and therefore had his pick, the younger prince was just another pawn in the game of hierarchical chess. The kingdoms of Enza and Williams both had something to gain from the other and you and the prince were simply the bond of that compromise. Enza, being the bigger and stronger empire, would protect Williams in times of need, while Williams, being a small mining community, promised to supply Enza with gold and iron. Neither kingdom could stab the other in the back with their heirs married.
“There’s a house,” you spoke for the first time during the trip. “A couple kilometres away from Enza’s palace. We’re going to pass it soon. It’s not far from the border.” You took a breath, shaking with the realisation of your future. “I’m going to buy it. The prince isn’t in line for the throne, so I’m not required to live at the palace. It has five bedrooms with adjacent bathrooms. The kitchen is a small thing, but manageable. There’s a sweet little fireplace in the sitting room, which, with a little bit of rearrangement, can double as a dining room. But my favourite part,” you paused and pointed out the window. “Look, there it is.” The two maids stared out the window with you, all three of you taking in a large farmhouse in the distance. Compared to William’s palace, it was small, but any peasant would think it was an empire. The house was three stories and coloured a light baby blue. The windows were painted a bright white that stood out in contrast. There was a wrap-around porch that a small swing hung from. “You can’t see it,” you said, “but the best part is in the back. There’s this large field that leads to a forest.” The house was long gone, but you still gazed out the window hopefully. Sara and Elena exchanged a glance. “I’m hoping to employ a small staff. I’ll have to get a cook, of course, and maybe a cleaner. And then a stable master.”
“A stable master, my lady?” Sara wondered if she heard you right.
“Yes. Wouldn’t it be lovely to finally buy a horse or two? You know that mother never wanted me to ride, so I’ve only ridden a couple times. I would love to choose a name and develop a connection with a horse.”
“And what about the prince, ma’am?” Elena wondered.
You shrugged. “He can choose whatever he wants. After the wedding night, I’m not required to stay. Neither is he. If he wants to stay at the palace, he can. If he wants to visit me, I’ll allow it. And if he would like to try and live with me… we’ll see how it goes.” After a moment of thought, you said, “I think I’ll name the house the Foundling Villa.”
The countryside slowly changed to a small village and then a quaint market. You saw people milling about, carrying a carton of eggs, hauling water from the well, or dragging a cow through the street. Most people stopped and stared at seeing an aristocratic carriage prance through their streets. You pressed your body against the seat and stared straight ahead, knowing that it made it harder for people outside to see you. You didn’t want them to see you. You couldn't have them see you.
Elena peeked out the window and a little girl waved excitedly at her. Elena waved back. The girl clapped happily and tugged at her mother’s arm.
Slowly, the carriage turned to an inclined road and the palace came into view. Sara sucked in a breath and blinked owlishly at the sight before her. Elena muttered an, “Holy shit.” You frowned at it. It looked like it was overly compensating for something. It was a massive building built with large blocks of brick and stone that looked like it could house the entire population of Williams. The flag of Enza flew proudly from the spires. An impressive perron stood imposingly before you, laid with a red carpet. The King, Queen, and the three princes of Enza stood on the steps to welcome you.
The reality of it all finally crashed down on you. You were supposed to marry a man who you had only heard of through one letter. You had only seen him in portraits. You were expected to move to another kingdom, which you had never set foot in, and never return home unless accompanied by your new husband.
You shook your head widely and your hands clutched around the dress you’d chosen this early morning. “I can’t.” You stated, “Turn this around. I want to go home. Turn the carriage around.”
“My lady, you must go,” Elena pleaded. “They’re waiting.”
“No!” You cried, “I am not going to marry him! You can’t make me! I will not walk out there to my doom. Take me back to Williams.” You tried to sound stern, but emotion cracked through. Outside, you saw the youngest brother whisper something to your fiancé.
“Milady,” Sara tried her hand at calming you down. “Princess. Y/n!” You whipped around to look at her. “All you have to do,” Sara leaned forward and clasped your hands in hers. “Is go out there and bow to the King and Queen. That’s it. Then Elena and I will be with you the entire rest of the way. We’ll be by your side walking through the doors, finding your room, getting you prepared for dinner, and if you want, we could even take dinner in your room instead of with the family. But you must step out of the carriage.”
Your jaw clenched and reluctantly nodded. Sara smiled softly and then knocked on the wall. The footman jumped down and opened the door for you. You exhaled, your heart pounding like you just lost a sprint, took the footman’s hand, and stepped out.
And then you make eye contact with Charles Leclerc, Prince of Enza, and your future husband.
Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!
Warnings: smut 18+ minors dni (p in v, nudity, f receiving oral and fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex) and swearing
This chapter can be skipped if you’re uncomfortable- no major plot points other than the smut will take place. (That’s why it’s literally just the smut)
Okay, I know I just posted a couple hours ago, but I had ideas for this chapter and I just had to write it and here we are... Hope you guys like it! 😁 😅
ao3 link next chapter>>
Charles raised a brow. “Would you like to continue the wedding night?”
Your heart started beating a little quicker. “Lead the way.”
Charles scooped you up and carried you over the threshold of your room. You laughed loudly, hitting him lightly in the chest. “What?” he winked. ”I have to make up for what we missed.” You rolled your eyes, a fluttering erupting in your stomach.
Charles set you gently on the bed, pressing kisses down your collarbone. You pulled his face back towards yours, needing to feel his lips. Charles discarded his shirt, hissing at the cut along his arm. You stilled. “Are you sure we should be doing this? You’re hurt, Charles.”
He shook his head. “I wouldn’t stop this for all the riches in the land. It’s just a small graze. Nothing I can’t handle.”
Your hesitations were cut off with another kiss. Shrugging your robe off, you were desperate to get rid of the layers separating you and Charles. Already, you could feel heat spread along your body, circulating at the bottom of your stomach.
Your husband helped you take off your sleepwear and soon you lay to him bear, save your underwear. “Beautiful, cherié. Simply gorgeous,” Charles uttered, taking you in.
You ran your hands down his chest, feeling the muscles and curves that you had the sole pleasure of exploring. “I could say the same to you.”
“May I take care of you?” Charles whispered. You nodded in reply, not trusting your voice.
Charles’ mouth trailed down your body, mumbling worships and reverence. He paused at one of your breasts, glancing up at you before taking it in his mouth and swirling his tongue over the sensitive bud. You gasped as he pulled at it softly, the feeling of his teeth unexpected. He repeated the action with your other breast, putting as much care and love as he had the first.
More open-mouthed kisses trailed down your stomach stopping right above your underwear. “Y/n, are you sure? I need you to be positive you want this.”
“I want this, Charlie,” you insisted. “Honestly, your need for consent is making you more attractive.”
Charles chuckled, eyes darkening. “Call me that again.”
“What?” Your lips curved into a smile. “Charlie?” Charles groaned, hips jerking forward, desperate for friction. A spark ignited in your chest, now knowing the power you held over him. “Or… would you like me to call you… My Prince?”
“Cherié,” Charles warned, lifting an eyebrow. “Be careful. You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Show me.”
A moan filled the room, Charles’ head falling back. You admired the curve in his neck. “As you wish, my wife.”
His fingers curled around your underwear, tugging it off. You felt the cold air hit your bare skin and Charles murmured in appreciation, hands gracing over your hips.
“Please, Charles.”
“Anything you want, cherié.” Charles slowly swept a finger up between your folds. You whined, wanting more. “So wet for me, hm?” Charles muttered, “so ready for me.”
His finger smoothed a faint circle over your clit and you begged, “Please, Charles, please!”
“No, princess, that’s not my name.” Charles shook his head, growing hard at the sight underneath him.
“Fine,” you conceded. “Charlie, please touch me.”
“There we go.” Charles went and licked a stripe around your bundle of nerves, moving down to tease your hole. You gasped at the sudden contact, hips bucking because you needed more.
Charles continued to suck along your clit and you grabbed at his hair, tugging slightly. Charles let out a moan that vibrated along your folds and your breaths became shallower as you felt your heart rate pick up. Your walls clenched around nothing and you said, “Ch- Charlie, I think I’m almost there!”
You started to complain as Charles moved away from you, wanting the feeling of his mouth back. “Not yet,” he said. “I want you to come around me.” You realised what he meant when he started undoing his pants.
During your wedding night, you had been too embarrassed and shy to look Charles in the eye when he was handling his cock. But now, Charles lifted your chin up to meet his gaze. “Do you want me to continue?”
“Yes,” you licked your lips and Charles’ gaze was drawn to it. “But shouldn’t I return the pleasure?”
Charles’ chuckled. “Y/n, you don’t have to ‘return the favour’. Today is about you. And besides, if you truly want to, you can take charge next time.”
Next time. A promise. It made you smile.
You let out a desperate sound as Charles’ tip brushed your entrance. It didn’t hurt as much as last time, but adjusting to his size still stung a bit. He waited until your hips started rocking against his to match your pace. He could barely hold back a groan as he increased the speed. Using one hand to grip the headboard, Charles thrusted deeply into you, making you moan. You inhaled sharply when you felt his other hand glide down to your clit and start rubbing small circles onto the bundle of nerves. You cried out and your walls clenched around him.
“Shit, Y/n, I don’t know how much longer I can go if you keep doing that,” Charles sucked in a breath.
“Charlie, I think I’m about to come!” You felt the tight coil of pleasure in you build up, finally snapping, and you came around Charles. His breathing became irregular and his hips jerked back and forth. You could tell he was on the verge of joining you in ecstasy. You reached up and placed a kiss right under his ear, gently sucking on the tender spot. Charles shivered and let out a loud moan and with one last thrust, he filled you up.
Slowly, he pulled back from you, panting. Your chest rose and fell and you tried to calm your heart. Charles didn’t pull back immediately, instead, he rested his head upon your shoulder.
“I- I liked that a lot better than before,” you commented.
He let out a chuckle, dragging a finger along your jaw. “You’ll get to experience it whenever you want, cherié.”
Instead of agreeing, you simply said, “I love you.”
“And I love hearing you say that,” Charles kissed your cheek. “I love you too, my princess.”
Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!
Warnings: Argument, misogyny, a man being a putz and hitting on reader (he grabs her wrist), and protective!Charles (yes, that’s a warning)
ao3 link next chapter>>
Princess Leclerc,
I am, admittedly, surprised by your letter. It’s not often that a princess writes to me after I attend her brother-in-law’s coronation with tales of foreboding.
I’m happy that you call me a friend. It’s nice to know that I have confidante in this upscale ladder of hierarchy.
Concerning your words, I’m afraid I can’t say much more. My father would have my hide. Hopefully, he doesn’t find out that we’re conversing.
Enza and Redull have always had a rivalry. It started when Redull was an up- and- coming kingdom. Enza felt threatened, so the king sent troops to watch over our building and monarchy. The people of Redull didn’t look kindly on that, and if Enzan troops hadn’t been deployed, Redull’s territory could be much more expensive today. My kingdom has never forgiven yours. My father, especially, had a personal vendetta against Enza. I’m not sure I’m in a position to disclose why.
There is the past. I cannot tell you the future. All I can say is: tread carefully in the present.
Best wishes,
Prince Max Verstappen
P.S. pawn to f6
**
“King Stein, once again, I wish to express my immense gratitude for allowing me and my wife to stay with you.” Charles shook King Stein’s hand and bowed. It was a lovely day and the royals of both Enza and Haas stood on the steps of the Haas castle.
“It’s my pleasure!” King Stein grinned. “The kingdom of Haas is always welcome to Enzans. And my daughter loves having Princess Y/n as a playmate.” Charles glanced over to watch as you swooped up the princess of Haas in a large hug, whispering goodbyes and promises to come again. “But Prince Charles,” King Stein gripped the younger man closer. “Remember what we discussed. It’s vital to Formuline’s future. I recommend sending your quickest messenger to your brother to tell him what you learned.”
“Yes, of course. Once again, my deepest thanks.” Charles bowed once more before his eyes shifted back over to you. “Darling,” Charles ambled over to you and the young princess, setting a hand on your lower back. “We really should be going; King Verstappen is expecting us before nightfall.”
You sighed dramatically. “You’re right, unfortunately. I am so sorry, Princess.” You set the girl down, bopping her on the nose. “I must go now.”
The Princess of Haas groaned. “Noooo! Princess Y/n! We’re not done playing!”
“I know, dear,” you crouched down and pouted. “But I’ll visit soon, okay?”
“Okay…” the young girl huffed. “Do you think you could bring your baby next time?”
You frowned cautiously. “What baby?”
“Your and Prince Charles’ baby!” The girl exclaimed, “everybody has babies and I wanna see yours! I bet they're adorable!”
“We’ll get right on that,” Charles smirked, hand snaking to your waist and pinching your side. You slapped his hand away and bid goodbye to the monarchs of Haas.
The flirting between you and Charles had increased, and you weren’t sure why. It made you feel like a teenager again, daydreaming about the beautiful people you saw at court with your sisters. Your connection with Charles had grown ever since the night at Foundling Villa and the unfortunate death of King Hervé. Along with the connection, the butterflies in your stomach.
Charles took his place beside you in the carriage and opened up a small chest. “What are you doing?” You hummed, peering at the chest and resting your head on his shoulder.
“I need to write a letter to Lorenzo,” Charles explained. “King Stein said some very interesting things that shed some light on our current situation.”
“Like what?” You nuzzled into his side, feeling tired after your visit in Haas. Charles focused on the parchment, quill, and ink in front of him. He hoped to ignore the fluttering in his stomach and the pain in his chest.
He started composing his letter to Lorenzo, simultaneously telling you what he had learned. “Redull came to Haas asking for an alliance. Haas demanded to know why, but Redull refused. King Stein heard from King Hamilton that Redull also came to him. We’re nowhere close to knowing their plan, but it’s going to be big. Clearly, Redull doesn’t believe they can do it alone. As long as we keep allies away from them, it’ll buy us more time. I don’t want to believe my worries, but Redull may be looking for war. If they acquire the support of another large kingdom, or even a smaller kingdom such as Lauren or Aston, their army would amass overwhelming numbers that could easily cut down all of Formuline.”
When you didn’t respond with helpful insight or advice, Charles looked down at your sleeping figure. “Oh.” He blinked twice. Does this mean she trusts me now?
**
“Y/n, cherié,” Charles rubbed your back gently. “We’ve arrived in Redull.”
“What?” You mumbled, curling into him.
“You must awaken. We have to meet with King Verstappen.”
“Right, yes, alright.” You nodded sagely, and then promptly went back to sleep. Charles chuckled deeply. He continued to whisper sweet nothings into your ear and gently coax you awake until you were fully conscious. “I am so sorry,” you shook your head, embarrassed. “I guess the rocking of the carriage put me to sleep.”
“That’s quite alright, but we still have a meeting to attend to.” Charles knocked on the carriage interior and the door sprung open by a footman.
“Must I join you in the meeting?” you wondered.
Charles frowned. “I would prefer it. I’m not sure I trust the people of Redull. Especially the aristocrats. I would rather have you close by so I can see and tend to you.”
“Well, that’s very sweet, Charles, but I’m pretty sure I can handle my own.”
“If that’s what you want,” he conceded.
Stepping down from the carriage, you two were greeted by King Verstappen and his son, Prince Max. “Prince Leclerc! Princess Leclerc! What a pleasure to have you join us in Redull!” The two men were dressed to the nines in a way that made you suspect they were trying to upstage or intimidate you. Prince Max muttered something and his father shot him a glare, murmuring a harsh complaint back.
“King Verstappen, how chivalrous of you to invite us,” Charles said.
“Well, once I heard about your newlywed excursion around the continent, I simply had to. It didn’t seem right that you would pass through Formuline without visiting Redull. We are one of your closest allies.” The words had a thinly veiled threat hidden in it. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, after all.
“I can’t imagine how we skipped over Redull,” you spoke up, surprising the Redull monarch. “It pains me that I wouldn’t visit my good friend, Prince Verstappen.” The said man bowed lowly to you. “Oh, and Prince Verstappen,” you began. “King's pawn to e3.”
**
The throne room was bustling with people. You stuck to the edges of the room, priding yourself as a wallflower. You dreaded your decision of not following Charles to his meeting with King Verstappen. Instead of being with your husband, whom you knew, you were stuck in a room full of foreign strangers. Who knew if they were whispering behind your back, plotting the demise of Enza? Needles seemed to prick down your spine. You didn’t feel safe. You felt surrounded by wolves in sheep's clothing. Here in Redull, Charles was the only other sheep you could count on, certain he wasn’t wearing a disguise.
It didn’t help your discomfort that a man kept watching you over the rim of his glass.
This man, in military garb, had shaved blond hair and a lanky frame. His eyes, which bored into you, were a dark brown. You carefully watched as he set down his goblet and stalked over to you.
Immediately, you turned away. Your gown, which had just been cleaned after the long trip, swished around your feet. The simple tiara that Redull maids had woven into your hair felt heavy. Spying the doors- your exit- you hurried towards them.
“Do you know where Prince Charles is?” you asked one of the guards stationed nearby. Once he gave you directions, you set out down the corridor he instructed. A quick glance over your shoulder confirmed your fears; the military man was following you. An unnerving smirk flew onto his lips when you made eye contact. You turned away and your steps became faster. You knew that as long as you found Charles, this man would leave you alone. You wondered if you should’ve stayed in the throne room- at least people were there to witness anything. Guards had lined the room, capable of intervening. Cursing your impulsive thinking, you knew you were too far into the halls of Redull to turn back.
Unfortunately, the man caught up to you just as you rounded a corner. “Princess Y/n of Enza, correct?” His gravelly voice made your insides curl with disgust.
“Princess Leclerc, yes,” you corrected him, attempting to brush past. Just one more hallway and the room where Charles sat would be in your sights.
“I’m Duke Samuel Hasting. I also hold the title of a commander of King Verstappen’s cavalry.” He seemed to boast, yet his brag wasn’t as grand as he had hoped.
“Fascinating.” You wanted to roll your eyes. “I also hold the title of married.”
“Yet, where’s your husband?” Hasting looked even more disgusting as he lent into you.
“In a room right down the hall, actually. Would you like me to grab him for you?”
“No, no, that’s alright. I’m sure he doesn’t have to know everything that happens to you.” Hasting grabbed your wrist.
“I will scream,” you said lowly. It sounded more like a threat than a warning. “Let go of me this instant.”
“Oh, Princess, you don’t mean that.” It sounded like Hasting was trying to sound seductive, but he just sounded constipated.
“I do mean it,” you retorted. “Why would I say it otherwise? That’s stupid.” You wrenched out of his grip and stormed down the hall. Finally turning the corner, you saw Charles exiting the meeting room, shaking hands with advisors of Redull, looking pleased, yet reserved.
“Y/n!” Hasting called out sharply.
“Y/n?” Charles’ head turned towards you. You let out a sigh of relief. Seeing your expression, Charles’ brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” He stepped towards you, hand outstretched and you grasped it thankfully. “Y/n?” he asked again.
“Please, can we leave?” you asked.
“Yes, but why?” Charles’ eyes darted to Hasting, who stood at the end of the corridor.
“Princess Y/n was bothering me,” Hasting smoothly lied. “Making advances, and such. I thought you should know.”
“Is this true, cherié?” Charles glanced down at you.
You shook your head, a little hurt that he thought you would flirt with another man. “The opposite, actually. I was coming to get you when this… Duke grabbed me.”
“He touched you?” Charles’ words became dangerously low.
“He took hold of my wrist, Charles. It wasn’t that bad.”
“No, you’re wrong. He should never have touched you. What this Duke did was betray the trust of Enza by pursuing you.” Your husband shot a look at the Redull advisors, who shrunk from his stare.
“Charles, please, can we simply leave? I don’t feel comfortable here.” Admittedly, this new protective, even possessive, side of Charles sparked something within you.
“If that’s what you want.” Charles shot one last glare at Hasting. Hasting glowered back, pissed that you outed him. Charles placed a hand on your back and swept you towards the palace entrance.
As you and your husband passed Hasting, the latter man clapped a strong hand on your shoulder, jerked you backward, and snarled, “you bitch!” His hand drew back, as if to slap you, but Charles intervened.
It would best be described as a dance. Charles’ movements were fluid and languid. In one motion, Charles gently pushed you behind him, reared back, and punched the man. “That is my wife!” A primal instinct seemed to rush over him: an instinct to protect what he loved.
Blood poured out of Hasting’s broken nose and the skin at Charles’ knuckles split. Redull advisors were quick to pull Charles back, lest he do anything worse. You and Charles were ushered out of the Redull palace, hurried goodbyes from both you and Prince Max; you wanted one good tie to the kingdom.
Once you were in the carriage, tying one of your handkerchiefs around his hand, you whispered softly, “thank you, Charles.”
Charles’ eyes had gone from livid to loving. “I told you- I’d do anything for you.”
Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!
Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner
Warnings: critiquing (and rude) parents, alcohol, talk of horses from an author who knows nothing about them (and if you haven’t realised it yet, riding horses is supposed to be an analogy for racing)
Update: There should be around 17-ish chapters, but I’m also working on a fic for the brilliant and ingenious @bright-shiningstar (also a prince!charles x reader that may already be over 7k.... sorry not sorry) so they may come a little later than I would like
ao3 link next chapter>>
Two weeks went by quickly and you knew that the servants were surprised by you. When you ordered a paint job for a scandalous wallpapered room, they hadn’t thought that you would don an apron and help them. You weren’t the best at manual labour, but you tried, and soon your arms were covered in sticky paint, laughing as you tried to get it off. You spontaneously decided to hire a gardener and met a lovely man called Oscar. He was thrilled to construct the gardens of the Princess of Enza, and quickly got to work. Another man, Nico Hulkenberg, came galloping up one day dressed in the regalia of a knight, and told you that Prince Charles had sent him to make sure you stayed out of danger. You, albeit a little peeved that Prince Charles hadn’t conferred with you, allowed Nico to join Lando in a hut by the stables.
You spent many days with Lando and the horses, trying to learn as much as possible about the animals and the sport that sometimes accompanied them. Lando became a swift friend and you enjoyed his company. Not only was he extremely knowledgeable, but also funny and charming. He introduced you to two horses he had acquired from a breeder with the money you gave him. They were crudely called number sixteen and number fifty-five. He had yet to name them.
On your first day, you hesitantly climbed on number sixteen. You tried desperately to remember everything you learned from your few minutes on a horse, and luckily, it came back quickly. Lando was highly encouraging and very patient. Once you felt comfortable, he jumped on number fifty-five and joined you in the fields.
“How are you doing?” he asked, circling around to meet you.
“This is fantastic!” You smiled broadly. “But it’s a little hard to ride in a dress. I’m going to need to fashion some new garments. I may have to write to Este.”
“Whatever the princess wants,” Lando said. “Do you know what you’re going to name them?”
You hummed. “Not yet, but I’m sure the right names will come to me.”
“Milady!” You heard a shout from the house and looked back at it. Elena was waving furiously at you, trying to get your attention. “Your family is arriving!”
You swore under your breath and nudged sixteen into a swift trot. “Elena!” You tried to instruct her from your horse. “Pull out a red dress for me to wear and a white shawl. Have the household line up in front of the house. Nico should be at the doors. Make sure Oscar looks presentable and have Yuki find all of the alcohol. We’ll need it.” Elena nodded sharply and ran back into the house. “Lando,” you directed. “I want you to tend to the horses at the front of the stable. My family came a day early- we’re unprepared, but it can’t seem like that.”
You hopped off number sixteen and thrust the reins into Lando’s hands. “May I say, Princess,” Lando called out as you ran to the Villa. “You're handling this very well. You make a remarkable leader.”
“Thank you, Lando.” He could tell that you were sincere. It was exactly what you needed to hear.
Sara rushed you upstairs the moment you stepped in the door. “May I ask, Princess,” she wondered as she undid the laces to your plain, around-the-house gown. “Why red? I thought you wanted to hold onto Williams for as long as you could.”
“No, no, no,” you bundled your hair into an updo. “I don’t care about holding onto Williams- they did nothing for me. I’m simply trying to aggravate whomever I hate most of all. If I see my parents, I change to red for Enza. If I see Prince Charles, I change to blue for Williams.”
“And if you see both?” Sara couldn’t help but smile at your antics. It reminded her of when you were younger, always finding a new mess to get into with your siblings. You stepped into the red dress and Sara pulled it up and started clipping and tying it into perfection.
“Ah, but that won’t ever happen.” You wagged a finger at her. “They don’t care enough to visit me at the same time.”
“Ma’am, they’re here.” Elena popped her head in the doorway and Sara yanked on the corset of your dress once more before twisting the strings into a bow.
You nodded, straightened your back, and strode down the stairs and out the door. The servants were already lined up elegantly and you couldn’t find one thing that your mother would pick apart. Two carriages stood outside, one containing your family, and the other, their belongings. You inwardly cringed at the amount of possessions they brought with them.
“Y/n, darling!” Your mother swept down from the carriage and embraced you tightly. “How have you been? Have you been surviving? It’s a momentous task to run a household and I was so worried you couldn’t live up to it.”
Only three seconds in, and you already wanted to strangle her. If it were only your siblings, then their stay would’ve been joyful. Unfortunately, your parents had spontaneously invited themselves, filling you with annoyance and dread.
“The wedding was phenomenal,” your father appeared at your mother’s side. “And how is Prince Charles? I assume he wanted to stay back at the palace, as this quaint house is no place for royalty, but I hope the wedding night went well?”
“Why don’t you get settled in, hm?” You blatantly ignored their questions, not offering so much as a ‘hello’. Your mother tittered disapprovingly at your words, but sashayed in the house, looking for inconsequential details to criticise. Your father clapped a hand on your bare shoulder, making you jump. True to his word, Este had altered some of your dresses for warmer weather, but you were now regretting it. You pulled your shawl tighter around you.
“Y/n, I am so sorry.” Your sister’s voice made you turn around. Brenda looked terribly guilty as Robert helped her down. “I couldn’t find an excuse to stop them from coming.”
“We tried,” Ralph rolled his eyes. “We tried so hard. But they persisted. They were adamant about visiting you.”
“It’s alright,” you sighed. “I’m glad you three came along. It’ll be easier to diffuse the tension. How’s Cambria doing?” You asked Robert about his heavily pregnant wife. The doctor had confined her to bed, the reason why she wasn’t with him on this trip.
“She’s splendid.” Robert grinned happily. “We’re both very excited. I’m cutting my visit short, however, to get back to her. I’ll only stay three days.”
“Oh, that’s fine! Give her my love when you return,” you said. You were delighted to have a niece or nephew. It would give you an excuse to visit Williams more often.
“I feel so bad for Cambria and Robert.” Brenda shook her head and looped her arm through yours. “Mother’s been hounding them ever since she found out Cambria was with child. Ralph’s been lucky to escape her eye.”
“The only good thing about marriage,” you muttered. “Getting away from mother.”
Brenda made a noise of agreement. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”
Dinner was stressed. Your father and Robert sat at the head. Ralph had drawn the short straw and had to sit next to your mother. Your glass of wine had been refilled three times. Awkward conversation had been sprinkled throughout, ranging from politics to talk of your recent marriage, though you wondered if they weren’t the same thing. Your father had delightedly bragged about the new finances and influx of immigrants that had been brought to Williams because of the new, prosperous relationship with Enza. You had ordered another round of drinks after that.
Mercifully, Elena tapped on your shoulder, whispering, “Milady, may I talk to you? Something has come up.”
You eagerly pushed away from the table and followed her to the foyer. “Please tell me this will take longer than fifteen minutes. I need a break from them. Don’t get me wrong, Elena, I love my family, especially my brothers and sisters, but sometimes my parents can be a bit much. I bought the Foundling Villa to escape everything, but people just keep showing up.”
Elena grimaced and said, “On that note, Princess, uh, another visitor has arrived.”
You pressed your fingers to your temples to try and stop the oncoming headache. “I will pay you double for the next year if you get them to go away. I don’t care who they are; I cannot stand someone else here.”
“Yes, well, ma’am,” Elena stuttered through her words. “I’m not sure I can do that to your husband, who, if you’ve forgotten, is the prince of Enza.”
Cursing, you threw open the door to see Prince Charles stepped down from a royal carriage bedecked in Enzan colours. He straightened his mantle, ran a hand through his hair, and then locked eyes with you. Prince Charles smiled sheepishly and shrugged, as if to say, Sorry, but I wanted to come see you.
“Elena.” You turned back to the frightened maid. “Please tell Sara to pick out a purple dress. I’m trying to displease many people tonight.”
Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!
Warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of war
ao3 link next chapter>>
Charles didn’t want to leave the palace. Leaving the palace meant seeing Princess Y/n. Leaving the palace meant getting married. Leaving the palace meant throwing away his freedom.
“Charles, let’s go,” Lorenzo beckoned his younger brother. “Don’t throw a tantrum like a child.”
“I thought I would be able to choose,” Charles insisted for the umpteenth time.
Queen Pascale sighed. “We had always known it was a possibility. Williams is a fine kingdom and Princess Y/n is a wonderful girl.”
“We don’t need Williams,” Charles protested. “And you’ve never met Princess Y/n.”
“They have excellent resources,” Lorenzo explained. “It will be a much needed boost to the economy. With Redull suspiciously on our borders it would be beneficial to remain strong. Also, since when do you care about marriage? Other than a few flings here and there, you’ve shown no interest to anyone in court. What could you possibly be throwing away?”
Charles grumbled, refusing to let Lorenzo’s excellent argument get to him. “It’s not about if I have a girl, it’s about my freedom.”
Arthur snickered. “You think you won’t have any freedom? Whenever you want you can get out of here. Go on a trip to Aston or Alpine. Y/n can’t stop you.”
“Y/n?” Charles scoffed at the informalities. “Are you best friends?!”
“She’s my future sister-in-law,” Arthur pointed out. “I’m not going to call a family member by their title.”
“She’s hardly family,” Charles frowned. He wanted to cross his arms like a child.
Pascale hit him on the arm. “Charles Marc! Do not talk that way about your future bride!”
“You’re wrong.” Charles continued to rant, “everyone talks about how when you get married, you’re tied down. You have to run everything by your spouse. You can’t just wake up and decide to spend all day shooting ducks. You need to tell her about it and then she may refuse you to do it.”
“Charles, I’m sure she’s feeling the same way.” Pascale tried to talk some sense into her middle child. “She probably has hobbies she enjoys and is worried you’ll forbid her from continuing them. If you allow her to continue her endeavours, she’ll probably let you do yours. I had the same anxiety when I married your father,” she placed a loving hand on King Hervé’s arm. “But then I realised that he was a loving and kind man. I got very lucky, and if you do not make Princess Y/n feel the same way, I swear, Charles, I will skin you.” Charles flinched backwards and Arthur laughed loudly.
“Have you done it yet?” Lorenzo asked abruptly.
“Lorenzo!” Queen Pascale cried, “What is with you boys today?!”
“We’ll talk later,” Lorenzo made sure Charles agreed. “You too,” he said to Arthur. “Both of you need to know what you’re doing.”
Charles almost gagged. Arthur grimaced.
“Your Majesties,” a knight announced. “Princess Y/n of Williams has entered the palace gates.”
“Oh my!” Queen Pascale exclaimed, “Everyone outside! Let’s go! Aren’t you excited? Look your best.”
“Hey, Charles,” Arthur took him by the arm and held him back as the rest of the Leclercs walked outside. “Don’t screw this up.”
“Inspiring words,” Charles rolled his eyes.
“I mean it,” Arthur grabbed his brother’s arm. “Papa was conversing with Jules the other day. I overheard them talking about the prospect of war.”
“War?” Charles stared at his brother. “Arthur, are you sure your mind isn’t playing tricks on you?”
Before Arthur could answer, the knight stepped back inside. “Your Highnesses, Queen Pascale is demanding your presence.” Charles shot Arthur a glance, but walked out the door. Arthur shook his head and followed.
The two younger Leclerc brothers barely made it to their places before your carriage pulled up. However, you didn’t get out. Blurry shapes in the carriage danced around and Arthur whispered to Charles, “looks like she’s nervous too.”
A footman soon jumped down and sprung open the door. You grasped the footman’s hand and stepped down, your gown swishing around your ankles as you steadied yourself. Charles blinked once, an eyebrow quickly lifting before steadying his expression. His mother was right; you were beautiful. That hardly meant anything, though. Many girls in the court were attractive but were vain and only looked at him and his brothers as pocketbooks. When he saw you, however, all past concerns went out the window. You looked much more demure than he thought; much more fearful than he wanted you to be. You didn’t seem like the type of person to take control of his life. In fact, Charles felt an odd need to protect you. Your anxiousness worried him and he didn’t want you to feel scared in your new home.
Awkwardly, you slowly faced the royal family. Charles made quick eye contact with you. His muscles contracted, keeping him in the rightful place with shoulders back, chin tilted slightly upward, hands clasped firmly before him, and feet shoulder-width apart.
“God, be a statue, why don’t you?” Arthur muttered.
You, on the other hand, bowed your head in silent greeting, fingers fiddling with your dress. One of your maids said something into your ear and you nodded, glancing back at her, eyelashes brushing your cheeks. You murmured something back and the footman readily moved to the back of the carriage and began unloading. Charles noticed how you peeked up at the sky, seeming surprised at the sun high in the clouds. He remembered Williams had a much colder climate than Enza did and wondered if you were regretting your choice at a long-sleeve dress. Taking a deep breath, you paced forward to stand before the King and Queen.
“Your Majesties of Enza,” you curtsied, keeping your voice low and clam. “Thank you for housing me. My mother and father, King and Queen of Williams, send their regards and best wishes. It’s an honour to be here.”
“Princess Y/n,” King Hervé said. “It’s a pleasure to have you join us in Enza. We welcome you and any of your guests with a warm heart. We hope you’ll be happy and comfortable here.”
“Thank you,” you gestured to your maids. “This is Elena and Sara, my handmaidens. I hope they can accompany me during my stay.”
“Of course,” Queen Pascale spoke up. “Any friend of yours is a friend of ours. Will you be joining us for dinner?”
You tried to conceal a grimace. “Unfortunately, I’m feeling awfully tired after my trip. I’m sorry to disappoint, but the ride was incredibly long. I hope you don’t mind if I lay down?”
Queen Pascale looked worried. “Whatever you need, dear. We can send up some food, if you like?”
“That would be wonderful, thank you.”
“In the morning, Prince Charles could introduce you to the palace and show you around.” It didn’t sound like a request, though you knew Queen Pascale was just trying to instigate a relationship between you and Prince Charles.
“I would love to accompany him.” Admittedly, you wanted to get to know Prince Charles. If you were to marry him, you thought you should at least know the bare minimum. It would look bad if you didn’t know your husband’s favourite food.
King Hervé said, “Prince Charles can show you to your room if you would like to get settled in.”
“That would be excellent, thank you.”
Prince Charles offered his arm to you. The rest of the Leclercs sneaked inside, leaving the two of you alone. Elena and Sara dropped back, offering some space.
Charles noticed your sky blue dress as the colours of Williams. He felt bad that your wedding dress was to be light red. Although, his pocket square and tie were to be blue, the same colour of your dress you now wore. It was supposed to be symbolic of the joining of unions and the intertwining of kingdoms. However, it was clear that you weren’t ready to let go of your kingdom.
You slowly accepted his arm. Charles felt a pain in his chest. He didn’t want you to be frightened of him, even though he was against the marriage as well.
If you got nothing else, he was satisfied with being friends with you.
“I know you may not ever love me,” he started talking, leading you inside and up a flight of stairs. “And I’m fine with that. This doesn’t need to be a romantic marriage. However, I would like to be on good terms with you. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to.”
You were suspicious. “I would thank you for that,” you said cautiously.
“I understand you’ll need some time to trust me.” Prince Charles seemed thoughtful, a quality you were grateful for. He didn’t seem like a controlling man. Maybe if you both agreed to stay out of the others’ way, this marriage wouldn’t turn out as bad as you thought.
“I know neither of us want this,” you admitted. “But you’re right; we could be cordial to one another.”
“I would be accepting of that,” Prince Charles nodded.
Prince Charles stopped in front of a large door.”This is you. If you want, your maids could be placed in a room close to you.”
“I would like that, thank you.”
“I’m supposed to tell you that a week from now, we’ll finalise plans for the wedding. The actual marriage is to take place in a month. Your parents are aware, but if you would like to invite anyone else, I would suggest writing to them now.” Charles monologued the script he was expected to tell you.
“Understandable,” you said. “I hope you sleep well tonight.”
It was simply formalities, but Charles replied kindly, “Thank you. You as well.”
You gave the prince a half-smile as you stepped into your new room. Your maids scurried in after you. Charles decided he liked your smile. He wanted to see it more often, as good friends would.
Being forced to marry you wasn’t the worst that could happen. After all, at least you didn’t hate him.
Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!
Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner @saturnsrinqs @livster
Warnings: death, funeral
ao3 link next chapter>>
King Hervé’s funeral was elegant. That much you could say. Whether it was what he would’ve wanted, you didn’t know. Even though you didn’t know King Hervé well, from the few encounters you had, he had seemed like a compassionate and gentle man.
Before your wedding, you had read up on the history of Enza, and found that King Hervé had been the one to push Enza into modern times. The economy had grown, the people had prospered, and his family was happy. Suffice to say, the kingdom of Enza had taken a blow with his death.
Even if you didn’t know the person who died, it was still depressing to be around the people who did. The air of death was prominent and it pulled you down with it. You and Charles had returned to Enza’s palace and Charles quickly found his place within the arms of his mother. You were left to float around the palace, unsure of what to do. You were only Enzan by marriage and Charles only a royal spare, so you didn’t need to be involved in the lengthy meetings that were happening around the clock. Maybe if Charles was first in line you would be pulled in, but alas, you were left alone.
King Hervé’s passing had brought other monarchs to Enza to express their sorrow, pay tribute at the funeral, and pledge their allegiance to the new King, Lorenzo. Because of the influx of wealthy people, the rooms of Enza were quickly filled up. You and Charles agreed to share a room so more people could come to mourn his father.
Queen Pascale didn’t tell you that there were more than enough rooms for you and your husband to sleep separately.
You didn’t remember the funeral; it was more like a grey cloud in your mind. What you remembered was Charles standing next to you, head bowed and eyes full of tears. You remembered Queen Pascale’s black dress and veil and the flowers surrounding the casket. But the priest's words were lost on you. You mumbled the prayers in a resounding mass with everyone else, but you didn’t comprehend the words. Later, you felt guilty, as if you personally offended King Hervé by not embracing the prayers. But you knew that his family had likely done the same. You would look over to see Charles as a still statue, eyes fixated on the casket as if he could raise his father from the dead just by wishing hard enough.
Once the funeral ended, it was as if a switch had been flipped. Enza needed a king, and fast. Coronation plans were thrust before Lorenzo and you felt bad for the poor boy. The only reminder of King Hervé’s death was Queen Pascale, wandering the halls in her mourning clothes.
One night, after chatting with Este, you went back to yours and Charles’ shared room. You were surprised to find it pitch black. The curtains, which usually allowed in an inkling of light, were tied tightly shut. The fireplace embers had long since died and you couldn’t help but wonder if they died the same time King Hervé did.
You shuffled towards the windows, intent on opening the curtains. Your eyes hadn’t adjusted yet and you were worried about knocking something over. Just as you reached the window, movement caught your eye.
Charles was wrapped around himself in bed, a mountain of blankets crushing him. It dawned on you that this was his doing; he was the one to shut the curtains and kill the fire. His father’s death was finally catching up to him.
You weren’t sure if you should intervene, but you couldn’t leave him there with his thoughts. Loneliness would only make it worse. "Charles? Can you talk to me? You shouldn't be alone."
The room was dark with the overhang of death in the air. "He can't be gone," you heard Charles mutter. "How can the world keep turning without him?"
"Because there's still more to live for." You sat on the bed and the lump of blankets shifted. Finally, your eyes adjusted to the darkness and you could see Charles gazing up at you, tears blurring his eyes.
"Y/n, I can't." Charles tried to plead with you. The sharp, unbelieving pain had subsided into a deep ache in his gut. It was like sadness consumed him, forcing him to wallow in it forever. The reality that someone could leave you forever had not set in yet. How did people cope? How did people grieve? How could someone go on living while someone else is dead?
"Charles, may I give you a word of advice?"
"Please do. Anything." Charles curled into himself even more, if that was possible.
"A famous poet once said, ‘Not a whit, we defy augury. There is a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come. The readiness is all. Since no man of aught he leaves knows, what is 't to leave betimes? Let be.’” You shifted so you were against the headboard, legs outstretched. Charles lay next to you. He twisted to face you.
“I’m not ready to let be,” he whispered.
“That’s okay.” The majority of you screamed not to, but the tiny side prevailed. You let a hand drift down to his hair and started combing through it, drawing circles on his temples and cheeks.
Charles closed his eyes. “I like it when you call me Charles,” he said.
You exhaled a laugh. “You told me.”
“I just thought I should remind you.”
“Thank you for doing so.”
Charles let himself relax into the bed and your touch. The two of you stayed there for a long time. You felt content, yet terrified. You thought, this shouldn’t feel like home.
**
As a direct opposite to the King’s funeral, Lorenzo’s coronation was a swirl of colours, laughter, and dancing. True to tradition, all the Leclerc brothers wore a dash of black for their deceased father and Queen Pascale still donned her black gown and robe, but you would’ve thought that the party was one of the liveliest had it not been for those factors.
Your own dress fell elegantly to the floor and Este had brushed aside customs to place you in a deep green gown. Este had said, “so many people in Enzan colours. Ah, you have to stand out!” He had then placed a silver tiara on your head, woven into your hair to insure it didn’t fall.
The feast afterwards, even though it was held in a grand hall, felt suffocating. Dignitaries and royals from all the kingdoms in Formuline joined you that evening. Your own parents stayed far away from you, and for that you were thankful. Charles made sure to always have an eye on you in case anything was to arise.
As the evening was winding down, you found yourself in the company of a knight, Daniel. He made you laugh like no other and even introduced you to other lords and advisors you recognised as Charles’ confidants.
“Princess Leclerc?” An accented voice came from behind you and your insides fluttered at your new surname. You twirled around, expecting to find another friend of Charles’. Instead, your smile faltered when Prince Verstappen came into your view.
“Prince Verstappen.” You lowered your head in an informal bow. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I was wondering if the princess would grace me with a dance?” He held a hand out and the aristocrats around you fell silent. Lord Carlos slipped away to find Charles.
“It would be rude to say no.” You placed your hand in his.
The dance was awkward at first. You were acutely aware of the eyes on you, including the protective ones of Charles who had quickly located you after Lord Carlos whispered the situation to him. Charles couldn’t simply break up the dance- it would be considered militant and pugnacious. He would have to be content to wait and swoop in the moment the dance ended.
“Princess Y/n, I’m sure you’ve guessed that I have an ulterior motive for dancing with you,” Prince Verstappen said. His eyes carefully scanned the room, never once looking down at you.
“Yes, and I would like to know what it is.” Your reply was curt.
“Williams was a close ally to Redull until recent circumstances. My father was always fond of yours, and in turn, I was of you and your siblings. Don’t take this harshly, Princess, but I would… suggest that you take a trip to Aston or Alpine- somewhere far away from Redull and Enza. I encourage you to tell all whom you love to do the same.”
“Prince Verstappen, I’m sorry to say, but I don’t understand.” You shook your head. You wanted to step back and off of the dance floor, but you felt like you had an obligation to hear him out. His words were confusing and worrisome.
“I’m not even supposed to be here,” Prince Verstappen continued. “My father didn’t want anyone from Redull to attend the coronation, much less the pledging.” He was referring to when the other kingdoms pledged allegiance to the new King Lorenzo.
“Oh?”
“But a total surprise isn’t fair to you, nor Enza’s people. You’ll do the best you can to stay out of the cross-fire, yes?” Prince Verstappen glanced down at you. His eyes were stern. At some point in his life, they probably held happiness and hope, but those times had long passed.
Before you could reply, the music swelled to an end and Charles strode towards you. Your husband placed a hand on your lower back and glowered at Prince Verstappen. “Are you alright, Y/n?” he murmured in your ear. You nodded and turned into him. Prince Verstappen bowed and excused himself. You peered after him.
There was something he wasn’t telling you, and it didn’t sound good.
Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!
Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner @saturnsrinqs @livster @chonkybonky @eau-rougee @champomiel @justyouraverageeverydaysimp (wow, there’s a lot of you)
Warnings: argument? short chapter... so sorry you guys!!!
ao3 link next chapter>>
“Charles, I know what I’m asking is a lot, but this needs to be done. Right now, I’m not asking as your brother, but as your king.” Lorenzo looked tired, and Charles felt sorry for him, but what he was telling him to do was crossing a line.
“Lorenzo, I am not spending weeks in a potentially hostile environment with my wife,” Charles insisted. They had been arguing for over an hour now, ever since Lorenzo proposed his idea. Since the coronation, Lorenzo had been doing everything in his power to gain support for his reign. He had used Charles and Arthur as placeholders in meetings while he went to villages and markets around Enza, drumming up supporters and fondness. But as of now, Lorenzo was worried about foreign affairs.
You had relayed to Charles what Prince Verstappen had hinted at during Lorenzo’s coronation. Charles had, in turn, told Lorenzo, who spiralled into worrying that a war would break out during his first year as King. Once Queen Pascale calmed her eldest down, the brothers and their advisors had convened a meeting to discuss what the next steps should be. Charles had gently suggested that you avoid the meeting. He didn’t want you to overhear his shouts.
“You don’t even have to go to Redull,” Lorenzo compromised. “Just to their allies or neighbours. If you can coax information out of them, it would be incredibly helpful and necessary for the future of Enza.”
“Lorenzo, must I repeat myself? I am not travelling across the continent with my newlywed wife to adversarial kingdoms!” Charles found the title of ‘husband and wife’ sliding much more easily on this tongue.
“I am your King, ordering you on this assignment, and don’t think I won’t exile you for disrespecting your superiors!” Lorenzo’s roars reverberated through the room, and surely out into the hallway. Charles flinched back. Lorenzo slumped down into his chair.
“I’ll do it,” Charles agreed quietly. “Lorenzo, I-”
“Don’t you dare,” Lorenzo held up a hand to silence him. “Just… go.”
Meanwhile, you sat in your and Charles’ shared room, penning a letter.
Prince Verstappen,
I hope this letter finds you in good health. It’ll be unusual for you to hear from me, but I hope you’re not too surprised. I've lost sleep over your words at Lorenzo’s coronation and I’m writing so you could wipe away the worries.
I’m unable to do anything to protect the ones I love if I don’t know what I’m protecting them from. I’m sure you can see my predicament. I’m aware you won’t divulge your kingdom’s secrets, nor am I asking you to, but a little more information would be beneficial.
This may seem like a ploy to compromise your plans, but rest assured, it’s not. I want to avoid conflict and altercation in any way possible, and if writing a simple letter is enough to do so, then I will gladly write a thousand.
I beg that you come to your senses to help a friend in need. You won’t simply be helping me, but thousands of innocents. I’m sure you don’t want that bloody smear on Redull history.
I eagerly await your response,
Princess Y/n Leclerc of Enza
You slowly set your quill down and stared at the words you had composed. Would it be enough? What could Redull be concocting? Your unstable alliance with Prince Verstappen could prove to be essential, and you needed to play it well. You felt as if you were playing chess against an opponent, but you couldn’t see how they were moving their pieces. You were playing in the dark.
In a state of convoluted amusement, you added a postscript to your letter: By any chance, do you play chess? If so, Queen’s pawn to d4.
Feeling much more weary than you should have, you flagged down a servant in the hallway and gave them the letter.
“What’s that?” You quickly turned around to see Charles smiling sheepishly at you. He still felt bad about his argument with Lorenzo. “Are you writing to your parents?”
You let out a laugh. “God, no. Actually… it’s to Prince Verstappen. I thought that because he reached out to me in the beginning, he would be more prone to talking to me again.”
Charles let out a sign. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, but thank you for trying. How would you feel about going behind Prince Verstappen’s back to deduce what they’re planning?”
“Charles, what do you mean? If we misuse their limited trust, then it could make things so much worse.”
“Y/n, I’m aware of the possible repercussions. It’s the reason why I’m against it.” No other reason. None at all that had to do with you. “But I would rather sacrifice our alliance with Redull than the people of Enza. I’m getting orders from Lorenzo. I can’t disobey him. But I need you to come with me. Please.” He took a step towards you.
“You didn’t need to ask,” you said. “I would follow you anywhere.”
“And I you.”
**
“Be safe, dear.” Queen Pascale kissed you on both cheeks. “It’s a cruel world out there. My mother always said, be nicer than the cruel world, or be crueller. I trust you to make the right decision. She was quite the woman.”
“Of course, my Queen.” You curtsied quickly, smiling at the Queen mother’s words. You and Queen Pascale had created a quiet bond during your time in Enza. “And you as well.”
Charles was busy talking with his brothers, but once you stepped towards the waiting carriage, he quickly left them to help you.
“Good luck,” Arthur called. You waved in return. You shifted over so Charles could squeeze in next to you, even though the seat opposite was wide open. Your hand immediately gripped his, intertwining your fingers. You justified it by wanting some solace.
Queen Pascale, having seen this, leaned over to her youngest and whispered, “See? And he said he didn’t care about this girl.”
Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!
Warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of misogyny, swearing
ao3 link next chapter>>
You woke to a loud knocking on the door. What the hell? you thought. Sara and Elena usually gave a soft knock before coming in to gently wake you. Who was making such a racket?
“Y/n! Future princess of Enzaaaaaaa! Wake the fuck up!” You bolted upright, recognising the voice.
“Brenda!” you shrieked. The door banged open and your sister appeared. Two of your brothers walked in behind her. Sara and Elena rushed past them.
“My Lady, we are so sorry!” Sara apologised.
“Never apologise for my sister!” You hugged Brenda tightly. “Otherwise you would be apologising forever.”
“Shush!” Brenda laughed loudly. “I missed you so much!”
“How’ve you been, Y/n?” Your oldest brother, Robert, pulled you in for a hug. He ruffled your hair and said, “put on some clothes, why don’t you?”
“God, I hate you.” Sara handed you a robe and you threw it on. “I’ve been… dealing. It’s been fine.”
“Come here,” your younger brother, Ralph, consoled you. “You were always terrible at hiding emotions. Really, how are you?”
At those words, you broke down crying. “I miss you so much!” Robert and Brenda joined in the sibling hug and held you as you sniffled.
“Sweetie,” Brenda cooed. “It’s okay. I promise you’ll feel better soon. And no crying while we’re here.”
“How are Marie and Kaitlyn?” You asked about your other sisters.
“I last wrote them a month ago,” Brenda said. “They seemed great! Marie held a ball a while ago.”
Is this what your life would be reduced to? Holding occasional balls and writing to family members every other month? Your future never seemed more boring.
“What are you doing here?” you asked, though you didn’t want to tempt the fates.
“Do you honestly think Brenda would let us miss your wedding?” Robert asked, chuckling.
“Right,” you sighed. “That’s tomorrow. But where are mother and father?”
Ralph rolled his eyes. “Completing boring royal procedures. They’ll come by tonight or tomorrow. Meanwhile, we got to see our sister!”
“And where’s the future husband?” Brenda asked in a teasing tone.
As if I’m cue, a knock sounded on the open door. “Excuse me?” You whipped around to find Prince Charles grinning timidly.
“Prince Charles,” your brothers bowed.
Brenda giggled and said, “hello future brother-in-law! We shouldn’t need to bow to you, should we? It’s nice to meet you!”
“No, you don’t need to bow.” Charles laughed with Brenda, adjusting to her vigor. He shook her hand. “You’re Brenda, correct?”
“Yes! I hope Y/n hasn’t bad-mouthed me too much. This is Robert and Ralph.” Charles shook hands with your brothers.
“Nice to meet you,” Charles greeted politely. “I’m glad that you’re visiting us.”
“We couldn’t miss Y/n’s wedding.” Ralph said, “she’s done so much for us over the years.”
“And we couldn’t pass up the free food!” Brenda joked.
“You and my brother Arthur would get along fabulously,” Charles stated to your sister.
“Unfortunately, I’m a happily married woman,” Brenda said. “But I wouldn’t mind having a new best friend. Ever since this one ditched me,” she pointed at you. “I’ve been so lonely.”
“I only got your letter yesterday!” You defended, “you have to expect communication to take longer.”
While you and your sister bickered, Charles said to your brothers, “she’s a completely different person. Usually, Princess Y/n is apprehensive and timid. She doesn’t speak at all; when she does, it’s very quiet.”
“Y/n? Timid? Quiet?” Ralph laughed. “Wait until she opens up. That’s not the Y/n we know and love.”
“Have you thought about getting her away from the palace?” Robert suggested. “When we were growing up, she didn’t love being around the court. She used to complain about it being uptight and superficial. And yes, as a seven year old, she used the word ‘superficial’. Bizarre, isn’t it? Yet, when we would visit our grandmother’s estate in the country, she would open up. Become more lively and active. She loved the barn, though our mother always worried she would scrape her knee or muddy her dress.”
“Didn’t she name all of the newborn piglets?” Ralph asked. “There was Poe, Garth, Bean, Tassel, and… oh, what was the other one?”
“Corn,” Robert recalled.
“That was it!” Ralph clapped his hands. “I knew I was forgetting one.”
Charles was enamoured by your brothers’ stories. The tales they told sounded implausible. It was unbelievable to hear all of the mischief you had gotten into when you were young. Charles made it his mission to make you feel comfortable enough to open up. He wanted to get to know you- not the one who was shielding away from him. It wouldn’t be a true marriage if the bride was a shell of herself, right?
“Tell me more,” Charles prompted Ralph and Robert. “What other adventures did Princess Y/n get into as a child?”
*
“Don’t be scared, sweetie,” Brenda pulled at a strand of your hair. “Everything is okay. Take a deep breath.”
“Where’s mama?” you asked.
Brenda opened her mouth, took a moment, and said, “she’s waiting in the church.”
You nodded slowly. Apparently, your mother and father were more concerned with meeting new allies than their daughter on her wedding day.
“Princess Y/n?” A knock sounded on the door and you vaguely recognized Queen Pascale’s voice. “May I come in?”
“Yes, your Majesty.” You had only seen your sister bow to her husband, so you were shocked when she did it to the queen of Enza.
“You don’t have to do that,” Pascale smiled and reached out to lift Brenda into a standing position. “Princesses, how are you?”
“I’m splendid. Are you splendid? I am perfectly splendid!” You worried you had said the word ‘splendid’ too much.
You couldn’t stop running your hands over your dress. The fabric felt odd against your sweaty hands. “Do you know what else is today? It’s the reception, where I have to talk to dignitaries and monarchs who I can’t remember the names of. And then there’s the dinner and the dance- Oh, Brenda! What if I forget the dance?! And after I forget the dance and mess up in front of everyone, then it’s the…” You swallowed and looked around for a glass of water. Or better yet, wine.
“The wedding night?” Brenda guessed. You nodded.
“Your Highness, I am so sorry,” you said to Pascale. “I’m trying to be composed, but it’s proving very difficult. Your son seems incredibly thoughtful and considerate, but can you understand why I’m frightened?”
“Yes. I understand perfectly. It can be nerve wracking going into a marriage and not having connected with them.” Queen Pascale sat down on a sofa.
Brenda added on, “and don’t worry about tonight. I’m sure Prince Charles will take care of you.” She grimaced awkwardly at the Queen, feeling uncomfortable talking about Pascale’s son right in front of her.
Pascale snickered in a very un-queen-like way. “Dear, I don’t care what you say about my son. I’ve changed his dirty diapers. I’ve seen it all.”
You smiled, wanting to laugh at her words. A sense of longing suddenly washed over you, a small part of you wanting it to be your own mother who was comforting you.
Nonetheless, you were still grateful for Queen Pascale’s words. You wondered if she would be open to visiting you at the Foundling Villa. You had already told your siblings all about it, and Brenda was scheduled to visit you two weeks from now.
Speaking of the Foundling Villa, you had Sara and Elena visit it two days ago. They had met with the housekeeper and her small staff. With the housekeeper’s suggestions, they had vetted and hired a stable master- someone by the name Lando Norris- and a cook that went by Chef Yuki. You had asked Sara and Elena to start packing during the wedding so the moment the sun came up tomorrow, you could leave.
“Are you ready?” Brenda asked.
“Do you want the truth?” you replied.
Queen Pascale shook her head. “Never tell them the truth. Only tell them what they want to know.”
Robert appeared at the door. “It’s time.” He sucked in a breath, wondering if it was better to feel excited for you, or nervous. He wasn’t naïve. He wanted to talk to Prince Charles about not messing with his younger sister, but he also knew that Enza was a much more powerful state than Williams. Robert couldn’t threaten their prince, even if he was trying to protect you.
As Robert walked you to the church entrance, you whispered, “I’m glad you’re the one walking me down the aisle.”
“As am I,” Robert admitted. “Father would be too uptight.”
You sunk into his side. “I missed you so much. You’ll come visit?”
“Yes! I want to see the Foundling Villa.” The doors opened to a room filled with nobles. They all stood to stare at you. An organ started. There were so many people. “Ralph might visit with me,” Robert kept talking, even though you were currently marching towards Prince Charles and a priest that was ready to seal your future. A long, inconvenient veil fell from your head and two little girls were holding up the ends. “Okay, wow, that’s an impressive grip!” Robert chuckled nervously, wanting to remove your hand from his arm. “Right now, I am going to keep talking so you can listen to my voice and have something to ground yourself on. You look beautiful today. Sara did a wonderful job on your hair. Look, there’s Brenda and mother and father,” his voice slipped away. The only sound you could focus on was your quickening heartbeat. “Breathe,” Robert gave you one last instruction before placing your hand in Prince Charles’s. You registered his outfit- the royal mantle Este had commissioned for him. He looked good. His hair was slicked away from his green eyes which kicked onto yours.
Prince Charles took your hand and turned to face the priest. The organ came to the end of its song and the girls behind you set down your veil.
Internally, Charles was freaking out. Yes, you were beautiful and he wanted to cultivate a relationship with you, but that didn’t mean he wanted to marry you! Lorenzo had motioned to him multiple times to loosen up. Before the wedding, Arthur had reminded him to stop clenching his jaw and hands. King Hervé gently told Charles to smile at you.
He didn’t remember any of their advice.
The priest started talking, “dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of these two unions.”
Charles remembered seeing your mother and father before the wedding. They had been conversing with the monarchs of Redull before the rulers of Wolff swept them away to talk. The priest, who was still talking, had been implanted in Charles’ memories since the beginning. The priest had been the one to baptise all of the Leclerc brothers. Charles had seen your maids running about this morning. He wondered what they were preparing for. It couldn’t have been the wedding; you had been whisked away early in the morning to get prepared.
“Prince Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc of Enza,” the priest turned towards Charles. Was the man already done with the speech? Charles hadn’t realised. “Do you take Princess Y/n M/n L/n of Williams to be your lawfully wedded wife? For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part, and according to God’s holy law?”
“I do,” Charles said. He noticed the word ‘love’ didn’t come up in the vows.
“And Princess Y/n M/n L/n of Williams,” the priest’s eyes never left the page. You stiffened and Charles gripped your hand. “Do you take Prince Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc of Enza, to be your lawfully wedded husband?” You paled at the word. “For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part, and according to God’s holy law? Do you pledge yourself to both him and his kingdom?”
You exhaled and said, “I do.”
“I pronounce Prince and Princess Leclerc of Enza! You may now kiss the bride.”
Prince Charles faced you, quirked a brow in silent question, and when you gave a sharp nod, he pressed a quick kiss to your lips.
