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โI bet that.. thing steals themโ
โThe tarts.โ The womanโs stern eyes flickered towards yours, groomed red eyebrows scrunched and her plum-red lips snarled, completing the mosaic of disgust on her face. โHonestly, does it even realize how horrible those things are for you?โ She huffed, eyes trained on the approaching maid.
โThe nerve of it. Bringing those pastries out here to us on your wedding day.โ She scuffed. Sipping her tea like she didn't just criticize the approaching maid. With a wobbly smile, she set down the tower of sweets between you.
Red and purple macarons spiraled around the tall platter like vines warped around an old tower. You couldnโt deceive yourself. They looked scrumptious. The ripples at the edge of each cookie acted like a curtain for the pastel buttercream that peeked from each saturated cookie shyly. Reminding you of newborn chicks breaking through their eggs on a warm, breezy spring day.
You tightened your grip on your dress, grounding yourself to not give into the temptations of the brightly colored sweets and causing another war, sevens forbid you offended your future mother-in-law before you even stepped foot in the chapel.
A small โAnything else miladies?โ was heard, your attention ripped from the cookies and brought back to the maid. With pristine white gloves, Mrs.Rosehearts shooed her away, the side eye that peaked over her teacup was enough to make the poor girl squeal and scurry away like a rat.
If Mrs. Rosehearts's reputation didnโt strike fear into her, then the comments she definitely overheard did. She was never a quiet woman, especially when mad.
You sent the made a pitying glance as she scampered back to her mouse, family who crowded around her, worried whispers and comforting touches not enough to bring the color back into her face.
โIf it steals anymore, itโll burst!.. ghastly thing.โ Mr.s Rosehearts hissed. The tone of her voice did not match the gentleness she used to place her teacup on its saucer. Shaking her head disapprovingly, she unbuttoned the bottom part of her glove, plucking each fingertip until her hand was free.
With a loud and precise snap, butlers in long red penguin suits stepped from their stone perches and snatched the treats away. A butler with slicked-back gray hair, a pointed mustache, and sharp facial features stepped to her side naturally. Unlike the others, he wore a black penguin suit and held a golden pocket watch. Flicking it open to reveal its dreadful ticks.'
She scowled at him, mumbling something about time. Though her signature look disappeared like a leaf in the wind as she snapped her head to you, smiling cheerfully she asked. โSee? isnโt that better? Chin up It is for the best. I would not want you poisoned hours before your wedding. All that sugarโ. She shivered, almost sounding sympathetic. But her unwavering gaze told you the truth as she snapped again.
You started mumbling again, no doubt promising to have a word with the chefs, though you stayed quiet, opting to instead let your eyes roam over the butler who stood like a pin as his subordinates weaved around him. Never once acknowledging you or his master's ramblings.
Once the table was barren, a large platter of triangle sandwiches and assorted fruits replaced the evil sweets. โI had them prepare fruits and cucumber sandwiches with goat cheese, black pepper, and whole grain bread in case of just an occurrenceโ She tutted as she puffed her chest.
you looked to the butler again, who now held a pair of thongs as another one sped away.
The more you looked at her happily eating her sandwich, the more you couldnโt get the image of her posing in clad armor atop a mountain of defeated sweets. Sword held high and glistening in the rays of dawn, with a war flag waving erratically in the wind as it hovered atop a candy citizen.
And the more you thought of it, the symbol that was etched on the flag didn't look like a crest, but more like a detailed sewing of a cucumber sandwich.
You glanced behind the peacocking redhead to the hedges to where the red-coats disappeared. One, in particular, held the creamy macaroons hostage as he turned the corner and into the maze, back to where he sprang out of. You could only wish the macarons luck once they were fully out of view. Your stomach roared in anguish once both of them left your sight.
You held back a sigh, pushing your desires to the back of your mind. Logic taking over as you knew she was only trying to help. Making sure you got a light, yet nutritious meal before being fitted into your already tight, breathtaking (in a literal sense) wedding gown. Making sure there was no room for anxiety or sudden churns of your stomach if the macarons decided to spring a mutiny against you. She looked out for you like that, making sure you kept a royal physique that was fit for a future queen and wife.
You bit into the sandwich, thanking the great sevens she wasnโt the one you were marrying as she was already happily (?) married. You slowed your chewing when you thought about your fiance.
They were two peas in a pod. Extremely uptight, serious, and have a history of high blood pressure. Always stressing about rules, punishments, and orders. If it was written on paper then it was the law, no if and or butts. Albeit, Riddle allowed you the weekly macaron, so he wasnโt as bad.
โOh y/n, dear, you have a crumb on the bottom of your lip.โ Snapping your eyes up towards her worried ones. You hadnโt even realized you had scarfed down almost all of the sandwich. A tiny chunk of crumb on your lips stands as evidence of the slaughter. You thanked her as the butler cleaned it for you.
โYouโre going to be queen in a few hours, so you should start acting like one.โ She gave you a once over.
Placing the kerchief down, you nodded. โOf course, my mistakeโ
You reached for your Earl Gray. Sipping it eagerly to avoid her scrutinizing gaze.
"Tell me, have you been in the gardens recently?"
You nodded softly "..Just yesterday I stopped by for a quick visit, admiring the new roses we had the gardener plant."
You couldn't hide the droplet of sweat that dripped down your neck, sliding across your trapezius and finding a home in your collarbone. You couldn't tell if you were catching up or being scolded.
Your limbs felt springy like energy was flowing through them that made you want to run, dance, and jump around. But like always, you suppressed that urge. Pushing it down until you couldn't feel the uncomfortable tingles anymore. When the thoughts of bursting like a balloon (in the literal sense), were finally gone, you once again forced yourself back to reality.
โMy dear you seem distracted todayโ placing her hand on the table, like a dog to a whistle you immediately clasped hers. The feeling of leather rubbing against your skin tickled your palm, but you stayed still.
โJust excited about the weddingโ
You were a horrible liar, and the shaky sigh she let out proved it.
Caressing the back of your hand, she said โTry not to daydream anymore, Iโve known too many" She hesitated "great soldiers, artisans, nobles- you name it! Lose their wit, ambition, livelihoods, and lives because they couldnโt get out of their head. You are to be queenโ she squeezed your hand. โAnd queens are meant to be on the ground, with their kingdoms. Not in the clouds. I only say this because I care about you, not just because youโre my future daughter and law and queen of Pomefiore. But because you're an intelligent woman that will make for a historic queen. Just, don't sabotage yourself, okay? You need to grow up and stop playing around, okay darling?โ
You nodded, forcing your lips to stay neutral as you felt your heart bubble at the compliments, about how grateful you were to have someone cares for you, someone who looks out for you so like her.
And she was right, imagining things were for children and playing was for children. Dressing like a queen and being a queen were two separate things.
And it was about time you stopped playing dress-up.
The clock struck ten which concluded tea time. Red butlers once again appeared from thin air to take care of the platters of food as Mrs.Rosehearts pulled you in for kisses.
โRemember dearโ She whispered โFor the kingdomsโ you nodded, finally allowing yourself to smile at her, practiced and regal before you were ushered away by handmaids and tailors. Squawking around you like birds.
โI entrust morning tea with the Admiral went well?โ
โSwimminglyโ You responded as a lean stature swooped in next to you, the click of his high heels matched his long strides. Yet he managed to always stay one step behind you.
โOh? Did you not enjoy the macarons Clover Bakery sent? They are in charge of the baking and if they are no good then will have our chefs cater the wedding.โ He teased. The small smirk carved on his face not wavering from the glare you shot him.
โCome now, let's get you all relaxed and situated in your room. We donโt need a bridezilla now do we?โ You huffed, smiling lightly at him โYou think my father will let me live if I were?โ โYouโre rightโ His smirk melted into a smile amethyst eyes glittering in the sunlight that slipped through the windows.
The trip to your room was filled with silent gossip as you told him all about the morning tea party. You felt like an assassin talking in code, taking a moment to think of each sentence before you spoke. You knew no matter how quietly you talked there will always be shadows listening.
Once escorted to your room, you were stripped and placed into the bubble bath Vil prepared for you. The freestanding bathtub was supported by golden legs that complimented the deep purples and ebony blacks that accented the royal bathroom.
Soapy, transparent bubbles float out of the tub like balloons at a festival. You were never not fascinated by the rainbow webs and stripes that decorated some of the bubbles. It had you transfixed, one landing softly on your nose like a butterfly on a rose petal. You stilled, holding your breath not wanting the soapy butterfly to pop out of existence, you stared at its blue-tinted rainbows. mesmerizing every color pattern it had- until you were awakened from your trance when Vil dumped a bucket of soapy water over your head.
Once you were out of the tub, Vil and the team of maids pampered you like a prized pig. You constantly had some kind of mask or cucumber treatment on your face as your nails were filed, eyebrows plucked and darken, and lipstick shades applied and reapplied. Vil was the overseer of it all. Stopping a maid if he noticed even the smallest thing wrong before carefully (yet sternly) guiding her back in the right direction.
As more and more hands touched, caressed, and skimmed your face and body the hotter you felt. An uncomfortable heat latched onto your back, slowly making its way around your body and to your shoulders and chest. Though you didnโt worry too much about the heat, thinking about how itโd disappear once the hands disappeared, and youโve dealt with worse ie; your fatherโs lectures.
Yet once the hands and busybodies vanished and all was silent; the heated warmth was still there. This time it encased your whole body with a headache and fatigue joining the symphony.
You glanced nervously in the mirror, staring at Vil whose back was turned to you. His white blazer was spotless, perfect even. The black button-down he wore with it contrasted beautifully with his features.
Clearing your throat, you focused on yourself. As regal as he looks, heโll have to change for the wedding unless people mistake him for your groom.
โYouโve been awfully quiet ever since we got back to your room, your highnessโ Like a shadow he stood behind you, startling you a bit as your eyes frantically went to his.
You forgot how light his footsteps were. And he knows how easy you startle.
Familiar white gloves hover over your shoulders before they made contact with the dark purple robe you were wearing. He lowered his head until it was next to yours.
โVilโ You sighed. Letting go with a soft chuckle, your ear felt colder with the absence of his breath. Yet your heart fluttered faster from the taboo action.
โI apologize for that, your highness, you merely looked tense so I assumed a little teasing would relax your nervesโ He drawled out, hands behind his back as he fixed his position behind you. He knew better than to pull a stunt likeโฆ that. Then again, he was your royal advisor for five-plus years. So you gave him the benefit of the doubt as you sighed, moving to put your head in your hands when you heard a throat clear behind you. Flicking your head up you met his gaze in the mirror again. Sending him a sheepish smile as you recalled the tortuous process you just survived.
โIf you're stressed you know Iโm an open ear, correct?โ You sighed, touching your tight, pulled-back hair, eyeing him, he nodded. โYes Vil, I know and Iโm thankful for it, trulyโ You turned to face him, fixing your robe. โBut I donโt know what Iโm currently feeling. Excitement, anticipation, nervousness, fervor? Iโm unsure what word I can use to describe it.."
You stopped talking when Vil dropped the back of your chair, swirling it around so you could face him. Leather gloves reach out to touch your face yet swerve to your shoulder at the last minute. He gave you a gentle squeeze before sending you a smile of reassurance.
โI know youโre a bit overwhelmed right now. Getting married is scary- and not only that but Riddle is going to have his big promotion later this week and youโre having your coronation ceremony as well. I know it's a lot, and I understand. Weโve been together since we were toddlers, and Iโm so proud of how much youโve blossomed into the amazing young woman you are today. You are Y/N Crewel, daughter of the 7th King of Pomefiore and the only heir to the throne. Youโll soon have armies to command and laws to make which might make you feel lonely at times, but I want you to remember that I will always be by your side. And whenever you shall need meโฆ Just let me know.โ
You nodded, heart fluttering at his kind smile. Just looking at his soft smile and warm eyes calmed your pounding head. You felt your spirits start to rise at Vilโs little pep talk. A warmth spreads faster through your chest as you are reminded how much he cares. About how well you knew him and him you. About how he would always know what you were thinking. And always knew how to get you out of a rut. You were glad he was your right hand, and you hoped it stayed that way.
Youโre not the first to admit you fantasized about what being married to Vil was like. He was a beautiful, high-ranking noble who was hand-picked by King Crewel himself to be your royal advisor. Yet here he was, with no mistress or harem attached to his arm and no ring on his finger. You even joked with your father about marrying him when you were little. Growing sad when your father would always tell you that โit wasnโt that simple.โ
Though a few times you brought up the notion of marriage to him he either brushed you off or said he was waiting til he was settled in the palace. You never pressed for more as Vil would usually bite his lip and squint, silently telling you he didnโt want to talk about it. No matter.
โThank you Vil, I appreciate the kind sentiments, but Iโm fine, truly fineโ You spoke, forcing your brain to no longer linger on Vil. Filling your mind with your red-headed fiance, in a red-tailored suit, hair brushed to the side as he smiled- genuinely. The kind that made your eyes disappear and your nose crinkle, the kind that showed off your gums and teeth. The one that you wish there to be no photographic evidence of as it showed off so much vulnerability. Showing the world a side of you you keep close and guarded. You yearned to see him smile the way he smiled when you accepted his proposal.
It was quick yet impactful, and the thing that made you truly fall for him.
โYou seemed distracted, is everything alright?โ Once again rescuing you from your mind's palace, Vil was now staring at you from across the room, a makeup pallet in each hand. โYes Vil, everything is alright. Though now that you mention it, Iโve been feeling ratherโฆ hot latelyโ
โOh, sevens forbid you to have a feverโ He sighed, rushing quickly to your side. Taking off his glove, he quickly brought his hand to your forehead, eyes shut as he concentrated. He tsked, swatting his hand away before turning tail to the door.
Hesitantly, you placed your hand on the same spot as his, gasping at the sudden heat
โYou have a fever, your highness. Iโm off to get a cold compress and water to combat itโ He opened the door before doubling back.
โPleaseโ He begged softly, โDonโt do anything or go anywhere. If you must, lay down- but make sure not to smudge or ruin any of my hard work, okay?โ
โIโm fine, Vil! Truly! I donโt need to lay downโ You huffed as Vil reminded you that he never said you had to, and that he merely suggested it. Though with the slam of the door and the fading of his high heels, the more enticing your bed looked.
The fluffed, plum-purple duvet with crimson silk pillows looked too cozy to ignore. Thinking of the restless night you had due to your stomach churning with butterflies. And well, Vil suggested you lay down.
So it was perfectly alright if you did.
When you got up from your chair, everything started happening at once. The world started dimming as you felt your legs weaken. The grip you had on your vanity was non-existent as you buckled to your knees.
You were just tired from all the thinking, you thought. You just needed another cup of Vilโs Earl Grey to get you back into the swing of things, you thought. Youโre being dramatic, another voice sneered, saying you should stop wobbling all over the place and stand tall. Prove that youโre okay and take a rest in your bed as Vil told you to.
Your heart pounded in a single, hard thump, the intensity of it rocking your core. You stood up straight, drunkenly closing in on your bed before another thump caused your feet to stagger. It was like your heart and brain traded places. The blood that would flow to your heart was now flowing to your ears as they too thumped.
Did your lungs collapse? Why was it hard to breathe? Why were you so weak? You were never an ill child, the palace physician kept you up to royal standards thanks to your father's watchful eye. Was this your sin for good health?
Or was this some little cold were being over dramatic about, dramatizing this for attention? Vil, where was Vil? He said he'd be there for you yet you can't remember the door ever opening. You couldn't remember if you tried calling for him, but when you tried, your tongue felt heavy and your jaw fell slack.
You were never too religious, but you couldn't think that this was some divine punishment for thinking about another man hours before your wedding. Would it end if you called for Riddle instead? Would he even come if you called? If he came, would he run to you with that cute worried expression he would always have when the physician told him of that day's adventure? Or would he call you over dramatic, telling you to brush it off when he was in the presence of his mother or your mother.
You were a few steps closer to your bed. Thighs locking up and shutting down for the day as you were forced on your hands and knees. You were so close to your bed, your manicured nail shakily reached out toward the soft duvet.
How unbecoming, that familiar snide voice teased, its voice echoing through your mind in a sudden stillness. Future queen on her hands and knees because of a cold, pathetic. Youโve been through worse so how come youโre letting some illness take hold of you? Youโre a future Rosehearts and queen of Pomefiore. Youโre better than thisโฆ
Yet, you succumbed to the quiet embrace of death as your arms gave out and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. A soft groan escaped your lips as you finally collapsed on the floor, inches away from your bed.
