Sylus has always been quite open about how he’d never deny you any of your wishes and desires. His very being aching to indulge in your every want and spoiling you to ruins.
However, sometimes it serves to be rather difficult for you to even verbalise what you’d want. Sometimes due to shyness, sometimes due to genuine lack of awareness for your own desires.
And thus you find yourself in the predicament of deciding what you two should eat for dinner today.
Luckily, Sylus is equipped with the perfect ability to pry out his beloved’s desires. Even those that you haven’t even realised yourself yet.
“Sweetie. If you starve yourself any longer, I’m afraid of what wrath will be revealed once you reach your ‘hangry state’ as you call it.”
“I don’t know what I wannnnnttt, Syyy—“ a whine, helpless, drained and too exhausted to even entertain the idea of eating.
“Look at me.” His voice coaxed you, so gentle and tender, creating a subtle shift in importance. Calloused fingers tip your chin up, eye hypnotically crimson while captivating you with his intense gaze.
You couldn’t look away.
It consumed you with a familiar warmth as his thumb caressed the apple of your cheek. Chaste kisses peppered on your face as he mustered you lovingly, fingers tucking back a loose strand of hair.
You were positively dazed, a buzz of affection fogging up your brain in a giddy veil. You wanted to lean in, give yourself away and be engulfed in his affections.
“Carbonara.”
“Huh?”
“We’re having carbonara for dinner. That is what you desired, kitten.”
You simply roll your eyes, too exhausted from the heat as you were sprawled out across Sylus’ lap.
“Syluuuussss—“ you whine in dismay. He taps at your stomach like a bongo to lighten up your mood.
It was blazingly, excruciatingly hot in Linkon and you couldn’t bear the thought of stepping outside to visit your beloved in the N109 Zone. Despite the promises of a cooler place and a far better AC than what your humble apartment could achieve with a mediocre fan, you stayed at home.
Your boyfriend however, being the ever so loving man, dragged himself through the excruciating heat to reach you instead.
So now, because the two of you are still the couple you are, you find yourself laying across the legs of a half naked, beefed up Sylus, clad in nothing but loose basket ball shorts, you had thrown at him and a sheen of sweat.
The curtains were drawn as best as you could, to lock out the sun, half drunk drinks on the coffee table, the ice now melted, creating a layer of condensation on the glasses, the fan whirring softly, working overtime to provide a breeze. You could feel your bodies sticking and sliding against one another, the skin slippery with the shared warmth, but neither one of you wanting to part and not touch.
“No wonder my hunter couldn’t muster up the strength to get to me, this apartment can barely be called habitable.” His hair bounced slightly with the breeze of the fan, face illuminated by the soft light of your ambient lamps.
“I’m sorry..” you frowned at him in soft guilt, you both handled heat and the sun terribly and he’d come all the way to your place to keep you company in your condemned toaster-apartment.
You could barely apologise, before his nimble fingers pinched your lips shut, making you pucker and pout against them instead. He snickered, dipping his head down to peck your lips affectionately.
“There’s no need for apologies, when I can easily fix your sorrows, kitten.”
And as if on cue:
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Sylus ushered you off his lap to go open the door, the solution to all your troubles.
The delivery man with an AC.
You swear you’ve never loved Sylus more.
A/N: and because we’re all good people, we give the delivery service water and a break ☝️ they’re the true heroes here and deserve recognition. Sylus tips the delivery man a bunch of money imo
Istg this heat is killing me and I need to cope, might write more summer stuff to just feel better. I haven’t written in a long time so I’m also surprised about this post heh
"What are you staring at, sweetie?" Sylus advanced on you, his long strides quickly closing the distance and backing you up against the wall. Effectively trapping you there, he leaned in. "You have been staring without saying a word. What are you thinking of?" He was so close you could feel his breath on your cheeks. It would be so easy to just reach out and..
"Nothing." Your eyes darted away before you could stop yourself. "You're not making eye contact with me, kitten. Tell me, thinking about something mischievous again?" He thumbed your lower lip. More like embarrassing. you pursed your lips and shook your head. You were stubborn like that and unfortunately, he knew that as well.
"Stubborn aren't we? Let's settle this in a fun way then." He said, fishing out his favorite coin and rolling it along his knuckles. "Heads and you tell me what's on your mind. Tails, you win-" "And you take me out to dinner" You interrupted, doe-eyed as you stared up at him. A low chuckle "Okay, deal." He flipped the coin. Time slowed as you watch the coin fall. Right before it hit his hand, you made a wild grab for it and ran for the door. Looking over your shoulder, the stunned expression on his face was almost comical. But it was soon replaced by that devilious smirk of his that sent a delicious shiver down your spine. "You're not getting away so easily."
Before you could redouble your effort, black red mist snaked around you, lifting you off the ground and pining you against the door as he walked leisurely towards you. "Really? Using your evol? That's cheating Sylus!" You twisted and squirmed in vain. "Says the one who stole the coin. Now, hand it to me." With a bit of finger wrestling, he pried your hand open. Still not giving up, you jerked your hand and the coin flew a few feet away, spinning on its side before falling over to reveal HEADS. "Well well looks like my luck is holding up today." He smirked at you with triumphant light in his eyes. "Now to hold up your end of the bargain.." you glared daggers at the treacherous coin. "Ughhh fine. I was thinking about touching your eyebrows."
The room was quiet. you peeked at him from beneath my lashes. Sylus was shaking his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "As always, you never fail to surprise me. That isn't a difficult request. You could have just said so."
" It's an embarrassing request.."
"Nothing you tell me is embarrassing"
Releasing you from his evol, he scooped you up and made himself comfortable on the couch, depositing you in his lap. "Go ahead." He tilted his head back, one arm around your waist and the other resting on the back of the couch. Tentatively, you slid your finger across his brow, admiring the defined arch and enjoying the sensation of fine hairs brushing against your skin "It's softer than expected for someone as sharp as you." He hummed pleasantly, eyes closed as he leaned into your hand cupping his face, his usually sharp features a tad softer than usual. He seemed to be enjoying it too.
Moments passed in silence with only your quiet breaths accompanying you.
"How long are you going to keep this up?"
"Until I'm satisfied."
He cracked open an eyelid. "So insatiable."
"I learn from the best."
You were on your back on the couch the next moment. Sylus nuzzled your neck, "As much as I enjoy entertaining your every whim," With your hand in his warm grasp, intense gaze boring into your soul, he said in a dangerously low voice "Now it's your turn to entertain mine."
a/n: if you made it to the end, here's a cookie for you 🍪 :3 i realise it's unneccessarily long for something so simple
Description: When feeling down, Sylus always knows exactly what you need.
WC: 2.9k
Wrote this for a lovely anon who suggested some Sy comfort! GAH, I hope this is at least kinda what you were hoping/looking for!!!??? 🫶 Definitely needed some solo Sylus on my page, please enjoy! Boss Man is so soft for his dearest wife!!! Bit of an upset/not ready to chat about it reader / Sy & you missed each other situation!
- Blueberry જ⁀➴ ৻ꪆ (Masterlist)
After having recently showered, in only his briefs, Sylus slips into the bed next to you, “What’s wrong, kitten?”
You roll toward him, “Hmph…just tired, I guess.”
He carries a faint smile, but his brows subtly twitch with worry, “Is there anything I can do, sweetie?”
“Will you just—” you sigh, getting closer, “lay with me, hm?”
His brows relax, and he welcomes you into his arms, “Come here, my love.”
You happily nuzzle against the side of his chest, “So cozy—mmm—thank you.”
“Of course.” After kissing the top of your head, he stays silent a moment, enjoying the feeling of you beginning to soften and relax against him. “If you want to talk about it, kitten, you know I’m right here, hm?”
“Y-yeah, of course. Thank you.” You tilt your head up to meet his eyes, hoping to offer some assurance, “It’s just…work, I don’t know—feeling drained.”
“I see.” He nods slightly, his warm gaze fixed on you while he strokes your cheek with his thumb. This is before his brows raise, “My diligent hunter who knows she doesn’t have to work, but does it for the people.”
You tap his chest with your hand, “Shush, you!”
“I’m only teasing, sweetheart.” He lets his finger stroke your nose, giving you a gentle tap as he smiles. “I know how hard you work. You do a lot. Too much, I think. They don’t deserve it.” He says so like he means it, earnestly believing your efforts aren’t acknowledged to the extent they should be. Suddenly, his eyes shift and become softer, more playful, “Mmm, been too busy to let me spoil you.”
You lift a brow and mirror his same smirk, “Spoil me, huh?”
He hums, “Mhm…” His thumb returns to your cheek, stroking your skin lovingly while drinking in each curve and each feature your face has to offer him. His voice becomes smooth and coaxing, “Let me take you somewhere. Wherever you want. Whenever you want. I’ll get you whatever you want. You deserve a break, hm?”
You smile, your hand flattening over his chest, “All I want...is to be right here, next to you.” His shoulders relax further as your hand runs along his skin, “You’ve been busy too, you know.”
He lets out an honest, regretful breath, “I know, kitten.” He pauses, trying to absorb exactly how you’re feeling, “...Do you think I enjoy being away from you?” While laced with his usual tinge of sarcasm, a part of him genuinely asks, sometimes fearful that you may underestimate the pain it causes him to be anywhere other than right next to you.
You grumble, turning your face back into his chest. You knew, and knew well, of course not. But those biting insecurities from a long and tired day—days—nipped at your heels and allowed doubt to spread—feeling an angst grow that what if you did, in fact, rely on him more than he did you?
He brushes your hair back and away from your forehead, staying silent yet another moment to enjoy the sound and the feeling of you breathing against him. “After we met, every separation has tested my patience. But because it’s you, and only you, I’m willing to wait.”
“What if—” you sigh deeply before looking back up at him, “I can’t wait. I never want to wait.”
He squeezes you tighter with the arm holding you against his chest, “Just because I said I’m willing, does not mean it’s not the most grueling moments of any given day, kitten.”
“Hmph…” You press your lips against his chest before letting your cheek rest against him again.
His voice becomes a playful coo, “Hm? Not good enough for you, sweetie?” Suddenly, his other arm coils around you and he’s flipping you onto your back, letting his weight press down between your thighs.
When he hears you giggle and sees a small smile, he grins, “What if...I told you that waiting…missing you…being away from you…is pure, utter, and complete torture, hm?”
Your eyes crinkle as you smile, and he can’t help but smile right back, pure admiration and adoration in his eyes, “Mm, now we’re talking…”
He offers a light laugh and a smirk, “Oh, yeah?” He lets his head dip, pressing a light kiss against your collarbone. “Well…” his bottom lip drags up the base of your neck before pressing a kiss against your skin, “it is.” Between gentle kisses on your neck, “You have…no…idea…just…how painful it is.”
“Mmm—”
“Every hour,” his lips part, pressing a more passionate kiss against your neck, his hips driving forward between your legs, “every minute,” then, you feel his teeth from a soft nip, “every second…”
When you laugh again, he’s already groaning and beginning to suck on your flesh, soothing the pressure against your skin with his tongue. Your string of quiet laughs ends up faltering into a moan.
He pulls out from your neck, and he cocks a brow but still wears his famous smirk, “And what is so funny about that, kitten?”
“Nothing, you just—” effectively silencing you, with his arms propping himself up above you, he lifts his left hand, tracing the outline of your bottom lip with his thumb while you speak, “y-you…”
He smirks again, “Cat’s got your tongue?”
“N-no…”
“So cute.” His thumb drops from your lip, his index finger working in tandem to grip your chin lightly, leaning in to give you a soft kiss.
You notice the faintest glow from his right eye, “I don’t think my princess wants to talk about it, hm?” You don’t move or respond, stuck in place with searing anticipation. He speaks warmly, “That’s fine by me, I’m ready to listen when you’re ready to share. But…” His gaze drops to your lips before returning to your eyes, “Until then, you seem to have a different desire, hm?”
Letting go of your chin, his knuckles lightly brush against your cheek affectionately, “I can promise you, kitten. I missed you more than you missed me.”
You shake your head softly, “Mm-mm.” Your hands raise to slip over and past his neck and into the hair at the nape of his neck, “Not possible.”
Putting his left hand back on the bed, his lips curl into a smile the closer he gets, “Very—very—possible, kitten.” He leans in further, his lips hovering over yours while you toy with the ends of his hair, his voice a whisper, “More than likely, actually.”
You smile again, wrapping your legs around the low point of his waist, “Will you tell me more about those minutes and seconds?”
“Oh, kitten…” you tilt up, your lips grazing his, “even better, I’ll show you.” Directly after he finishes speaking, he’s crashing his lips down onto yours, a gravely groan humming from his throat.
“Mmmph—” You let your fingers thread completely into his hair as your legs squeeze tighter around him.
When you break away, his lips are immediately touching the corner of your mouth, your jaw, and back down to your neck, “Sy—mmm—I missed you—” he bites your skin softly, “ngh—so much…”
His lips touch the edge of your ear, “More, kitten. So much more.”
“Mm-mm—” Each denial, each bicker over whose longing held more depth, causes him to bite you—a quiet punishment for, in his eyes, denying his supreme truth.
He chuckles against your skin, “I don’t think so.”
Your chest starts to heave, “I d-do.”
“Is that so?”
“Mmhm…”
Making his way down your body, he shakes his head, again and again, his lips touching your shoulder, your sternum, the top of your chest... He sits up, pushing your nighty up your thighs, “No, kitten.” He smirks at you, his palms warm against your skin, “Not possible.”
“Yes, poss—” He gives you a look that makes you stop speaking, his fingers hooking into the top edge of your panties by each hip, slowly pulling them down.
Leaning back in and down, relaxing between your thighs, his lips press against your skin, “Are you comfortable, kitten?”
You rake your fingers through his hair, pushing it back, “Mmhm.”
He grins, pressing his lips into your other thigh, “Good. Now, let me show you, hm?”
“Y-yes, please.”
“Good girl.” The phrase makes your hips twitch, your exposed cunt bucking just barely in the direction of his mouth. Immediately, his eyes flick to yours, a devious grin etched onto his face, “Oh, I see. This is what you missed so badly, hm?”
“N-no—mm—well, yes but—”
He laughs quietly, his hands slipping beneath your thighs and gripping your hips, using a short and swift tug to pull you closer to his mouth which makes you release a sharp gasp. “It’s okay, kitten. No need to lie. I promise, I also missed this more than you.”
You laugh in response, offering a firm tug of his hair to force his gaze back on you while he tries to lean in to get his mouth on you, the action making him groan and give you a heavy-lidded gaze full of amusement. You smirk, “There’s absolutely no way.”
“Oh, but there is.” His fingertips dig into your hips, “Let me go, and I’ll be happy to show you, kitten.”
“Mmm…” Your grip loosens and he smiles.
“That’s it...good girl.” Keeping his eyes on you, his tongue barely grazes the hood of your clit, slow and short, but still enough to make you whine. “Mm, that, too. I missed the sounds you make...” He presses a light kiss to the top of your slit, just above your clit. He kisses his way down, waiting for another whine, which he gets easily.
When you buck your hips again, his fingers press into your skin. “Ah, ah. You have little patience, sweetie.” His tongue parts your slit, running up until he creates a soft tug against your clit, “Let me enjoy what I missed so dearly, hm?” You nod, biting your bottom lip while trying to keep your hips down. “Mmm, good.”
With a more flat stroke of his tongue, he gently licks over your clit until you whimper, “S’pretty…” With each noise you provide, he’s consuming you more openly—getting greedier each second.
“Sy—oh m-my god—” Your head falls back against the silk covered pillows.
Barely lifting his mouth and between slow laps of his tongue, “Mm-mm. …Mmm—eyes on me, kitten.” Weakly, you lift your head, his right eye promptly glowing now. “Mmhm…” He hums against you, the vibration—the look in his eyes—making you moan.
“Mmmph—y-you—”
He stops, “Just relax, sweetie.” His right hand lets go of your hip, his arm coiling around your leg and hip until the nook of his elbow is wrapped around your thigh. He brings his hand past and down your stomach, all the way down until he‘s spreading your slit with his fingers. “Mmm…look at you. I miss everything about you, kitten.”
He licks a slow, short stripe over your wholly exposed clit, and continues to do so repeatedly between speaking, “Each sound…each sight…each desire you have.” You tremble, whining while staring down at him helplessly. “It’s my job to give them to you, all of them. When I’m away from you…” His lips wrap around your clit, offering the slightest and most gentle suck he’s capable of. When letting you go, “I can’t stand it.”
“S-Sylus—mmm…”
Without another word, his hand leaves your slit and returns to your hip, his mouth hungrily back on you, engulfing you completely as he grinds the flat of his tongue against your clit. “H-holy shit—nngh—!” Both of your hands lace into his hair, tugging while lifting your hips to get closer to his mouth—as close as possible.
You moan loudly when he chuckles against your skin, your eyes mutually locked. You never needed to tell him when you were about to cum. He knew. He could see it, sense it, feel it—taste it. He could watch it happen with absolute certainty. It didn’t matter if it was loud and fast or slow and quiet. This one, though, laced with longing was somewhere in between.
With zero words spoken, it’s like he gave you silent permission with his eyes that you were allowed to finally throw your head back and look away from him. When given that look, your back arches dramatically and your head falls back into the many lush pillows beneath you.
As soon as you start to whine, whimper, shriek, he’s extending his hands past your hips, his large hands palming your waist, his fingertips digging into your back and his thumbs into your waist, pulling you down closer to him.
Humming, groaning, a gravely grit in his voice spilling from his throat and vibrating against you only made things more intense. “Sy—oh m-my god—f-fuck!”
He only chuckles again and hums from his throat, slowing the stroke of his tongue to draw out the furtherest most depths of the feeling—to force it to last as long as possible.
Before you, or he, is even finished, “I-inside me, I n-need you inside me—nngh!”
His hips drive forward into the mattress, having been completely hard right from the start, but painfully so at the actualization of your release he himself created. But even then, he doesn’t stop, wrapping his lips back around your clit to suck, “S-Sy—h-holy shit—mmm!”
Gasping, “P-please—ngh—I need you.” The emphasis unintentionally placed on “you” makes him immediately stop. Despite the frequency to which he loves to make you cum—over and over again—with his mouth, who was he to deny his greatest love of all her desires? To gratify them instantly, whenever she calls for them. It’s what he was made for, he thought.
Crawling up to meet you, his lips suddenly are on your thighs again, your hips, your stomach, your chest, your neck…all while you’re panting and failing to recover. “Look at me.” His lips press into your cheek, his voice softer—gentler, “Look at me, kitten.”
When you meet his eyes, “Mmm—t-that was—” He doesn’t let you finish, his lips quickly meeting yours instead, his tongue slipping into your mouth easily as you welcome him. Without thinking of it, your feet raise, trying to push down and against the material of his briefs hugged around his hips.
He parts from you, chuckling, “So needy, kitten.”
“Y-yes, yes—I need you, please.”
His expression softens, “I need you, more, princess. Always.”
After a quick adjustment, you’re both completely bare, the underside of his length grinding against your soaked slit while he kisses everywhere he has access to at this angle. Your lips, your face, your chest, your neck...
With his face buried in your neck, “I missed you.” His voice is honest, slowly losing its typical collected edge as it slips into raw desperation, “I missed you so much.”
“Mm-mm. I—” your voice cracks into a whine at the sensation of his hard cock grinding against your clit teasingly slowly, “m-more—” Your sentence can’t be properly stated, let alone finished. As a result, you feel him smile against your skin.
He continues to grind against you, the feeling unbearable as you’re desperate to feel him—all of him, “Sy—S-Sy—e-enough. You w-win. You missed m-me more, p-please just—mmm!” You gasp when he lets the head of his cock press against your entrance.
“Y-you’re so—” You want to scold him, but can’t, especially not as he starts to sink into you while groaning into your neck, “Y-you—oh my god—y-yes, mmhm—”
It’s slow and undulating, driving a deep sense of comfort that penetrates far beyond that of your skin and reaches all the way down to your bones. That is especially when he lifts his head from your neck and presses his forehead against yours.
When your eyes start to close at the all-consuming sensation, “Right here, kitten. I’m right here. Stay with me.” His voice is a smooth hum, not possessive or commanding, but rather a reminder that he’s exactly where he should be—where he’ll always be.
Connecting in this way transcends the physical, and becomes an embodiment that whether you were as close as you could be, or as far, it didn’t matter. The very fabric of your souls are one—like he was keen on reminding you, showing and displaying to you in every action, word, or task he performed for you out of his deep, burning love.
“That’s it. Look at me.”
Your moan is thin and quiet when he presses into you completely, your eyes both wanting to close and to stay open to savor the love he shares with you from his own. He was right, every hour, minute, and second, not feeling this way, was torture.
“You’re so beautiful.”
“Sy—” You can’t find the right words to respond with, completely engrossed by the feeling he transfers to you with an intention and loyal devotion felt—experienced—through his skin. The slow, meticulous thrust of his hips left you exactly where you wanted to be—in his embrace.
Eventually, you do find the right words, “I love you.”
The way in which he speaks those same words back, “I love you…” carries such weight, another reminder that his love is endless—always right here; always waiting, ready, and willing to be provided whenever you call for it, need it, or hell, even demand it, “so very much.”
You don’t need to ask him to kiss you, to kiss you and never stop—never part from this feeling of sheer and pure entanglement in every sense of the word. In any given moment, before you can utter the words, he already knows exactly what you need, and is more than devoted to give you just that—whatever it may be.
He always knows. Every hour, every minute, and every second.
pairing: king!sylus x f!pauper!non-mc reader | regency AU!
cw: inspired by barbie’s princess and the pauper or a retelling, but with lads characters instead, heh; mostly fluff and being silly, nothing is really serious here, implied singer reader, completely unhinged
synopsis: you had become a princess—a wannabe, but to save the royal wedding! you feel the itch underneath your nose, that skye isn’t who he is, and it’s only a matter of time before your cover is blown. what’s going to happen when your wig gets snatched? like literally?
wc: 3.9K words
a/n originally, it was supposed to be a quick, short one-shot, but there were too many plot holes and no emotion built up with the many time skips, so here we go! ending might feel rushed, sorry but i had fun writing it according to what sylus would actually do haha.
You’ve gone from a seamstress to an animal whisperer—you wish. You still can’t understand the caws and coos of your birds.
It was a day Skye couldn’t join you for your tea time. Zayne hasn’t barged into your room to drag you out of the plush bed and nag. Where had all those people gone to?
Now, you resort to talking with this crow who joined your entourage with your dove. Walking aimlessly in the garden, you hadn’t realized you had entered the forest behind the palace.
“So, who’s the princess’s secret admirer? Oh, I’ll let you in on a secret… I’m actually not the princess,” you whispered to both of your birds, which they couldn't care less.
“I suggest not walking further, Your Highness!”
You stopped immediately. Eyes wide, you looked for the source. No, because that just made you want to bolt off.
You counted to three in your head, hands gripping your skirt. You ran, startling both birds on your shoulder as you started taking off.
“Oof!” Two pairs of arms caught you. You squirmed, stepping on their feet.
“Ow! Ow! Kieran, hold her tighter.”
“Ow! I’m trying, Luke!”
“Your Highness, we’re under King Sylus’ orders to keep you safe!” The masked man on your right, Luke, exclaimed. “You went too deep into the forest.”
“I did?” You stopped moving, finally feeling your feet back on the ground.
When did the area get so dark?
You flinched at the rustling bushes. You hadn’t realized you were holding on to one of them until a bunny hopped out. Sighing in relief, you finally took a good look at the two wearing all black.
“Yeah, we’re here to guide you back to the palace. It’ll be sundown any sooner.” The masked man on your left, Kieran, spoke. “We mean no harm, Your Highness.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I hit you earlier. Are you both okay?” If Caleb ever knows you hurt his underlings, you’ll be done for—wait, they said King Sylus.
“We’re fine! We’ve been scratched by a bear before.”
“And a tree almost fell on us, but we’re alive.”
You blinked at these two… guards? Crazy masked guards?
Shaking your head, you started walking back with them. “How are you both under King Sylus’ orders? His Majesty is not even here,” you asked.
You could see them staring at each other before they both looked away. Both of your birds had found their refuge in each of their shoulders.
The more you looked at them, the more you remembered seeing them before Skye sent them back to the kingdom.
“Well, we’re his attendants! He sent us back here to guard you.” Luke said. “We arrived this morning. We’ve been keeping an eye on you whenever you go out.”
“Inside is off limits?” you asked just in case.
“Of course. His Majesty’s orders.” Kieran hummed, patting the dove in his hands right now.
You are weirded out, but then again, it makes sense. As a princess—fake princess—you still should have personal guards. Emcee has Caleb, then you have these twins. Which makes you wonder, where was Caleb when Emcee went missing?
“We didn’t know Mephisto was with you all this time.” Luke grinned, moving his hands up and down with the crow in his hands. Mephisto stayed still, already used to it.
“...Mephisto?” Your crow has a name. All this time, you’ve been calling them Caw and Coo. Mephisto is much cooler. You should think of a name for your dove.
“This is His Majesty’s bird. He personally took care of Mephi since he got injured.”
Something doesn’t add up—everything doesn’t. Why would the king’s attendants, even a bird, come to a far neighboring palace when the king stayed in his kingdom? Or were you looking into it too much?
And the crow gave you a bracelet. Does that mean he intended to give it to the princess?
Skye’s face and his expensive laugh came echoing in your mind. You were suspicious now. “I heard the ambassador is his closest aide. Is that true?”
“Yes, he makes the decisions if His Majesty is not around.”
“Cooo?” Even your dove feels disturbance in the force, head tilted.
“Are you under his decisions or His Majesty?” you asked once more. You swore you could feel them grinning underneath their masks.
“His Majesty’s!” In-sync.
You smiled. Great loyal subjects, you want to pull off your wig. You were sure Skye wasn’t who he is now… how will you confront him with this?
The walk back towards the palace was livelier than your one-sided chatter to your birds. You found out they were twins. Their mannerisms mirrored each other.
You even forgot how you needed to act like a princess around them. It’s been a while since you laughed that much.
Emcee sure will have it nice if she were to marry the king.
“Did you have a pleasant walk, Your Highness?”
Ah, speak of the man himself.
The twins had watched you crack your back to be straight after the relaxed posture. They went into place as well, guarding behind you, as if everything snapped back into place—despite the man having seen and heard the three of you being loud from afar.
“Yes, it was pleasant.” You smiled, folding your hands on your skirt. “Your attendants are very accommodating.”
“You will be meeting them more often once you are married.” He chuckled, offering an arm to walk inside the palace. “They are His Majesty’s trusted guards.”
“How about yourself, sir Skye? Will I see you more often as well?” you asked, grabbing his arm. It already falls into place with how frequently you’ve done it—you can’t imagine holding another’s arm now.
“We will see, Your Highness.” A vague answer fell out of your ears.
An ache stung in your chest at the thought of not seeing him anymore—ha, you’ve grown attached to the ambassador.
Would you miss him when your act is done? No one to link your arm with anymore, talk about random things whilst having tea, listening to his unique humming—you’re definitely going to miss him.
Quickly shaking your head, what were you thinking? Sure, you were jealous of the princess before, for her state of living with no debts at all—but her duty determined the kingdom’s future.
And you were no princess. You won’t see Skye anymore.
You weren’t ready to go back to your demise. Even with the promise Zayne would pay half of your parents’ debt, you were sure the madam would still add the so-called ‘interest’—and you couldn’t possibly leech off him either.
“Your Highness is holding on like you won’t let go.” He mused, feeling the grip of your arm tighter each second. Not something he couldn’t handle, but more of what he can’t read your mind.
You only gave him a crooked smile. Maybe you didn’t want to let him go after all.
You fell for Skye, the fellow ambassador. Worst, if your hunch was right—he’s the neighboring king, who was about to marry another.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
“Zayne is missing?”
You couldn’t believe your ears when Caleb entered the princess’s room to inform you. Your knees buckled, falling back on the bed.
You were alone in this palace now.
“I told him not to go alone and yet…” Caleb sighed, running his hand through his hair. “You—I don’t trust you, but I have no choice. Give me time until I find them both.”
“That’s what Zayne said last time…” you muttered. To buy him time until they found the princess, yet he went missing. “It’s been far too long I’ve been here. They’re bound to find out I’m not the princess.”
You doubt he will save you from prison, but there was no one else you could confide in. His position would be alarmed if anyone knew he sided with the fake princess. He is the captain of the knights. Will you even be unscathed if he’s gone too?
“Just until midnight, I will be back with them.”
You hope he holds to his words.
“And tell me why you’re staring so hard at my head?”
“Oh, no—Nothing! Nothing at all… Say, do you have like a bump on it somewhere?” Curiosity got the better of you when you were reminded of Zayne’s unfortunate tale.
Caleb raised a brow. “We’re in an emergency, and that’s what you’re asking?”
“Right, sorry—” You laughed it off. He looked at you suspiciously but decided to humor you when walking himself out.
“Dunno where you heard that from… but I did slip into a pond and hit the back of my head. The bump is kinda still there.”
Your brain worked its cogs. Zayne was sort of telling the truth… You’re never telling him you assumed he threw a stone at Caleb. Did Zayne wish he did, though?
You’re going to assume he did as a jealous rival.
Your head was frazzled if you weren’t thinking of the unfortunate tale to humor you. You were clouded with worry for Zayne, Emcee, and even the prickly knight who hates you.
Now, you were preparing for lunch with several important people—the Queen, the neighboring kingdom’s ambassador, and the prime minister. This was your royal duty to cover for the princess.
“Why the frown, Your Highness?” The familiar voice made you stop, seeing that Skye had joined you. Oh, how you wished you could tell him.
“Oh, um—I read a rather sad book, is all…” Well, that ‘book’ was your life. You’re replaying what Caleb had said earlier over and over in your mind—not about his head, of course.
“Whatever I can do to cheer you up, Your Highness?” Skye raised a brow, offering an arm to escort you to the dining hall. It became a habit whenever you walked with him through the gardens, just silently looking at the scenery.
“Maybe humor me with a small promise?” you said without thinking. You’ve grown too comfortable with him in less than a month.
“Gladly if it’s anything within my power.” Skye only chuckled—whatever makes you happy, he’ll do it.
“Since we have become acquainted… close enough to be friends—I hope you think so as well… Promise me you will not turn your back on your friend? Even if something happens that you don’t expect?”
He wasn’t sure. Were you speaking as the princess or as you? Yet the anxiety swimming within your eyes could only make him smile slightly. He wished he could just take all of your burdens away.
“That is a hefty deal, but of course. We will be working much closer after the wedding. It is unspoken that you have my word and trust—as your future aide.”
He wished he didn’t have to add the last part, but alas, his cover is still going.
The walk to the dining hall ended when the butler opened the doors.
“Ah, you’re here, darling.” The Queen smiled at your arrival, even more when she saw you hand in hand with Skye.
You don’t see it, but you feel it. The stink eye from the prime minister. Why is he staring so scornfully?
The lunch was for political talks, mostly between the ambassador and the prime minister, and also with the Queen whenever her opinion was asked for.
“When will the king arrive to meet his bride?” The prime minister asked. The lunch was almost ending, and you were grateful you’d be out of this stuffy atmosphere within minutes.
“I do have something to confess,” Skye spoke from beside you. You looked at him, confused.
“I am no ambassador. I’ve come firsthand to see who my bride is. I apologize for deceiving all of you, but I believe neither of us would be comfortable marrying a stranger.”
If you weren’t in front of other people, your jaw would drop. Oh boy, you were right all along. And this man only sent you a smirk.
Well, at least it’s comforting to know it wasn’t only you who hid your identity, but you can’t have that grand revealing like this. You’ll be in prison instead of praises.
You hadn’t realized Sylus had gone out from his seat, taking your hand. Visibly stiffening, you stared at him as he brought your hand to his lips.
The bracelet slid down slightly. You had worn it for moral support from your crow—ignoring the fact it might be from the princess’s secret admirer.
“It would be good to reveal this as well.” The prime minister chuckled, standing up.
Guards were already by your side, but Sylus didn’t let go of your hand. The slight gaze he had made them back up—not without a hand pulling at your hair.
You winced. Your actual hair was being pulled in the process—what hurt more was being revealed of your true identity. You could hear the Queen gasp, but you couldn’t sense what his reaction was.
“You dare to lay a hand on my bride?”
Your eyes snapped towards him. Oh, he hadn’t faltered at all. If anything, his grip tightened around your hand.
At his gesture, Luke and Kieran came out, bringing stacks of documents to present to the Queen. Continuing the shock of her own daughter being fake, the truth of the prime minister's doings was revealed. You were more worried for the Queen’s health at this point.
You couldn’t believe your ears—fraud, money embezzlement, even the palace’s treasury.
All you could feel was the thumb softly kneading your palm.
“Your Majesty, allow me to handle this as an international intervention if you would,” Sylus said, bringing you along as he neared the Queen.
The prime minister scoffed, already cuffed under Sylus’ guards.
“...As the Queen, I allow your intervention to aid in these matters.” The Queen took a deep breath, shaking her head in disappointment towards her most trusted person.
She had wanted to stand up, to face you. Yet you only let her sit back, not trusting her legs would be strong enough after devastating news.
“And you, dearie.” The Queen reached for your hand. “I am… disappointed to find my daughter is missing this late. More of the fact that I had not recognized the change between you and my own daughter.”
“You look like her so… so much.” The Queen whispered.
You only gave a wistful, apologetic smile.
“But thank you—for withholding the duty that a princess should be doing. You must’ve tried so hard to convince His Majesty and retain the relationship between kingdoms.” The Queen had a weary expression, yet you could see she was proud of you—at a stranger who got roped into the royal mess.
“You’ve done great duty for the kingdom.”
“...You should thank your most loyal subject, Zayne. For seeking me out to help, Your Majesty.” You curtsied, a gratitude for her to not put a punishment over your improper behavior—faking as the princess, her own daughter,
The Queen only nodded, patting your hand twice before turning to the king situated behind you.
“Your Majesty. Please, find my daughter.” The Queen addressed Sylus, who still held his ground behind you—ready to defend you if anything went awry.
“That’s already been handled, Your Majesty.”
The crowd of knights came in, Caleb leading in with Emcee running towards the Queen. You saw Zayne following behind them. His eyes found yours, nodding with a small smile to express gratitude.
In the midst of the reunion, Sylus whisked you to the corner.
“...So, you knew everything?” you asked, staring at the hand holding yours. He hadn’t let go yet. You were starting to feel special for once.
“It was not hard to discern noble etiquette naturally and not.” Sylus chuckled. His other hand had tidy your messy hair from the wig pull. “However, not everything. It took time to find the princess’s whereabouts.”
“Hey! I practiced hard for my etiquette…” You pouted, looking at the crowd of reunion. You should find and thank Zayne for his guidance after this.
You’ll miss breakfast in bed and free desserts. Then again, you were borrowing those chances—the rightful owner came back.
“I guess this is a goodbye, Your Majesty.”
“A goodbye?” Sylus raised a brow.
“You’ll be marrying Her Highness. I’ll be back to my normal life after this.” You smiled. It hurt, trying to let go of what you had been comfortable with for a month—it hurt to let him go.
“And who says that?”
His hand was on your cheek, wiping the tears you hadn’t realized had fallen. You closed your eyes—you shouldn’t be used to his touch.
“Well… I am in no possible social standing to ever meet you again, Your Majesty. I have debts to pay, a dream to reach. Royalty has never been made for me.” You laughed slightly, reminded of your debts.
The debt would be paid in half if Zayne did as promised, but you don’t even know how much the debt is with that so-called ‘interest’.
“You’re assuming… I will marry someone who already has her eyes for another?” Sylus raised a brow. The thought had tickled him. That would mean all his Skye disguise was for nought.
“You are marrying for kingdom union—to help Linkon prosper from its bankruptcy,” you remembered Zayne’s words the first night you were in the palace.
“And as a royal, it doesn’t matter who you marry, as long as you’ve done your duty—doesn’t that apply to you too?” You furrowed your brows.
It earned a hearty laugh from the king. Your face heated up so much that you looked around to see if anyone had heard.
“What are you laughing at?!”
“You must have forgotten I am a king, from a wealthy kingdom which is not on the verge of bankruptcy.” He smirked.
“You’re evil… you’re making my kingdom bankrupt.” You were lowkey offended. This was also your homeland he’s talking about!
But oh, that smirk you’re going to miss. Tears welled up again. You couldn’t help but cry at the thought of not seeing this man again.
“Goodness.” Sylus only chuckled. “I am not sure what you’re crying over now, dove.”
You, I’m crying over you.
“I’m sure the princess had found something interesting the moment she was captured… It’s enough to help the kingdom.” Sylus informed, taking a step closer.
“Now, let me propose a deal to you as your friend.” He muttered.
Right, he promised to be your friend no matter what. You hum, wiping away your tears.
“I will sponsor you to several opera performances, here and overseas. You will pay your debt with the money you earn.” Sylus started, taking your hand with the bracelet.
That would be a dream come true.
“You will be a successful songstress. I believe in you.”
Oh, you forgot about that songstress matter. You furrowed your brows. Wait—
“You knew all along?”
“I requested Mephisto to send this to the songstress. He’s never wrong.”
“I thought the princess had a secret admirer, sending things through a crow.” You let out a wet laugh. “Why are you so kind to me, Your Majesty? I… I betrayed your trust, I deceived you.”
“We’ve conversed enough to be friends. Isn’t this what friends would do?”
You wouldn’t know. Your only friend was the old lady who would kindly remind you to eat and sleep back in the boutique. Those were the kind things you knew.
“And had you forgotten I was Ambassador Skye to you?” He chuckled, which made you squint. Right, he pretended too.
“We both deceived each other, dove.”
You only chuckled, shaking your head. Letting go of the problem, you weren’t exactly ticked off either to know his true identity—though a little bit of fear was still evident until he saved you from imprisonment.
“Then, as a friend… can I ask you for another favor?”
“Name your deal.” Sylus smiled.
You requested help for the old lady and run an investigation on the boutique—or rather, gather evidence of overwork and underpaid labor. What you hadn’t realized the reunion crowd soon navigated to where the both of you were.
“That’s already been done, Lady Y/N.”
The familiar voice of your previous tutor approaches. Zayne nodded as Emcee huffed. “Goodness! I don’t understand how you could live through that—that greedy mouse!”
Mmh, she must be referring to the madam.
“The royal knights will oversee the investigation into the boutique. Your debt has been repaid after performing to be the kingdom’s savior.” Caleb read out the declaration conducted by the princess herself. “You have been given a title from Her Majesty, Baroness L/N.”
‘No debts to pay’ lingered in your mind.
“There will be a day for your title bestowment, Y/N.” Emcee grinned.
“It seems you have more friends than you thought, dove.” Sylus hummed from behind you. He had a hand around your waist, grounding you from the fleeting surprise.
“That means the money you earn will be yours alone, your very first true paycheck.” The thought made your eyes glimmer. Not being paid for debt, but for yourself.
Emcee cleared her throat, taking both of your and Sylus’ attention.
“And I would like to invite you to my wedding! As promised, please sing at my wedding.”
Your eyes widened, seeing Emcee grab Caleb’s hand. You never knew Caleb could grin that bright. He was like a different man, not that ‘you don’t belong here, pauper bla bla bla’.
You were more worried about your previous tutor. You glanced at Zayne, who had a small smile, happy for his friends, yet the sadness was still in his eyes. Pursing your lips, you decided to get some almond cookies for him.
His eyes met yours, which had softened slightly.
Thank you. You had read his lips correctly this time.
“So… where will you go after this?” Emcee asked. Her eyes flitted between you and Sylus—eyes fishing for gossip.
Well, Sylus had laid out your plan. You will be singing in the opera, definitely not back to your mundane life. As for next…
“Taking it one at a time.” Sylus hums. “She will be performing in Mo Grand Theater in four months. You will be sent tickets.”
Mo Grand Theater, the theater you’ve been trying to sneak into. Your jaw dropped slightly.
“As for the next step…”
You glanced at Sylus, who was still not done yet. You were already happy with what he offered. What more could there be—
“A wedding invitation soon, hopefully.”
Huh?
While Emcee was cheering in delight, you looked at Sylus, sending a ‘that was not in the script’ look. Sylus only shrugged while guiding you out of the palace.
A carriage was ready to bring you to your future.
“Think of it, my dove. I have already thought of you as my bride before—and you still will be. All I need is your decision after your career.” Sylus muttered, easily pulling out a box from his pocket.
He slid a ring on your middle finger, a simple band with a ruby.
“A proper proposal will be made when you agree. This is simply proof of our partnership, I, as your patron.”
“You will be there, right?” you asked, staring at the ring.
You already knew your answer to his proposal. You panicked just a day ago, but you were filled with happiness right now. You wouldn’t let the chance slip when he offered to help you reach your dream.
You had to be selfish for a bit. Your lifelong dream was within grasp.
A kiss on your hand reminded you of your first meeting with him.
“At every step of the way, my dove.”
Epilogue.
From the Mo Grand Theater, Linkon Palace of Emcee’s wedding, and Philos Palace—you had shared your voice. Your name was on every paper, not because of your patron—Sylus sponsored you anonymously from the world after you were recognized. You wanted to build your name. You went through the same auditioning and selection process as everyone. You caught the attention of Thomas, who brought you to Rafayel, an arts appreciator and the founder of Mo Grand Theater. Your talent was finally recognized. Your portrait was hung in the halls of Mo Grand Theater, alongside famous songstresses and songsters, within a year.
You invited the old lady, Zayne, Emcee, and even Caleb to your first show. Sylus was also there, front row seat. Three bouquets and a flower decorated your room that night.
The proposal was quiet. Sylus had asked you once more on one knee, in the field of flowers. You accepted, ready to live with someone who would love you, for you. You hadn’t expected he would spin you around after that with that chuckle of his.
It was a happily ever after, from your courage in being a fake-princess—
Uh, you were always free to begin again. Maybe next time wouldn’t be so illegal.
i had so much fun writing this, if you can’t tell hahaha.
pairing: king!sylus x f!pauper!non-mc reader | royal tutor!zayne x f!pauper!non-mc reader (platonic) | regency AU!
cw: inspired by barbie’s princess and the pauper or a retelling, but with lads characters instead, heh; mostly fluff and being silly, nothing is really serious here, implied singer reader, sort of unhinged
synopsis: you are a seamstress dreaming of being free from your parents’ debt until suddenly the princess who looks the same as you has gone missing. can you step up to the pedestal to be a princess and save the royal wedding from being canceled?
wc: 3.8K words
a/n i had this draft before our wolf fiasco haha… was still editing and hopefully someone would enjoy it. since sylus loves music, i thought he would suit as being king dominick. apologies if caleb came out wrong here, this is all just silly and unserious, and apologies if the wording is kinda wonky, shifting in between povs. hope you enjoy!
“Please, I must buy time until the princess is found.”
You were just about to dust off the fabrics—who is this fine gentleman on his one knee in front of you now?
“Oh, I thought… she had invited me to her wedding to sing—if that is even possible.”
“Unfortunately, no wedding will happen when the princess is gone.”
You are a seamstress working in a renowned boutique to pay off your parents' debt, dreaming of being free as a singer, until you are dragged into the palace to be a princess stand-in.
You were sure you would have your freedom last year, yet the madam had taken an interest in the debt. You once swore this boutique would fall apart from laboring with only two seamstresses for a thousand dress orders.
It was last week that you met Emcee, the kingdom’s intelligent and charming princess. She looked eerily similar to you, except for her hair and the rightful birthmark of a royal born. You heard of her fate to be wedded to a stranger, the neighboring kingdom’s king, who had been crowned long before, yet he had no bride.
You were only a commoner. Some part of you wished you had her place instead. Maybe you’ll be able to pay that debt off—or maybe not even having a debt in the first place…
That wish came true today.
Zayne Li, the princess’s tutor and attendant, had come to your doorstep to serve as the princess’s stand-in while the royal knights searched for her. He confessed that the princess had been captured rather than running away, while the royal council had believed she had fled in fear of marrying a stranger.
You didn’t remember him when you met Emcee. There was only that brown-haired man with striking purple eyes instead. Zayne must be one of her closest confidants to tell that there was someone who looked like her twin, which was you.
You weren’t surprised he had searched your background. He offered to pay half of your parents’ debt when you finished the job, until Emcee was found. You couldn’t believe he was putting his own wealth on the line for the princess’s accident.
You had to take the offer, your key to freedom. Also, living as a princess for a while won’t be so bad…
Right?
“Lady Y/N, please refrain from slouching.”
“Lady Y/N, pay attention when you raise your teacup.”
“Sigh—Lady Y/N.”
Now you know why you weren’t born into royalty.
You only grinned sheepishly. Zayne was at his wits' end. He’s been teaching you princess etiquette all day and night. It’s still your third day. There is a week before the neighboring ambassador returns to see whether the princess has been found.
“I’m sorry, a princess isn’t turned overnight.” You sighed, taking off your gloves. You still weren’t used to wearing them. It was to hide the scars from endless sewing and stitching. Zayne was kind enough to apply some expensive ointment to smooth the skin.
“I am well aware. Please practice these habits. We will get to your dining etiquette once more tomorrow. The lesson is over for tonight.” Zayne said, taking your gloves and placing them in their place.
“Can I ask a question, Mr. Li?” you asked, straightening your posture as he walked past to tidy up the practice items. Several books have been used to train your balance and the cutlery for dining etiquette.
“Of course, and you may just call me Zayne.” He reminded you, glancing at you. “...I am not higher in social standing than yours.”
There’s that look again. The look of longing. Maybe it was because your features are similar to the princess's.
Did he like the princess? He has been the princess’s long confidant, after all, being her tutor—or did you misunderstand?
“Why must Her Highness be wedded? She didn’t want to be wed, as I’ve heard her woes when I met her.” It was an innocent question, yet Zayne seemed worked up about the question.
“The kingdom is on the verge of bankruptcy. The princess needs to wed to earn financial support from our neighboring kingdom… it is her responsibility as a royal.” Zayne explained, pouring tea for both of you.
“If the princess is not back by the end of the week, they will cancel the royal wedding.”
He still eyed your movements—to take sugar, to stir your tea, to drink—it was all for the kingdom’s future. Your act will determine whether they believe the princess is back.
“...You love her, don’t you?”
The question made him still, eyes averting elsewhere. You wondered if it hurt him to see you, a stranger who looks like her, sitting in her spot and wearing her clothes. It must be hard on him to have his lover gone—what if she really ran away?
“...It’s getting late. Get enough rest. We’ll continue our lesson in the morning.”
You watched as Zayne went out. Staring at the thick book he left for you, you groaned inwardly, trying to get the last of your brain juices to absorb these etiquettes.
Thank goodness for the maids’ miraculous hands. They can cover the bags under your eyes from memorizing the princess etiquette.
“...I hope you have slept, Lady Y/N.” Zayne deadpanned the moment he saw you. You only shrugged—still straightened, pointing at the thick book.
“Then let’s put that to the test.”
It wasn’t perfect, but there was improvement. You didn’t spill a drop from placing the sugar. You had mostly straightened your back, whether standing or sitting, and you were able to maintain eye contact with him. He could see the smugness dripping from your face.
“Great job. Here is your reward.” Zayne acknowledged it by bringing a lidded tray. He took off the lid, letting you examine the treat.
Thick almond cookies sandwiched together, you saw his eyes sparkle at the treat—why is he the excited one?
“Try some.”
You took a bite while keeping your manners—you wouldn’t want him to bite back. It was sweet, crumbled right through your mouth—gosh, to eat something like this every day.
“This is delicious,” you commented, taking another one. “Compliments to the patisserie chef.”
Zayne only chuckled, taking a seat across from you, partaking in the treats. “You will see the Queen tonight. She needs to see with her own eyes that her daughter came back.”
You almost dropped your precious cookie into the tea. Your test is coming sooner than you thought.
“You will do just fine. Raise your chin. You are a princess.”
You are a princess.
You wished it were true.
Zayne stayed behind you at all times, providing your support—read, pressure—while you dined with the Queen. Your back was sweating, and you could feel his glare intensifying when you almost picked the wrong spoon.
Conversing with the Queen was no big deal. It seemed she didn’t really know her daughter’s interests or hobbies, or rather, she hadn’t realized because she lost her spectacles. It was all laughs before she departed after indulging in her dessert.
“Remember your duty for the kingdom, darling.”
Those were her last words before she retreated for the night. If Emcee really ran away for her freedom, you wouldn’t really blame her.
Just as Zayne helped you up to lead you back to the princess’s bedroom, a man in armor blocked your way. You staggered backwards, bumping into Zayne, who only sighed and held both your arms.
“Damn… she does look like Emcee.” You remembered this guy, the one who accompanied the princess when she went to town.
“Back off, Caleb,” Zayne said, slightly moving you behind him.
Caleb only raised his hands in surrender. “No need to get defensive, just looking at her closer…”
His eyes moved towards you. A dangerous glint flashed—oh, he doesn’t like you. He moved past you with a warning whisper.
“You’re still nothing like her. Remember your place, pauper.”
Ooh, yeah. He doesn’t like you.
You didn’t realize Zayne had already brought you to your room. Still stunned by whatever that was—it wasn’t like you’d be staying here forever. Even you knew that.
You were temporary, and you knew that.
“...Does he like—ya know, threatening mental welfare?”
“...You could say that. He hit his head when he was young.” You waited for his small chuckle to see if he was joking, but Zayne was serious as ever.
You were about to move on until he continued. “He woke up on Her Highness’s lap. He thinks she’s an angel—his savior until now.”
You raised a brow. That’s a serious issue to the point of inducing delusion. You were about to move on from the topic, but he still had something to say.
“Unfortunately, the stone wasn’t hard enough.”
“Wait—huh?”
“Mmh, it’s unfortunate.”
“Zayne, are you messing with me?”
Zayne sighed, crossing his arms. “Mmh, unfortunately.”
It was your turn to sigh until you didn’t know which part he was messing with you. “Wait, which part of it is unfortunate?!”
Zayne didn’t elaborate, hiding his chuckle as you pestered him for the truth about the accident. Which one was true, he never told you.
Did it drive you crazy? Yes. You are now frazzled and confused. You’ll get Zayne next time—
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
It was another day, and the neighboring kingdom’s ambassador was back to see the princess. He brought attendants—were they twins?
Your eyes blinked at the ambassador they sent. This guy looked like he laughed out of money—he must be paid well, or maybe he’s just a wealthy noble.
“The royal wedding will ensue, it seems.” Skye, the ambassador, nodded. The attendants were dismissed to write a report to send back to their kingdom.
You felt sweat budding on your back the second time since the interaction with the Queen. This guy’s eyes looked discerning. What if he finds out you’re a fake?
“Is there something you need, sir?” You remembered to keep your chin up, which earned an amused gaze from the man.
“Why, yes. As the ambassador, I must see further if the princess is suitable for our… king.” Skye hummed, taking steps closer.
You held your ground, nodding. “Very well, let us have tea in the garden.”
Looking at Zayne for confirmation, he only nodded, instructing the maids to prepare the place.
Well, walking like a princess for more than an hour hurts your back. You’ve been gripping the front of your skirt to keep your composure. You try your best to answer all his questions about—uh, the garden, which you totally wing.
“May I ask a question, Mr. Qin?” you asked, indulging yourself in the almond cookies Zayne must have specially requested.
“I must have talked too much. Please do, Your Highness.” Skye nodded. He’s been watching your reactions to his words, then what you eat, what you see—you were hyper-aware of it too.
“Why had the king gone far too another kingdom to find a bride? I mean no offense, but had none of the ladies in your kingdom satisfied him?” you asked out of pure curiosity. What high standards does he have?
He is a king. Surely, the duke’s daughter would be okay in terms of stature.
“The king has not found who he likes. That is all.” Skye easily answered. He had an amused smile.
You raised your brow slightly. Was he much more of a romantic than she thought?
“Then, what makes it certain that the princess—I am someone he likes? We have yet to meet.” You cleared your throat, caught off guard. Caleb’s words were drilled well—you can’t refer to yourself as the princess.
“I am his closest aide. I know what he would like.” Skye chuckled.
He wondered if you’d be betrayed to know who he truly is, Skye—or rather, Sylus Qin, the king from the neighboring kingdom.
“I will take your word for it.” A faux smile was on your lips.
You weren’t sure whether you were happy or sad. Would he be disappointed once he knew you weren’t the actual princess?
“It will be time for my… baking lessons, yes. Please excuse me, I wish you a pleasant stay in the palace.” You tried to read Zayne’s lips from afar.
As soon as you stood up, Sylus took your hand, bringing it to his lips as a greeting. You almost pulled your hand away, grinning nervously.
“I will see you again, Your Highness.”
Curtsying one last time. You scurried down the garden path.
“Baking lessons, interesting.” Sylus only watched you run down the road elegantly—at least, tried to. He only let out a small laugh. He’ll need to speak with you more to know who you actually are underneath the title of princess.
On the other hand, you reached Zayne, who was waiting at the end of the road. “Baking lessons, was it?”
Zayne furrowed his brows in confusion, still guiding you back into the palace. “What do you mean? A princess does not bake. You are going to painting lessons.”
“Oh.” You hoped Skye would understand why baking lessons were needed.
“Did you say anything odd?”
“Whatever do you mean? Let us bake—I mean, paint!”
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
As you all wait for Emcee to be found, it’s been almost a week since you met the neighboring kingdom's ambassador. You’ve been on friendly terms with the ambassador, Skye. He’s… interesting.
Do all nobles act this lavishly? Compared to your stiff movements, you can only wince whenever Zayne shakes his head. A great student you are.
Not to mention his sets of suits. As a seamstress, you could tell those fabrics don’t even exist in the madam’s boutique. What is that? Mulberry silk? Belgian linen?
“Like the design, Your Highness?” He noticed your gaze. He always notices everything you do.
It was only the two of you in the garden, underneath the gazebo, for tea. It became an unspoken agreement to sit and drink around this time of day, just to talk and enjoy each other’s presence, or more of you running away from your lessons.
“It is intricate, yes. Is this your finest fabric?” you find yourself asking, eyes still on the trimming of his sleeve.
“Derived from the softest wool. Would you like to touch?” He offered, arm extended.
You inched closer, not missing the opportunity. You may hate working at the madam’s boutique, but learning about fabrics is basically half of your life story. How comfortable it will be when worn, how light it is for the skirt to flow…
“I have heard women love their dresses. I was not aware you would pay close attention to its fabrics.” Skye muses.
You froze in turn. This was not what a princess would do.
You cleared your throat, composing yourself, going back to your seat. “As you said, women love their dresses. Wouldn’t it be great if we could supply your finest materials once our kingdoms are united?”
You gave yourself a pat on the back.
“I applaud you for thinking ahead. I’ll be sure to offer it up to His Majesty.” Skye nodded, noting what you liked. While the fabrics he uses probably aren’t available, given how rare they are, if you meant business supplies for the high society.
“I shall send word to inform that Your Highness has an eye for clothing.” He will at least order a few garments for you to wear, using the high-grade wool that made your eyes sparkle the moment you touched it.
He could imagine you in your wedding dress. He’ll be sure to have the finest material ready for the wedding.
“What about you, Sir Skye? What do you like?” You really did bond with him. He lets you use his first name, or maybe because you were a princess, so he lets you.
Sylus smiled. What does he like? As in Skye? Or as himself? Both should be the same, no?
“Music, I relish hearing orchestras.” What an expensive hobby.
You were jealous. You wished you could watch the opera, yet you couldn’t even buy a ticket with no income. The money from singing in the plaza couldn’t come close. You resolved to hear from outside the building or sneak into the back rooms—it works sometimes.
“I see, it suits you.” It was unexpected. You thought he was more of a political guy—maybe he is, but he doesn’t show it.
“Does it? You must love hearing songs too to hire a songstress to your room.”
You almost spit out your tea. Scandalized. He passed by your room? Now, why would he?
The last time you sang was in the bathroom with your bubble bath—so much for a palace’s soundproof walls.
You squinted your eyes at him. He may be hot, but you forgot he might be a red flag—a creep at that. You hadn’t recalled that his quarters were near yours either.
“Of course! Music is one of my interests.” Just smile, you weren’t lying anyway to be an enjoyer of music.
You love music. Except that songstress was you, singing to your dove, who usually perched on your window whenever you sang. You had a habit of opening the window for her to fly in.
“Pray tell, who is that songstress? We should hire her for the wedding.” Skye asked, drinking his tea. He doesn’t get the slightest clue it was you.
Well, wasn’t this a good opportunity? While Emcee and the king get married, you will be singing for them. Just imagine how much money you’ll make by singing at a royal wedding.
“She is my personal songbird—and I’m afraid she is a little shy. It would need time for her to get ready to sing in front of such a crowd.” You smiled, lying your way through.
“I see. Do leave a message that His Majesty would love to listen to her sing.”
Oh, you definitely will.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
Just one tiny little problem… You can’t sing freely now.
“There is the palace greenhouse if you are ever bored. You can ask someone to bring you there sometimes. Rest well.” Zayne informed you before leaving for the night. He came by to report on the princess search, and you appreciate that he is keeping you updated.
You immediately went to the greenhouse after he said it with a bag of seeds. Donned in your sleeping gown, a robe wrapped around you to keep you warm. Your dove came along, hearing you hum all the way.
“How come you’re always around at this hour? Did you memorize my schedule?” you asked the dove, who only cooed. You shrugged at the response you couldn’t decipher, smiling, “At least I have a friend here.”
The dove cooed happily as you entered the greenhouse.
The smell of flowers wafted. Flowers were in every corner of the greenhouse. The most flowers you’ve seen were at the florist beside the madam’s boutique before living in the palace.
You sat on one of the benches, just enjoying the calm evening and releasing a few of your melodies. Another bird flew in, and you watched as it interacted with your dove.
“Hm? You have an owner?”
A black crow… with a band on one of its legs, a shiny one at that!
It’s avoiding the seeds. Maybe you should bring peanuts too—what do crows even eat?
While you thought, it cawed around you. You raised a brow, showing your hands. “No, I don’t have anything else aside from seeds.”
Instead, it placed… a bracelet.
You squinted. Are these actual gemstones? Little dark red rubies decorating the golden chain—how much is this worth? Surely more than your salary could ever give, ha.
“You’re giving this to me?” Still in disbelief, you point to yourself, then to the bracelet. You think the crow just sighed. It was definitely looking at you like you’ve grown two heads.
While you were busy admiring the accessory, your dove was actively backing away from the crow, cooing defiantly. They’re just going in circles right now.
Oh, does the princess actually have a secret admirer who exchanges letters with this crow?
“You know, sorry to burst your bubble. But I’m not the actual princess right now,” you quietly said, placing the bracelet around the crow’s head, who cawed in confusion.
Yet you only placed it back on your lap before it flew away.
You exchanged glances with your dove. She was worked up from the wooing of the crow. Holding the bracelet, you started to walk back to your room.
Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to hold on to it for a while.
“Are you sure you gave it to the songstress? Not the princess.”
The crow, Mephisto, perched on his owner’s arm, only tilted his head. Sylus stood at the entrance of the garden. It was by chance that he saw you walking towards the greenhouse. He was planning to let Mephisto go and hand this bracelet to the songstress.
At first, he paid no mind to you. His goal was to find the songstress, so he could surprise you with the singer you love for the wedding. Yet Mephisto flew towards you. He furrowed his brows, following him down the path.
That’s when he heard the voice—your voice, quiet, yet the same singing voice he heard when passing by your room. He hadn’t recognized that you were the one singing that day.
“Birds of a feather, hm?” he muttered, hearing the lyrics of your song, probably singing to your only two audience. It made him chuckle slightly, singing about birds to two birds.
There was no mistake now. It was you whom he was seeking.
He knew you were different from the second time he came back to the kingdom. Sure, you looked similar to the princess, but you were not the princess.
How did he know? A sliver of your actual hair color was out while you were having tea with him. The specks of light reflecting in your eyes were different from hers, in the way you speak and sit. It was all different.
There was no fooling Sylus. While it was brief when he met the actual princess, the difference was prominent to him. The princess loves her knight. She didn’t want to marry a stranger—her eyes were already on another.
Yet you, the slight fear was held in your eyes, from making mistakes and being caught. Survival—it was what he had seen in you. It didn’t take long for him to find out you were only a seamstress at the boutique downtown, courtesy of his twins—your interest in fabrics was the final proof.
The lunch to further plan the wedding will come soon, and the prime minister will finally join after being busy.
“Just a little more.”
It was what both of you had hoped for. A little more to get closer to freedom.
your mental health tanked after Sylus left for a business trip, with the world heavy on your shoulders and no motivation to do anything, you wake up to your beloved dragon tending and reassuring you
Everything felt heavy. Your limbs were glued to your bed, your head felt numb, your brain had no motivation. You felt lifeless, tired. You pulled your blankets tighter to you as you squeezed your eyes harder. Everything had piled up, one on top of the other, pushing yourself to your limit. You wanted everything to stop. You convinced yourself you were disgusting, undeserving, and worthless. You were no better than roadkill. Your head was riddled with awful thoughts.
You heard small clinks on your window, but you made no effort to look up or shoo Mephisto away. Deep down, you wished Sylus would come, but he was away on a business trip, and your mental health kept spiraling.
꒰ঌ♡⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
You softly groan as you hear a familiar humming, your neck twisting as you slowly pry open your eyes. Sylus is standing by your bedside, his ruby eyes scanning you, a gentle smile on his face. His hand carefully cups your cheek, brushing over dried tear streaks.
“Sweetie, I’m here.” Sylus engulfs you in a hug as the weight of everything comes crashing down on you. You can’t hold back your sobs as you crumble in his arms, burying your face in his chest, his warmth and comfort. Sylus pulls you into his lap, shielding you from the world. Sylus rubs your back up and down, peppering kisses along your neck and shoulders, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.
Shhh, it’s okay, sweetie.
I’m never leaving you again.
It’s okay to cry.
I’m proud of you for being so strong.
You’re doing a great job.
You poor thing, how can I make you feel better?
Eventually, your sobs dissolve into hiccups, your chest starts to feel less tight, and your head feels a little clearer. Sylus watches you diligently, wiping your tears before they’re able to fall and delicately kissing your eyes. He picks up a nearby glass of warm milk, holding it to your lips. You force yourself to take a couple of sips, the warmth soothing your dry throat. You give him a small smile in thanks, turning your head back into his chest, wanting to be engulfed in him once more. Sylus makes no protest as he readjusts his grip around you, pulling you even closer to him.
“I’m here if you want to talk, and I’m here if you don’t want to.” Sylus kisses your forehead. You aren’t ready, not yet. You squeeze your boyfriend a little tighter. Sylus continues to hum softly, tracing circles along your back, filling the silence and warding off the negative thoughts and voices.
꒰ঌ♡⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
“Sy…” you nervously speak up after a while, your voice small and muffled in his shirt.
“Hm?” He doesn’t stop his soothing actions. You shift slightly, pressing your cheek against his chest, no longer smushing your face. You take one of his free hands and start to fidget with it, hoping to distract yourself.
Before you even speak, you feel more tears welling in your eyes. Sylus’s brows furrow in concern; his heart aches, wishing he could do more for you. He doesn’t push you; instead, he places another kiss on your head, reminding you that he’s here.
“I’m sorry you have to deal with me. I-I don’t even know why. I can’t do anything right. I can’t even survive a few stupid days without feeling pathetic. I don’t deserve you or anything. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t even know why you bother with me.” The words, or rather your truth, come out before you’re even able to stop yourself. All of your negative thoughts come pouring out. You take a breath.
“I… I would hate myself too,” you add quietly, retreating back into his chest. Sylus’ heart falls as a frown deepens on his lips.
You finally said it. This is when he’s going to leave you. This is when this fairytale ends. You can’t fool him anymore. There’s no reason he would ever stay, ever love someone like you. There is something wrong with you, and there was no way he could ever want someone like that.
“Sweetie…” he tries to coax you from his chest. When you don’t budge, instead soaking his chest with more tears, Sylus lets you be, instead hoping you’ll hear him.
“My love, I don’t know who put these thoughts into your mind, but they aren’t the truth. I value you more than any treasure in the world. You are my world. I don’t deal with you; you are my partner, the one I love and adore. I want to be here, through every victory or any dreary Monday. I will stand by your side, supporting you, helping you, holding you through anything. My love for you is not fragile. No matter what life throws at us, I will be by your side. I swore to never leave you, and I don’t plan on breaking it. I profoundly and unconditionally love you now, then, and forever on. Every moment of my life is spent dedicated to you. You are deserving of everything divine in this world, Kitten. It is an honor to be able to love you and hold you so closely. In every lifetime, undeniably, I will always find my way back to you, my Huntress. Please heed my words and do not get them twisted. I love you and you only, my dear beloved socceress, in every shape, way, and form. No matter who you were, are, and will become, I love, accept, and cherish you fully. No matter what happens or how long it has been, my love for you will constantly burn. Do not let fallacious statements sway your mind, for I love you, my sweetest Kitten.” Sylus presses a kiss to your cheek, nipping it slightly. Sylus’ chest burns, warming your wet face. You finally lift your head, new tears streaming from your face, happy, grateful ones.
“Do you really mean it?” Your voice cracks as a smile threatens to break from your lips.
“Always, my dear. Stay by my side until the end of time. For there is no love purer than mine.” Your smile matches his gentle one. He leans down, finally able to plant a kiss on the lips he’s longed for for eternity.
a/n: hi!! this is my first ever fic! i hope u like it ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
This fic is dedicated to my own sylus, ironic because I call her Kayleb. She’s there for me whenever i need her, always there to pick me up and support me along my journey. I wouldn’t be here or be where i am without her. Im incredibly lucky to have such a kind friend by my side. To my Kayleb-Sylus, I love you, thank you for loving me in my entirety, you deserve the world
｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
This fic was also inspired by another sylus comfort fic by @myntrose! It was so comforting and just what I needed to motivate myself to write this one ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗
i wrote this fic because i convinced myself I was undeserving of sylus’ love. You are so worthy of being loved by sylus or any li!! They love you for you and have loved, longed, and searched for you for eternity. No matter what happens, they will love every form of you! Whether you think you’re too weak or there’s something wrong with you or there’s no way they could ever love you, they do, and they do it with every ounce of their being. You are their reason to live and the thing they search for. They are incomplete without you.
I also wrote this because i was having a really awful day, struggling with mental health. Along with everything i said above, no matter what your mental health convinces you to believe, you are so worth love and are deserving of everything good, especially the boys’ love, and it is okay to be struggling!!! The boys will help support and love you through every moment of it. I am so so so proud of you, and i know they are too. Im so happy you’re here and alive and i, people who love you, and the boys care about you. Please, everyone, take care of yourself and give yourself some love <3 🫂
