Every mid-December, the palace comes alive in an entirely novel way with the bustling preparations for the annual winter ball that the king and queen host to celebrate ‘another wonderful year’.
The once quiet and calm castle transforms into something colorful and vivid with the mouthwatering smell of cakes and pastries cooking in the ovens of the royal kitchen, along with maids and other servants whirling around the long hallways as they place intricate decorations and shiny ribbons all over the broad staircases and windows.
She’s grateful she doesn’t have to partake in the hustle and bustle all that much since her primary duties include taking care of the prince and ensuring he has everything and anything he could possibly need.
Although right now, she sort of wishes she could be stringing up polished ornaments or garnishing elegant baked goods because apparently, being the prince’s personal maid sometimes means sitting quietly in his bedchambers (as per his request to keep him company while he’s reading) with her own thoughts and the sounds outside the door her only source of entertainment.
Therefore, she’s elated when he suddenly turns to face her in his armchair— flitting his eyes over to her from the hefty book that seems to have made him exasperated rather than enthralled.
“Will you join me for a walk? All this noise is makin’ m’head hurt.”
There’s enthusiasm in the nod of her head; a yearning to see the fresh layer of snow covering the trees and painting the entire kingdom with its powdery whiteness— the aftermath of last night’s blizzard. She doesn’t think there’s anything more beautiful than the crystalline snowfall glittering under the touch of the afternoon sun— or maybe a certain pair of aquamarine eyes, but that’s beside the point.
“That would be my pleasure, Your Highness,” she easily agrees.
“How many times do I have to tell you how much I despise that name? There’s no need to use it when s’just me,” he scolds her before he’s straightening up and stretching out his arms over his head.
“My apologies, it’s a habit,” she rises to her feet as well; trying her hardest not to let her eyes linger on the sliver of his stomach peeking out from underneath the silky fabric of his shirt.
“I don’t want your apologies, want you to use my name,” he says before stepping closer— standing tall before her and forcing her to blink up at him in order to meet his eyes. “Go on, sweetheart, say it,” he practically orders; eager eyes fixed on her face.
She hesitates under the sudden attention. He’s always seemed so fascinated by her and she doesn’t know why.
“Um…Rafe.”
He lets out a hum of approval. “That’s good. You ready to leave?”
“Y— yes, uh, Rafe.”
“Good job. Not so difficult, is it?” he coos at her almost mockingly— fingertips grazing the skin of her cheek when he tucks a loose tendril of hair back behind her ear.
She merely shakes her head— a warmth dusting over the apples of her cheeks when his touch lingers on the side of her face afterwards. And for a moment, she thinks she’s going to drown in the lagoons of his eyes, but then he clears his throat and offers the palm of his hand for her to take.
And it’s rather unusual for someone of his status to do; a prince who’s bound to wear the crown one day holding his maid’s hand isn’t exactly something that’s written in any book regarding the royal etiquette. However, he’s never been one to allow for dreadful rules and traditions to dictate his behavior, especially not towards her.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Are you looking forward to the winter ball?” she asks when they stop by the stables to check up on his horse, Jupiter.
“You know I hate dancin’,” he mutters out as he watches its teeth grind on the carrot he brought with him.
She smiles because she does know, before letting out a wistful sigh. “I wish I could attend.”
“You do? Why?” he’s perplexed by her enthusiasm towards something he considers as more tedious than anything— having to plaster on a smile for an entire night and socialize with people he doesn’t necessarily care for in order to humor his father never being something he’s particularly taken delight in.
Especially when Sarah is going to be the one receiving all of their father’s attention anyway. Not that he cares (he does) but he would appreciate it, if for once in his life, his old man would show him even an ounce of the care he seems to so easily shower his sisters in.
“Well, I’d love to wear a ball gown, but mostly for the food,” her feather-light voice brings him back to the moment.
“I’ll make sure to bring you a plate ‘n you can eat it in my room then, yeah?” he promises as he runs his fingers through Jupiter’s black main.
“You would do that?”
“If you promise not to tell the other maids or they’re gonna accuse you of gettin’ special treatment,” his tone is playful.
“They already do that,” she points out. “They think we spend too much time together.”
“And what do you think?” he asks, genuinely curious.
“I don’t mind. I quite enjoy your company,” she answers truthfully. After all, she has grown quite fond of Rafe throughout the years. Sometimes she just wishes he wasn’t so overwhelming, in every sense of the word.
“Yeah?” a smirk pulls at the side of his mouth, seemingly pleased with her answer.
She’s certain he’s well aware of the effect he has on her— the effect he has on everyone. And she thinks that he enjoys it; relishes in toying with her for his own amusement simply because he can. He can practically do anything he wants since his father is oftentimes gone for long periods of time; fulfilling his duties for the kingdom and whatnot.
And she knows Rafe doesn’t particularly mind the fact that his father is rarely home because he’s always been hard on him, much harder than on his sisters because whether he likes it or not, he’s set off to be the new king one day. And his reputation of having female guests over more often than not whenever his father is away doesn’t necessarily help with gaining his approval.
After all, rumor travels fast around the palace.
Rafe once admitted to her that he often felt like a disappointment, and that the pressure of everyone’s expectations sometimes made him wish he was nothing more than a stableman. After all, he does get along with horses better than he ever has with his family— it’s not exactly a secret amongst the royal court.
“Would you wanna go for a ride with me? Think Jupiter’s gettin’ bored,” he suddenly asks.
“Oh, I would love to but I’ve never, um, ridden a horse before,” she timidly admits.
“No? You wanna know how it feels? You could jus’ sit behind me, don’t need to do anythin’, yeah?” he coaxes her to say yes with a seemingly sincere smile; already walking Jupiter out of its stable and leaving her no choice but to follow them outside.
“Really?” the frosty air causes a shiver to crawl up her spine when she eyes him, hesitant.
“Mhm. Promise nothing’s gonna happen, I’ll take care of you. ‘N I know you’ll like it, s’very freeing,” he assures her as he’s already saddling up the horse, seemingly aware that she could never refuse him of anything.
“Okay...if you insist,” she tentatively agrees with a nod that he rewards with a beaming grin; the icy snowflakes sticking to his hair making him look like something straight out of a fairy tale.
Then, he’s lifting her up to straddle the entirely too big of an animal that sort of still scares her— strong hands gripping onto her hips and leaving her momentarily starstruck at how effortlessly he does it; as if she weighs nothing more than the carrot Jupiter was just chewing on.
He follows soon after, settling down in front of her with ease before looking at her over his shoulder. “Need you to hold onto me unless you wanna fall,” he instructs, seemingly reveling in the fact that he gets to be the one teaching her something new.
“Oh, yeah, of course,” she says, gingerly setting her hands on his waist, movements uncertain.
“Gonna need you to hold on tighter, promise I won’t bite,” he huffs out a laugh before he’s grabbing her arms and wrapping them around his middle more firmly— forcing her to fully lean against his back when the sudden clip-clopping of Jupiter’s hooves against the snow-covered cobblestone causes her to let out a surprised shriek.
“Good?” he asks, seemingly amused at the way she’s practically clutching onto him as the cottony snow prances around them.
She manages out a hum, wondering if he can hear her poor heart loudly thumping in her ribcage when he decides to pick up the speed some more, as if she wasn’t already terrified.
“Rafe! Can you slow down?” she squeaks out when Jupiter seems to only accelerate further underneath them.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he lets out a hearty chuckle in response, apparently finding amusement in her utterly frightened state while she wonders why she let herself think for even one second that he had pure intentions.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Y/N? Will you go look for my son? I fear he’s once again escaped his responsibilities to God knows where,” the king requests with an exasperated sigh while she’s crouching down and helping a servant clean up the sharp pieces of a shattered wine glass— the sound of laughter and dancing flourishing around them.
And she could swear she saw Rafe conversing with a guest only a few short moments ago. However, as she looks around in an attempt to locate the missing prince, he’s nowhere to be found.
“Right away, Your Majesty,” she’s quick to answer with a polite smile.
“Thank you,” he nods gratefully, seemingly fed up with his son already.
She ensures that the poor girl who accidentally cut her finger on the broken shards is not going to faint before tiptoeing up the broad flight of stairs in order to reach the higher levels of the palace— the loud music and blooming celebrations echoing around the halls.
“Your Highness? Are you in there?” she knocks softly on the mahogany door leading to his bedroom.
However, she isn’t granted a response.
“Rafe?” she tries once more before pressing her ear against the wood separating her from the muffled sounds she can now hear from the other side— brows furrowing when something akin to a whimper reaches her ears.
It sounds nothing like Rafe; it has a higher pitch, something more feminine than his usual drawl. And as she stands there, contemplating whether something is wrong or if she should just leave, the volume only amplifies.
And in a moment of cloudy judgement, she finds herself pushing down on the handle.
However, she curses her curiosity the moment the door cracks open and she’s faced with the view of some woman’s naked back. Her long, beautiful hair reminds her of lady Lydia (a daughter of one of the dukes invited to the ball) with none other than the prince himself underneath her sweaty form.
The sheets that she changed this morning are crumpled and creased around them and without the barrier of the door, she can now hear Rafe’s low grunts as well— can see how his big hands guide her movements. And they’re both panting heavily, seemingly lost in some haze— maybe the same one that forces her to stay rooted to her spot in the doorway.
With her eyes as wide as saucers and mouth parted, she’s not entirely sure how long she stands there for. Until out of the blue, she notices Rafe’s eyes flickering over to her— a smirk tugging at his mouth when he catches her staring.
She tries to move her legs but they won’t listen; making his lazy grin only grow in tandem with his strained groans that seem to only increase in volume as he locks his eyes with her.
And she can’t breathe; the air clogging her lungs instead of flowing through as her dazed mind tries to get her to do something, anything to get her to leave the room but his heady gaze seems to have hypnotized her— compelled her to stay right where she is.
All at once, a gravelly noise rumbles from his chest— his head dropping against the cushion of his fluffy pillows, seemingly reaching some sort of a peak in his search for pleasure as the woman above him begins to slow down her movements. And that’s when she’s finally able to step away; shutting the door behind her before scurrying down the stairs with bated breaths and heart pounding in her ears.
When she reaches the bottom, she accidentally stumbles into someone holding a golden serving tray— causing it to topple over to the floor with a loud clatter.
“I’m so sorry,” she apologizes before her wobbly legs are scrambling off in an attempt to locate the nearest escape route to the garden.
And once she’s managed to make it outdoors, she feels like she can finally breathe— the crisp December wind granting her heated skin an opportunity to cool down as she sits down on one of the wooden benches with a sigh.
note & warnings: TY nonnie😁 reader and rafe are like 19-20.. also if you are new here i’m a rafael truther so just know any time you see rafael i am talking about rafe. also i don’t know shit about chess😭😭😭😭😭😭
“sir, your guests are here.” your family’s butler announced.
“send them in, gregory. thank you.” your father said with a nod.
gregory curtly nodded back as he opened the door wider to reveal a king and his son. you stood up as they walked in and gave a curtsy while your father introduced you.
“hello, young lady. it’s a pleasure to meet you.” the older man placed a kiss on your hand and smiled. “this is my son, prince rafael.” you held your hand out to him, but he pretended not to notice. king edward cleared his throat and rafael rolled his eyes before lazily grabbing your hand and kissing it.
right before they came in, your father had lectured you on the importance of developing a relationship with rafe, as he might be the man you end up marrying someday. you looked him up and down and scoffed internally. you tried not to think about the smirk that was creeping onto his lips.
the four of you sat down and you picked at your cuticles while you listened to your father and rafe’s talk about imports and exports. when you looked down at your nails, you felt eyes burning into you. but when you looked up, nothing.
“may i be excused? i believe eloise is expecting me-“ your father lightly grabbed your arm as you stood up.
“you may not. the king and his son have traveled a long way to come see us- we mustn’t disrespect them by leaving so early. why don’t you start a game of chess with prince rafael.”
fighting back was useless, so you accepted your fate and led the prince to the other side of the room where you played all your games. you sat on one couch and he sat on the other as you both set up the board.
after a few minutes of awkward silence, you decided to break the ice.
“are you planning to actually do something, your highness, or are you just going to keep moving your pieces from spot to spot?”
“m’lady, i can assure you you do not want me to ‘actually do something.’” rafe smirked at you as your jaw tensed.
“and why not?” you asked.
rafe leaned closer to you before he spoke. “because it might just cost you the game.” you gasped as you looked down to see that he had trapped your king.
“you did not!”
“oh but i did.” the smug look on his face had your head spinning.
“i do not wish to play with you again if you are just going to cheat!” you let out a little ‘hmph’ as you crossed your arms and leaned back.
“cheat?! i have done no such thing.” his fake offended look made you roll your eyes.
“you distracted me! it’s not fair!” you whined.
“i was merely carrying on a conversation that you started, if i remember correctly.” rafe shrugged as he reset his pieces. “and, besides, if a few words is all it takes to ruin your game, then perhaps i am not the one at fault here.”
your jaw dropped as you gasped. “are you always like this, your highness?”
“like what, m’lady?” oh, those blue eyes.
“this insufferable.” you spat, making him laugh.
“i suppose you’ll just have to wait and see”. and with that, rafe stood up and took your hand in his. he held eye contact with you as he placed a kiss on the back of your hand. you tried not to think about how he let his lips linger for a second or two longer than necessary.
TY for reading!! 🩷💕🩷💕🩷 ask box is open for chats & requests💕🩷💕🩷
𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: use of whore and some misogynistic views.
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: prince!rafe wanders throughout the village for a slice of rest before stumbling upon a girl…
the market was packed with commoners. farmers selling their produce, children running aloof and mothers bartering with shop keepers for a measly, dry loaf of bread. a typical day in the quaint village of charleston.
apart from one thing.
a prince. the prince.
prince rafe cameron, first in line to the throne of the outer banks dynasty. a proud and prestigious kingdom his father- king ward- built, brick by brick. or should i say, coin by coin. king ward’s greedy nature had often stole the poor townspeople of their happiness and wealth, leaving behind plenty of poverty but in return, plenty of wealth for him.
but prince rafe wasn’t in the town to boast or flaunt like usual, he was here to escape. from the undeniable pressure his father had placed upon him recently: the task of finding a wife.
and now under the disguise of an onyx cloak and tattered clothes, prince rafe mulls around the market. watching the pathetic peasants run around to do their errands and fulfill their meagre duties.
he wanders through the winding rows of stalls, past a seamstress and a carpenter until he reaches the endless stands of produce.
stands covered with pale fruits, arrays of vegetables and assortments of breads. he’s never seen anything so- vile. a sharp contrast to the exotic foods he eats daily.
but his disapproving thoughts are suddenly interrupted as his gaze lands upon a girl arguing at a nearby stall.
a girl arguing? he’s never seen such a sight. women don’t argue? well the women he’s met certainly don’t argue, they make polite conversation and sit nicely. but arguing? he’s never seen such a sight.
as he nears the stand, he fakes browsing a neighbouring stall. yet his ears stay trained on your melodic voice.
“i am not paying three whole pounds for an apple mr hendricks! i know your produce is by far the best around but you know i can’t afford that anymore! it’s outrageous.” you admit before sighing and moving to scan the crooked market stall that prince rafe is currently “considering” from buying from.
“the prices here are unacceptable today hm?” you muse towards the cloaked stranger next to you. “the king must have risen the price of tax again.. goodness me..” sighing, you say. painfully unaware of the literal prince next to you.
“uh-“ he clears his throat sharply, straying away from you as you near. he pulls the hood of his cloak up sharply before muttering: “sure.. tax..”
grabbing an apple glistening the beaming sun, you toss it over in your delicate hand before observing the parchment hanging from the top of the stall with an inkey list of endless prices. “you must be awfully hot under that cloak? it’s the mid of summer no?” you question, peering over to try get a glimpse of the stranger…
“no.” sharply exclaiming, he tucks his hood up even further.
“oh- sorry” you let out a small giggle as you drop a handful of fruit into the woven basket swinging off your brittle arm before rummaging in your fraying purse for some coins.
you continue searching the battered bag as rafe observes you out of the corner of his eye, not yet catching a glimpse of your face.
groaning, you start to place all the produce once in your basket back onto the display before dropping what seems to be an empty coin bag back into the wicker basket.
confusion crosses his face under his tightly pulled hood, do you not have enough coins? he ponders before looking up and peeking at your appearance.
gods! you’re beautiful.. hair that shimmered in the unrelentless summer sun and doll-like skin… your eyes flickered onto his face quickly before he looked away, shuffling further away before coughing.
“do you need some coins?”
“oh- me? oh well.. i mean i have money at home with my family and uh- i don’t have enough to pay for my shopping”
“here” sticking his hand out in what he thinks to be the direction of you, his palm filled with coins. “take them.” he grumbles…
tentatively reaching for them, you grasp the coins firmly before stuffing them into the pockets of your beaten dress. “thank you! thank you very much!” you squeal with glee as you grab a bunch of goods and fruits and dumping them back into your basket.
“what’s your name?” he questions, the girl perplexing him.
“y/n! what’s yours?” the friendly smile obvious in your tone as rafe continued to hide from you, cautious of being recognised and his brief escape from his father being ruined.
mumbling a vague response, he watches you in fascination until a haggered, old man marches over to her suddenly and starts scolding her:
“some daughter! get home now silly girl! you should be looking after your brothers not playing in the market like some whore!” he screeches as he drags you away in a whisk of stock and rage.
glancing up in slight alarm, he watches you get carried away from the market whilst you throws rafe a pleading look over your shoulder.
knight!jj entering a jousting contest to name you queen of love and beauty while rafe is right next to you
and he’s so good at it, sending you little giddy grins every so often just absolutely crushing it n rafe is gripping your hand all tight, practically pouting at the way you’re giggling in awe at the knight !!!!
something something about pervy prince!rafe who’s entirely too touchy with his innocent little maid who’s always so sweet to him and never fails to obey his every wish.
And maybe that means digging her fingers into his tense shoulders after a long day— his borderline obscene groans of contentment making her eyes round out while he’s lying on his stomach and she’s on top of him on his large bed because apparently it’s ‘easier this way’.
Or sleeping next to him whenever he has trouble calming down after a particularly dreadful nightmare. She’d try her hardest not to pay any mind to the butterflies flapping their wings in her tummy when he’d rest a heavy arm on her waist, mumbling out how ‘you always make me feel better’ while tugging her closer against his chest.
They both know the way he acts towards her is far from appropriate. However, neither of them seems to care too much when he slips his fingers under the hem of her nightgown and lets his thumb smooth over the skin of her inner thigh; his heartbeat finally slowing down along with his steady breaths tickling her neck as peaceful slumber embraces him.
All the while she’s confused as to why she feels so warm and restless all of a sudden.
notes: thank you nonnie for this ask!!! i hope u love 🤗 i’m trying to decide if i want this to be a part of the official bridgerton au so girls lmk ur thoughts!!!! as always, my asks are opennnnn also i can’t tell you the last time i wrote smut so bear with me
warnings: smut, angst, classism, prince!rafe being his usual self, king edward is such a terrible person but i had to include it all for the backstory so buckle up and trust the process!!! also this is a long one but i’m so proud of it and have worked so hard so i really really hope yall love <3
“How can I expect you to take care of the kingdom I have built for you when you can barely take care of yourself, Rafael?” Rafe flinched as his father’s voice boomed throughout the throne room. He had gotten caught (again) sneaking back into the castle at sunrise after being out all night. “You leave in the night and come back drunk and smelling of cheap whores and then wonder why you’re not king. This crown was not meant for the head of a child, Rafael.”
Rafe gulps as his father gets up and begins walking towards him. “It was meant for a man. Something it seems you know very little about.” Ward stops just a few inches in front of his son. “You think no one can see through your facade, and maybe they cannot, but I assure you I can.”
“You know nothing about me.” Rafe’s words are laced with venom.
“I am your father. I know everything about you!” The young prince jumps as his father yells in his face. Ward shakes his head and walks over to one of the many large windows overlooking his kingdom. “Tomorrow, ambassadors from Spain will arrive to discuss whether or not we will go to war alongside them.” He pauses before speaking again. “You will stand beside me.”
Rafe’s jaw tenses. He goes to speak but is cut off again by his father.
“And if you don’t, everyone in attendance will be able to finally see what has become so clear to me- that you, Rafael, are not fit for the throne.” Those words stung more than Rafe would ever admit. To him, he’s done nothing but try over and over again to prove himself worthy enough to fill his father’s shoes. That’s all he ever tries to do, he thinks.
The embarrassment of being scolded like a child and the rage he feels towards his father for not acknowledging the good things he has done begin to stir inside of Rafe like a tornado. He doesn’t wait to be dismissed. He simply turns on his heels and walks away, keeping his head high and his chest puffed out.
On his way out of the castle and to the stables, Rafe is stopped several times by maids and guards, but he simply brushes past them. When Rafe makes it to his horse, he takes one last look at the castle before shaking his head. He haphazardly throws the saddle on his horses back and rides. Rafe goes until his horse grows tired.
When he notices his horse slowing down, he stops and looks around. It’s a village he’s unsure if he’s ever been to, and he’s honestly not sure if any of them would even recognize him as the prince. When he realizes this, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.
Rafe hops off of his horse and leads him into town. He leaves the animal tied to a hitching post and walks into a tavern. The smell of cigars and alcohol flood his senses immediately. He sits on a stool and looks around, gauging the crowd.
Nobody seems to have really noticed him yet. Good, he thinks to himself.
“Hello.” A small voice calls to him, making him turn around. He blinked several times to see if he was dreaming. When he realized he wasn’t, he swallowed thickly.
In front of him was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. The color of your dress complimented your skin so nicely, and he loved the way you wore your hair. He also couldn’t help but notice the way your belt sat perfectly beneath your breasts that were already sitting so nicely in your corset top.
You waved your hand in front of his face and giggled. “Would you like a drink or were you planning to gawk at me all evening?”
Rafe shook his head as he came back to earth. “A drink, please. Whatever’s on tap.”
You nodded as you walked away from him, not missing how his eyes followed you. Once you had his drink fixed, you walked back over and placed it in front of him.
“For you, Mr….” You drug out the last syllable as you waited for the handsome man in front of you to tell you his name.
Rafe panicked. Should he reveal himself? Have her call him Prince Rafael, or even just Rafael, like his father would want? Or should he simply be…
“Rafe. Please, just Rafe.”
“Rafe it is.” You smiled as he drank. A comfortable silence passed between the two of you as you dried clean glasses with your towel.
“So, Rafe, tell me.. where are you coming from? I know that you do not live here.”
“Up north.” He answers quickly, not wanting to go into depth. You narrow your eyes at him but accept his answer anyways.
“Hmm. And what brings you in here?” You put the glass down and place your hands on your hips. The way he studies you has your head spinning.
“I was… around.” He throws his head back as he finishes his beer and slams the mug on the counter before pushing it towards you, urging you to make him another one.
“Around?” You raise an eyebrow as you take the mug from him and fill it back up before placing it back down on the counter.
“Around.” He says bluntly. “Do you intend on knowing everything about me?”
“I’ve hardly asked you anything. Please don’t flatter yourself.” You shake your head and go back to drying glasses. When you walk away to serve other customers, Rafe finds himself watching you. He feels something… strange seeing you talk to and laugh with other men. He wants to look away, but he can’t. There’s just something about you.
When you finally get back settled behind the counter, he feels a wave of relief. He runs a hand through his hair before throwing back yet another pint.
“Done already?” You tease before grabbing the mug from him. Rafe laughs and watches as you pour him a third drink.
“I want to know more about you.” He says as he relaxes and lets the alcohol take over.
“What is it that you wish to know?”
The conversation flows easily between the two of you. You find yourself blushing at every compliment and listening intently as he speaks. There’s something about Rafe that leaves you wanting more. Every time he finishes a sentence, you can hardly wait for him to start another one.
By the time the tavern closes, you feel like you’ve known Rafe your entire life. He stays back and keeps you company as you close up. You blush when Rafe offers to walk you home.
“Do you walk every barmaid home?” You ask, biting your bottom lip to keep from smiling.
“Only the pretty ones.” You roll your eyes at his comment and hope he doesn’t notice the way you’re blushing.
On your walk home, the conversation flows just as easily as it did in the tavern. The two of you laugh and joke and talk about whatever comes to mind. You almost dread actually getting to your destination.
A few minutes later, you finally arrive at your small cottage. You stand in silence in front of the door. Neither of you know what to say and you’re both afraid of saying the wrong thing and causing the night to finally end.
You’re drawn out of silence when Rafe’s horse neighs beside him.
“Um, I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you, Rafe.” You say with a smile. He sends you a smile back before raking a hand through his long hair.
“This is the best night I’ve had in quite some time.” He stares into your eyes like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes one step closer to you. And then another. And another.
Your breath quickens as he backs you against your door. Your eyes are wide when you stare up at him.
Before you know it, his lips are on yours. Your hands tug at his hair as the kiss deepens. His hands find your waist and he squeezes, making you gasp. Without pulling away, you fling the door open and pull him inside.
Rafe pauses for a second to let you both breathe and he looks around your home. He barely knows you, but for some reason, he can tell this is your space. It just feels so…. you.
“It’s not much, but…” You smile sheepishly, gesturing around you.
“No, it’s perfect. It suits you.” He looks you up and down before taking another look around.
Rafe follows as you lead him to your bedroom. He takes it all in. The smell of the candle you’re lighting, the quilt thrown over your mattress, the clothes bursting out of your wardrobe, the way your pillows are set up- all of it.
The two of you stand in silence for a moment as the tension between you rises. You watch as Rafe moves closer to you. Again, before you have time to process what’s about to happen, his lips are on yours.
The kiss is messy but passionate. Your teeth are clashing and Rafe is kissing you as if it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. His hands move down to your hips as he pushes you back onto the bed. He takes a second to admire you, but it doesn’t last long.
You sit up when you notice Rafe unbuttoning his shirt and begin to help him. You swore you heard a button hit the ground in your haste, but you can’t worry about that right now. As soon as his shirt hits the ground, he’s working on undoing your corset. It doesn’t take him long at all to loosen the laces and slide it off of you, and you try not to think about what that means.
You slowly push the sleeves off of your shoulders and pull your dress and garments down, revealing your breasts. Rafe feels his breath catch in his throat. Once you’re left in only your panties, you look up at Rafe through your lashes (and that’s enough to send him over the edge).
He grabs your shoulders and pushes you onto the bed. Your lips meet yet again and you’re beginning to think that every kiss is better than the last. One of his hands is cupping your breast while the other is around your calf, stretching your leg back as he positions himself against you.
You moan at the feeling of his bulge pressing into your clit. Noticing your reaction, Rafe does it again. As bad as he wants to rip your panties off and take you then and there, he decides he wants to see you squirm even worse.
You go on like that for a few more minutes- kissing and grinding against one another like your life depended on it. You’re nearly in tears when Rafe finally speaks up.
“You sure you want this, sweetheart?” He asks as his actions come to a stop. He moves your hair away from your face as he waits for you to respond.
“I’m sure, Rafe. Please. I need you.” You whine underneath him and wrap your arms around him, trying to pull him closer to you.
That’s all he needs to hear before he’s sliding your panties down your legs. “I need to make sure you’re ready first.” Rafe brings his hand up to your face. “Open up for me.” You open your mouth and he slides two fingers in. He pushes them further and further and only pulls them out after you start gagging. “Perfect.”
You gasp when Rafe slides his long fingers between your folds. Your toes curl and your fists clench the sheets beneath you. He notices this and laughs lowly. “You like that?”
“Rafe! Oh my god!” The way he’s moving his fingers is driving you insane. You arch your back into him, silently begging for more. You scream out when he curls his fingers inside of you.
He tries to hold out, but he physically can’t. Hearing you scream his name and whimper and moan anytime he does anything has Rafe feeling animalistic.
He shoves his underwear down and his erection springs free, slapping against his lower stomach. Rafe pulls his fingers out and you gasp as the cold air hits your wet pussy.
He pumps his length one, two, three times before lining himself up with your entrance. Rafe leans down and presses his forehead against yours as he watches his cock all but disappear between your legs.
He hisses when your nails dig into his back, leaving long red scratches in his tanned skin. “Goddamn.” Rafe thrusts harder and faster as your walls clench around him. “You really are perfect.”
He kisses you like a man starved as his hands press your hips into the mattress. You whine underneath Rafe, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten.
“Rafe! I-“ You gasp. He breaks the kiss and moves from your lips to your neck, leaving wet kisses all over your soft skin.
“I know.” Rafe looks up and grabs your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him. “Go on.”
That coil in your stomach pops and you melt into the mattress as you both come undone at the same time. After a minute, Rafe pulls out and rolls over to lay beside you. The two of you lay there for a while as you catch your breath.
“That was…” Rafe begins, trying to find a word to describe whatever it was he just felt.
“Mhm.” You reply sleepily.
He turns to look at you, wanting to say something else but stops himself when he realizes you’re already asleep. He laughs and shakes his head before pulling the sheets over you both. He falls asleep with you in his arms and your legs all tangled together.
Some time in the middle of the night, the two of you had rolled away from one another. Rafe wakes up before you and takes this time to admire your features. The sunrise peeking through your window is lighting up your face so beautifully, and he wishes he could stay in this moment forever.
But I can’t, Rafe tells himself. He’s a prince. If his father didn’t take him seriously now, who knows what King Edward would think if he were to come waltzing in with a barmaid from a random, run down tavern?
Rafe pulls at his hair so hard he’s actually surprised it doesn’t come out in clumps. He sits up with a huff and tries to rub the sleep from his eyes.
“You will stand beside me. If you don’t, everyone in attendance will be able to finally see what has become so clear to me- that you, Rafael, are not fit for the throne.” His father’s voice rings in his ears. He glances over to make sure you’re still asleep before he slowly gets up and makes his way over to his discarded clothes.
He’s able to get dressed and walk to the door before you begin to stir. Rafe panics, but instead of quickly leaving, he freezes, with his hand on the doorknob.
“Rafe?” You call. He can see you out of the corner of his eye. Your hair is a mess and you’re covering yourself with the blanket. “Are you leaving?”
The confusion in your voice hurts him more than he had anticipated. He sighs before straightening his posture. “I have to.”
“Oh.” You reply defeatedly. He watches as you slump a little. “Will you be back? I really enjoyed our time tog-“
“No.” He answered curtly. “Take the night for what it was and nothing more. You’ll be better off to pretend it never happened.” Rafe waited for only a second, and when you didn’t say anything he opened the door and left. He quickly jumped on his horse and headed home without looking back once, despite how much it pained him.
Rafe groaned when he saw Sebastian, his father’s most trusted advisor, standing outside the castle doors. He was walking up, having already put his horse back in the stable, when the older man called his name.
“Prince Rafael, your timing is impeccable as ever.” The two men looked each other up and down for a moment. “I was beginning to think your father would have to go on without you.”
“Well, I’m here now. That’s all that matters, correct?” Rafe claps Sebastian’s shoulder before walking away. He was silently praying Ward hadn’t noticed he’d ever been gone in the first place.
He quickly ran up stairs to his room. He smiled when he saw the woman who’d been caring for him since he was a boy standing outside his door with tea.
“Thank you, Margaret.” Rafe instantly relaxed upon his first sip.
“Of course, sir. Would you like me to run you a bath?” He nodded and Margaret did a small curtsy before walking away.
Rafe walked into his room and slipped his boots off before going into his bathing chambers. He sat down in his tub and immediately let his whole body go under. As he laid underwater, he thought about you.
God, he wishes he could’ve had one more night with you. Even just one more hour. But his father would never understand. Ward would never be able to see past the fact that you’re a barmaid, no matter how badly Rafe would beg and plead for him to accept you.
The young prince felt like a war was going on in his mind. On one hand, he wanted to please his father. He wanted to show Ward that he was fit for the crown and damn anyone who thought differently. On the other, he wanted you.
In just a short period of time, Rafe had found himself completely lovestruck by you. The one night you shared was simply not enough for him and he wanted more. He needed more.
All of his built up anger and frustration bubbled up to the top and came out as a scream under the water. Once he had exhausted himself, he shot up. Rafe leaned against the tub, breathing heavily.
He moved his hair away from his face before standing up and grabbing his towel. Rafe dried himself off, wrapped a towel around his waist, and walked into his room.
Rafe practically disassociated the rest of the day. He stood beside his father like a statue, only speaking when spoken to and nodding in agreement when Ward spoke. He only noticed the meeting was over when Spain’s ambassador stood in front of him with an extended hand.
Once they left, Ward stepped in front of Rafe and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps there is hope for you yet.” Without saying another word, the king walked away and left Rafe there alone.
You weren’t much better off. You were sloppy at work and kept forgetting orders. Your boss pulled you aside after your third forgotten brandy.
“What is your problem? I’m running out of excuses for you.” You gulped and looked down, playing with your fingertips.
“I’m sorry, I just….” You trailed off as you looked up. “I’m not sure.”
“Pull yourself together.” You nodded as your boss walked away. You sighed and went behind the counter, drying off another glass. You moved on autopilot until it was time for you to leave.
Once you finally returned home, you took a quick bath, put your nightdress on, and laid in bed.
You stared at the ceiling in silence. You’d only met this man yesterday. Why couldn’t you stop thinking about him?
You decided Rafe was unlike any other man you’d ever been with. He was so handsome and the way he navigated your body made it seem like he’d done it one million times.
He seemed like he really liked you. The conversation flowed so easily and the sex was… you didn’t know if there were any words that could describe how perfect it was.
But what was it that made him leave? Was he married or engaged? Did he not like you as much as you thought he did? Were you just another girl that fell for his charm?
The possibility of him hiding something, or of him not really liking you as much as you thought, made you want to scream. How could you be so… so stupid? How could you fall like this over a man you’ve known for one night?
You pulled your quilt over your face and screamed as loud as you could.
Several weeks had passed since Rafe saw you for the first time and there wasn’t a single second he didn’t think of you. He tried his hardest to push you to the back of his mind, or out of it completely, but he couldn’t. He wanted nothing more than to run to you.
However, he refused. With every passing day, the pressure from his father grew more intense. Rafe felt like he was constantly being studied under a quizzing glass. He knew this was not something he’d want you to get caught up in. He didn’t want to think about the words Ward would throw your way. So, he stayed back.
It was only when the Prince of Spain came to town that he finally got a break. Because of the alliance between the two kingdoms, the young princes had developed quite the friendship. Rafe looked at Prince Matteo as a confidant and vice versa. Currently, they were fencing in the castle’s salle.
“Rafael, my men tell me there’s a festival in one of your villages tonight. They say the women are beautiful and the drinks are even better.” Matteo spoke as he lunged his sword towards Rafe.
“I believe there is a Sunset Festival a few miles south.” Rafe dodges yet another hit before moving forward with his own sword. The sound of metal clashing fills the room.
“I would like to go.. and I would like for you to join me. I don’t understand how you stay in this castle all day. Don’t you ever have fun?” Rafe rolled his eyes behind his fencing helmet and thrusted his wrist forward, sending Matteo’s sword to the ground.
“If it’s fun you wish to see, then fun we shall have.”
Later that night, Rafe and Matteo, along with some of Rafe’s friends and men, rode into a nearby village. They laughed and cheered the entire ride as they sipped brandy from a flask. When they finally did arrive into town, they all but jumped out of the carriage and looked around.
The two men talked, drank, and ate all night. They had their fair share of dances with women, but nothing felt right to Rafe. He tried to drink until it did, but he kept coming up empty. Once he thought Matteo was occupied, he wandered off somewhere away from the crowd.
His thought process on how he would escape was interrupted by a sound he thought he’d never hear again. Your laugh.
It hit him harder than he thought it would. Rafe stopped dead in his tracks and began subconsciously following your voice. He walked faster and faster until he was almost running and then-
He saw you.
You looked as perfect as ever. Your hair was down and your dress fit you so beautifully, not to mention the way he thought the color of it seemed to be made just for you. You were smiling and talking to a group of girls. Rafe wasn’t sure if they were your friends or your sisters.
He froze, just a few feet away from you. Rafe had been imagining this moment over and over again. He so desperately wanted to know what it would be like when you finally saw each other again. He took a deep breath and moved closer to you.
You felt someone staring at you, but you hadn’t figured out who. While your friends were gossiping about something, you looked around, trying to see if you could find your admirer when you saw him.
Your heart fell to your stomach at the sight of the man in front of you. You tried to ignore him and continue listening to your friends, but you couldn’t. He called your name loud enough to make your friends’ heads turn. They looked back and forth from Rafe to you. You shook your head and walked away from them, quietly asking them to give you a moment alone. They walked away as you walked towards Rafe.
“Why are you here?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of you. You gave him a few seconds to respond before your anger hit you and you stomped over to him. “Why have you come back? Why now?”
“I-I didn’t know-“ Rafe stammered over his words. Mad or not, he still couldn’t believe you were in front of him again.
“Didn’t know what? Didn’t know that I would be here? In my own village? Have you forgotten our night together that quickly?” Your eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.
“I came here to the festival with a friend. It didn’t occur to me before now that this was your village.”
“Is that all you have to say?” You scoffed. “I do not care why you are in my village. I care about why you decided to come back to me.” You moved closer to him, jabbing a finger in his chest. “You disappeared, Rafe. You left without even telling me why. You told me to act like that never happened and now you stand before me as if it actually didn’t!”
“You act as if I had a choice!” You gasp when Rafe clasps his hand over your own. His words came out a little louder than he anticipated. He takes a deep breath and lets go of your hand before he speaks again. “I wish I could tell you why I left, but I… I can’t.”
“You can’t or you won’t?” You spat.
“I-“
“Your highness!” Rafe’s eyes widen as he hears the familiar voice of his guard. The man bowed slightly before the prince. “We’ve been searching for you, sir. Prince Matteo has had too much to drink and has fallen ill. We must return to the castle at once.”
“Give me a moment.” Rafe dismisses his guard with a wave of his hand.
“Sir-“
“Leave us!” The guard wastes no time in running back to wherever he had been before, leaving you and Rafe alone again.
The two of you stood in silence for a moment before you decided to speak up.
“So that’s what this is about, then?” Tears welled up in your eyes as a wave of realization crashed over you. You shake your head when Rafe says your name softly. “You’re just a prince who needed a… a what? A release? You rode your fancy horse down to the nearest village and charmed any girl stupid enough to pay you attention in hopes you’d get to bed her! Just to leave in the morning? Because the Crown Prince of England mustn’t ever be seen with the likes of a lowly barmaid?”
“No.” He replies, stepping closer to you. “Never that.”
“Then what?” you demanded. “What could possibly explain you leaving the way you did?”
Rafe’s jaw tightened. “You wouldn’t understand.”
You laughed harshly, making him flinch. “Do not assume what I would or would not understand.”
“If I would have stayed behind, you would have been thrown into a world you never asked to be a part of.” He looked into your eyes, silently begging you to understand his reasoning.
“So now you expect me to believe you did this for me?” You questioned.
“Why do you continue to act like I chose to leave?” Rafe raised his voice, but you refused to back down.
“Because you did!” You replied, exasperated. “You had the privilege of choosing! I did not. I got one night with you and you were gone.” Your voice began to crack as your shoulders dropped. “I have spent the last several weeks playing that night over and over again in my mind, trying to determine what would have possibly made you leave the way you did. My resentment towards you grows stronger with every passing minute. You hurt me, Rafe!”
“I know, and I’m sorry. My intention was never to hurt you. I only ever meant to protect you.” Rafe steps closer to you.
“And instead you’ve done the complete opposite.” You wipe the tears from your face as you look up at him. Silence falls briefly before Rafe speaks up.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back.” He grabs your hands in his and holds them close to his heart. “I cannot undo what I did, I know I can’t. Nor can I expect you to forgive me so easily. But, if you can find it in yourself to believe I have not forgotten a single moment we shared, please allow me to prove it.”
Rafe pulls you even closer. Your noses are touching now and you can feel his breath on your skin. You meet his eyes and stand still for a moment. Every thought you’ve had for the past three weeks has led to this moment right here.
You close the gap between you with a kiss, sliding your hands up to tug at Rafe’s hair. He relaxes into the kiss as his hands fall to your waist.
“I hope you’re truly willing to do whatever it takes, your highness.” You murmur into the kiss.
