Proposal
Pt.2 of The Princesses Jester
This one's kinda short?
The night of the ball remained a blur of shimmering silver and midnight blue. The music had been a distant thrum, secondary to the steady beat of Satoru’s heart against my palm as we moved in a slow, gravity-defying dance.
I hadn’t spared a single glance for the sea of princes and counts who had spent the evening vying for my attention; they were merely ghosts, pale imitations of the man who had actually returned from the abyss for me.
Our official engagement wasn’t announced that night—my father was still far too close to an apoplectic stroke for that—but rumors are the lifeblood of a palace. By the time the moon had dipped below the horizon, the whispers had already traveled from the servants’ quarters to the village gates. By the next afternoon, broadsheets were already being hawked in the square, detailing the "Miraculous Ascension of the Jester Duke" and the "Princess’s Undying Devotion."
Satoru had stayed in the castle that night as my guest, a move my father had protested with a series of muffled roars that echoed through the stone corridors.
The next morning, the sun had barely kissed the spires of the castle before I was awake. I couldn't hide the frantic, electric hum of excitement in my veins. I didn’t wait for my ladies-in-waiting to dress me; I was still dressed in my nightgown as I rushed out of my room, my bare feet silent against the cold marble as I hurried to the guest wing. I had to know. I had to be sure he hadn’t vanished back into the mist like a beautiful, cruel fever dream.
I reached his door and paused, my breath hitching. I peeked my head in, searching the room. The bed was made—crisp, medical ward-corners neat—but the room was empty. A small frown of disappointment tugged at my lips as I stepped fully into the chamber. "Where could he have gone..." I mumbled, my heart sinking.
"Looking for me already, dollface? I was expecting you to sleep until midday."
I jumped, a small gasp escaping me as I spun around. Satoru was leaning against the heavy oak doorframe behind me, a fond, lazy smile playing on his lips. In his arms, he held a massive, wild bouquet of flowers—my favorites, the ones that grew only in the hidden valleys beyond the northern ridge.
"I—I just wanted to say good morning," I stammered, trying to regain some semblance of royal dignity while standing there in my nightgown. "But it seems your tendency to sleep until the sun is high has vanished with your bells."
My eyes widened as he approached me and my eyes took sight on the bouquet. The colors were so vibrant—deep purples, shocking yellows, and soft cornflower blues—that they felt like a physical warmth against the gray stone of the room. "Oh... Satoru, they are beautiful."
"They are for you, my dear. As long as you’ll take them," he said, stepping into the room. His presence seemed to shrink the walls, making the air feel charged and small. I accepted them, the scent of fresh rain and crushed stems filling my senses.
"Of course I’ll accept them," I whispered, my eyes softening.
He reached out, his hand—larger and more calloused than before—coming up to caress my face. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear with a tenderness that made my knees weak. "I thought the flowers I picked were the most beautiful things in the realm," he murmured, his blue eyes locking onto mine with a terrifying clarity. "But seeing them next to you puts them to shame. Your beauty truly outshine nature itself."
My heart swelled, a faint dusting of heat reaching my cheeks. "You've always had such a way with words, Satoru."
"Words come so easily when I talk with you," he replied, his voice dropping to a low, melodic hum. "I feel as though my words are so many that they could never be written down; for every day, my heart sings another sonnet for you, my beautiful princess."
He was closer now, his hand still resting softly on my cheek. His eyes didn't drift to my lips, but mine wandered to his for a split second, drawn by the magnetic pull of his proximity.
"You are awfully bold, Duke," I teased softly, though there was no bite in my tone.
"Yes, well? I've yearned for over a year to be back with you. Could you indulge me just this once?"
He leaned in, the distance vanishing as his lips met mine. It wasn't the frantic, desperate kiss of the night before; it was soft, passionate, and utterly sweet—the kind of kiss that promised a lifetime. I kissed him back, careful of the flowers in my hands, wanting to reach up and wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer, to anchor him to me forever.
Satoru pulled away first, though he stayed close enough that our foreheads touched. His face showed that familiar, bright smile—the one where his eyes crinkled and his teeth shone.
"Don't look at me like some lovesick puppy, Satoru," I said softly, though I was smiling too. I pulled away and found a seat on the edge of his bed, clutching the bouquet.
"I am lovesick," he huffed, moving to hang his royal mantle. "Besides, news has already spread. When I was in town buying these flowers at dawn, there were already new letters being printed. I am always surprised at how quickly writers can scribble when there’s a scandal to be had." He sighed, flopping down onto the bed next to me and staring up at the silk canopy. "They haven't even given me a proper chance to propose yet."
I looked down at him, surprised. "You plan to do a proper proposal? After all this?"
Satoru raised an eyebrow, propping himself up on one elbow. "Why, of course I do. This isn't some arranged marriage of convenience, Princess. I love you, and I want to show my appreciation. Like I'd ever be one of those wealthy idiots who can't appreciate a good woman when they've got one."
The moment of his words were sweet and surprising but short lived as a soft, rapid knock interrupted us. "Princess? Are you in there? Your father has summoned you to join him for breakfast. It is time you get ready."
I frowned in disappointment, the reality of the crown settling back onto my shoulders. I stood up, looking down at Satoru. "Will you join us for breakfast?"
"Probably not. I think your father wants to skin me alive right now," he chuckled. "I'll stay here and try not to get beheaded before noon"
"Then I will eat quickly," I said firmly. "And I’ll have the maids bring you a plate. Perhaps we can go out together... later today?"
"Your wish is my command," he said, the old jester's glint returning to his eyes. "Let's take a walk in the gardens, and perhaps I'll steal you away for a trip beyond the castle walls." I smiled brightly nodded my head before scurrying off and biting him farewell.
Not long later, I was the picture of royal poise. I wore a gown of serene cornflower blue taffeta, the structured bodice tapering into a sharp V-shaped waistline that flowed into a voluminous, floor-length skirt. The off-the-shoulder neckline was framed by delicate white lace, and my hair had been swept into an intricate updo as recommended my my head maid if I was to frolic out with my lover in the heat of the afternoon
I joined my father in the morning room. "Good morning, Father," I said, offering a polite curtsy and a kiss to his cheek.
He barely muttered a greeting, his eyes fixed on his plate. I sat down and began to eat in silence, the tension thick enough to choke on.
"What are your plans for the day?" he asked finally.
"I’ll be catching up with Satoru in the gardens," I said, a warm smile spreading across my face. I could not hide the absolute joy in my voice as I spoke.
My father scoffed, the sound harsh in the quiet room. "You really do want that jester boy?"
"He is no longer a jester, Father. And even if he were, I would want him all the same." I said looking up from my meal with a small tilt of my head to get a better look at him. I could see the mild annoyance in his face but his eyes showed worried irritation.
"That boy was nothing more than a commoner?" my father snapped, slamming his hand against the table. "He has no right or honor to be in a position to marry you. He was a hair’s breadth from being beheaded." He shrewed out in anger turning his gaze to meet mine. "Suppose he doesn’t love you? What he wants is your status and your money, and you are too naive to see it!"
I felt my heart break—not because of his words, but because of his coldness. I set my silverware down with trembling hands. The fact that that he was blatantlychoosingto disregaurd Satoru’scurrent status...or even the fact that this was the man who made me happy felt like he truly had no reason for his behavior. "That is enough. You speak with such vulgarity toward the man who went out of his way to earn a title just to satisfy your pride. You haven't even taken the time to know him."
"He is a jester, he will never be anything more than that. He comes back and ypur already throwing yourself at him so desperately. What if hes changed for the worst? For he is not the man you once knew-" *I cut him off placing my silverware on my barley touched plate. "Enough father." I folded my napkin. "If you cannot respect me, my choices, or the man that I love...then do not summon me to eat with you just to listen to your crude words."
I excuse myself and I left the dining hall, my heels clicking sharply against the stone. I spent some time walking the halls to clear the heat from my mind before returning to Satoru. Satrou may have changed titles but just from the way he speaks...the way he looks at me. I know he hasnt changed from the man i once fell inlove with. Satoru never cared about money nor has he ever cared about status. He was not one of those bumbling idiots who only saw me as a chance to get ahead. Gojo's affection for me was sincere and authentic.
I headed back down the long corridors finding myself entering Gojo's room once more. I found him at a small desk, reading over a parchment. I approached him from behind, resting my chin on top of his head. "What are you reading?"
"Suguru has sent his regards," Satoru mumbled. "And a letter for permanent relocation to the Eastern Provinces if I choose. He’s never been a man for sentimental words, so I find his bluntness amusing."
"How did you become friends with him, anyway?" I asked. "I heard he isn't fond of people."
Satoru chuckled. "I found work in his kingdom training the royal guard. We had a meeting, and I might have... let out a rant about how stupid and classist the requirements were. He happened to hear me."
I chuckled shaking my head. "You've never been one to hide your displeasure of those matters."
"I thought I was done for," he admitted, rubbing his face. "But he summoned me and offered me the position of his personal guard. I fought for his honor, and we became friends. I've only been a Duke for a few weeks on paper, but he’s been treating me as one for months. He told me, 'Most people get these positions by nepotism; you getting in early doesn't bother me. Besides, I call the shots.'"
"Seems you made a powerful friend," I said.
"Indeed. I blame my irresistible charm," he said, tilting his head back to look at me.
"Yes, yes, my very charming jester," I teased, kissing his forehead.
One week Later:
The tension with my father hadn't vanished. He hadnt uttered a word to me or summoned for me to join him anywhere. It felt as though i was being shunned by the one person i had though would always support me. Satoru’s presence made it bearable. He was always there keeping me distracted from my thoughts of sadness. We had spent the last few days in a whirlwind of stolen moments—late-night talks in the library and long walks where we ignored the whispers of the court and my father's glares.
On the seventh evening, Satoru led me deep into the royal gardens, past the manicured hedges and the marble fountains, to the neglected corner where the wild briars grew. The sun was dipping low, painting the sky in bruises of purple and gold.
"Why here, Satoru?" I asked, laughing as a thorn caught my silk hem. "It’s practically a wilderness."
"Because it’s the only place that isn't performing for someone," he said. He stopped near an old stone bench and turned to face me. The playful glint was gone, replaced by a raw, earnest gravity that made my breath catch.
"I spent a year thinking about this garden," he began, his voice low. "Thinking about how you looked on those stairs. I realized that a title doesn't make a man worthy of you. But I wanted the world to see you the way I do—as someone who deserves the sun, the moon, and every star in between."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small velvet box. As he flipped it open, the last rays of the sun hit the stone inside, sending a spray of blue light across my face. It was a ring unlike any in the royal vault—a magnificent, crystalline blue sapphire held in place by silver prongs shaped like delicate, intertwining vines. It was raw, elegant, and perfectly him.
Satoru dropped to one knee in the dirt, the Duke and the Jester merging into one man.
"I don't have a script for this, Princess," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "But I have a promise. I will never let your world grow stale. I will fight every king and every count to keep you free. Will you marry me?"
The tears I had been holding back for a year finally fell. I didn't care about the approval of my father anymore or his temper. I only cared about the man in the dirt.
"Yes," I sobbed, reaching out for him. "Yes, Satoru. Always."
As he slipped the cold silver onto my finger, he pulled me down into a kiss that tasted of the future. The jester had won the crown, not by taking it, but by proving he was the only one brave enough to love the girl beneath it.
Taglist: @oksukuna, @lunarevia