Fantasy Intertwining Kingdoms (Closed)

[freakie]

The woman noticed that he almost smiled and she felt glad he didn’t take her teasing to heart too much. She rubbed her arm as the cold chill finally pricked her skin.

The pinky only made her let out a small smile, she was content that he took small gestures to her that maybe they could make this work for their people. Listening to the plan she hummed softly still holding her arms before she heard him declare his intent. Her eyes widened slightly only to soften as she breathed out some.

Slowly her pinky wrapped around his “You are my husband now. I will support you and hold you up”She promised back not wanting him to feel the burden of this alone. She had never had to feel or think for someone else before, she knew now to take care with her words and actions to make sure they could actually be happy.

”we are being missed. I don’t want to return but we are yet to dance.”She admitted some as she tucked some hair behind her ear “You know..If you hadn’t of said anything earlier. I would have kissed you….you are not all bad.”She couldn’t help but let her own personality through. She was sharp tongued, strong and could make any general blush.

She held out her hand to be taken back inside before she caught a cold out here.

 

[Axty]

Archie felt heat rise to his cheeks at her comment, something small and unexpected tugging at his chest. He quickly brought his hand up to his face, as if rubbing his temple could somehow hide the faint blush blooming across his skin. It was ridiculous—he’d faced down warlords and held dying men in his arms, and yet a few kind words from Florence made him feel like a flustered schoolboy.

She extended her hand to him again—quietly, without fanfare—and this time, he took it without hesitation.

There was no grand romantic gesture, no forced theatrics. Just a simple, genuine touch.

His fingers closed around hers with the same quiet care he had shown before. Then, without a word, he gently led her back toward the ballroom. The sounds of the celebration had returned to full bloom—music swelling from the hands of the finest musicians in both Kaeloria and Aranthia. It was a song of union, of truce, of change.

As they stepped back inside, hand in hand, it felt like the first moment neither of them was walking alone.

Not entirely.

 

[freakie]

Florence noticed her charms worked the same on him and it helped her feel comfortable. This was not some god or diety this was a human man who simply was doing his best. She hummed softly as he entwined their hands and she was glad. As much as the promised to be true behind closed doors she was still trying to show signs of unity with this gesture.

She wanted to feel close to him still even when they had to play pretend. She walked with him and once she heard the music she knew that it was all in full swing. She actually found herself enjoying the night with him. Her father retired early just before there dance.

“We are to end tonight. How fitting”She whispered to her husband as they clapped for the young couple to take the floor. Florence taking his hand as this time she lead him out onto small clearing. The guests awaited eagerly as the music started and for the first time they had to be closer.

“Just this dance then we can escape“She whispered again to him but she was somewhat excited that they could do this. She following his lead their bodies closer and she wrapped her arm around his back but kept it there to not initiate anything more than he may be comfortable with.

As they spun she smiled genuinely, as much as she loved the outdoors and the wild nature within her she also took pleasure in the hobbies of being A lady. It was even better now the two had an understanding between them.

 

[Axty]

Archie held Florence’s hand with a gentle tension, the kind that came from sheer focus rather than comfort. As the music swelled around them and the room blurred into candlelight and chatter, he moved carefully—almost too carefully—like a man stepping across thin ice.


He had practiced for this.


Every night, in the mirror of his chambers. Counting beats under his breath. Turning in awkward little circles, trying to remember what step came next. But practice couldn't prepare him for this. For the weight of eyes on his back. For the soft pressure of Florence's hand in his. For the desperate, irrational fear of stepping on her gown and somehow tearing both their dignity to shreds.


He tried not to show it—he was a prince, after all—but his gaze kept flicking downward, subtly checking his footing as he guided them across the marble floor. One, two, step. One, two—


Gods, please don’t trip.


He thought of his mother then. Of how she used to hum little songs when she brushed his hair as a boy. How she'd promised to teach him to dance someday, when she was stronger, when the coughing stopped. That lesson never came.


And now here I am, he thought bitterly. Trying to fake grace in a room full of liars and diplomats.


And yet—somehow—he kept pace with Florence. She moved with quiet ease, and he followed, not flawlessly, but earnestly. Sincerely.


Every so often, their eyes met. And when they did, the nerves in his chest softened just slightly.


He might not be the perfect dancer.


But in that moment, dancing with her, he wasn’t the prince or the soldier. He was just Archie—trying.


And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

 

[freakie]

It was hard for her to imagine what it was like for the men to dance. She had been taught young by the matron. It was always the case for girls her age in nobility. Florence was more nervous about stepping over the line. Pushing into Archie’s space to much when they were still new. She only wished to keep him comfortable.

But he was a good dancer and it seemed whatever work he’d done had paid off as they put on quite a show. Her smile grew as she noticed his tactics to keep in time and slowly but surely the music ended and she stood close to him and caught her breath.

“Good blessings for the happy couple!” A man shouted as the servants opened the doors. It was their cue to leave and Florence was exhausted after everything today she was looking forward to resting alone. Just as she stepped forward Harold stood in front of them.

“Take great care of each other. I shall visit once you are settled in a couple of months. Your mother sends regards”he spoke of Lyanna. Florence nodded “thank you father. I’ll be in touch”she promised since she was no stranger to a quill. The man leaned down and kissed her forehead for the last time. Glancing at Archibald he stiffened and offered his hand to shake. He was trying. But he knew of this boys father. And he was deeply tense from the idea that his only daughter had to marry him.

Once the goodbye was said Florence got into the carriage and yawned gently covering her mouth. As they tied their bags to the back she simply hummed “I have never felt so tired. My dress was like carrying three sacks of coal around with my ankles”she murmured some to Archie. To simply keep up the good conversation to make sure they didn’t go back on their promise.

 

[Axty]

“Get used to it, princess,” Archie murmured, just loud enough for her to hear over the fading music and chatter behind them. The word rolled off his tongue with a different kind of weight—not stiff with politics or tradition, but laced with dry amusement, like it was a secret joke only the two of them shared.


It wasn’t a title.


It was a nickname.


A tease.


A soft jab with no real malice behind it.


Florence might’ve caught the faint twitch at the corner of his lips—something that, in another world, might’ve grown into a smirk.


He stepped toward the waiting carriage first, his formal boots thudding softly against the step. Then, with one hand already gripping the edge of the door, he turned and extended his other hand to her.


Not just because he was expected to.


But because he wanted to.


His hand waited there, open, steady, palm-up under the soft glow of the carriage lanterns. There was no rush, no pressure—just the quiet invitation of someone who had started, finally, to lean into the role fate had written for him.


And maybe, just maybe, wanted to write a few of his own lines now, too.

 

[freakie]

Florence couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his small tease. She breathed out glad that he was warming up to her somewhat and showing a more genuine side. And she found it more endearing.

“That is rich coming from you. Archduke”she whispered back in the same manner. Remembering how he had correct the earlier proceedings of their marriage. She followed him out and suddenly it started to dawn on her.

Was it excitement? Perhaps. Nerves defiantly. But they would now be alone a whole week. Archie and Florence. To try and think of what that may look like was too much for her to do in her tired state.

Without missing a beat he offered his hand and she observed it. Waiting a brief moment before taking it “thank you” she used his help to get into the carriage and sat down. Wrapping her fur around her to keep warm as she fiddled with her ring.

Much was expected of this couple. The tradition of nobility and heirs. And as she remembered. He had no parents. So their marriage would soon be forgotten for a coronation. To be a princess was one thing but to be queen another.

Having her parents living had allowed her to be naive to it. Always assuming Nero would take the throne and she could relax. But with the way things had occurred she would have to worry about it another day.

 

[Axty]

Archie leaned his head back against the velvet-lined wall of the carriage, the soft thud barely audible over the rhythmic creaking of the wheels. The adrenaline of the day had finally worn off, leaving him in that fragile space between exhaustion and reflection. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, but the weight of everything—of the ceremony, the stares, the dancing, her—still pressed quietly on his chest.


He let out a low, unguarded yawn, rubbing a hand down his face.


“We should both sleep,” he murmured, his voice rougher now, softened by fatigue. “It’s been... a day.”


Then, after a small pause, he added, almost as an afterthought—except it wasn’t.


“I’ll carry you in when we get there.”


His tone wasn’t smug or flirtatious. It was simple. Steady. Like he was offering her warmth without knowing quite how to say you can lean on me if you want to.


The carriage lantern flickered gently, casting warm gold light across the space between them. Archie didn’t move closer—he didn’t want to crowd her. But the fact that he said it at all, unprompted, felt like something.


An offer.


An olive branch.


Maybe even the beginning of comfort.

 

[freakie]

Flo relaxed still and breathed out when they were set away on their journey. Her eyes peeking open as he spoke and she nodded “It is what I am most looking forward to. A new dawn“She reaffirmed. Sleep would mean they could put this behind them and never have to feel that way. At least not for now.

Looking over as he said it so…so confidently. There was no other tone it was a simple gesture and it surprised her still “Ah. I accept. After all it’s another tradition ticked off. Carrying me over the threshold.“She almost smiled at the idea.

To feel him close to her again, their words on the balcony had unlocked her fears and unloaded them both. But that dance had brought something to her that she wasn’t expecting. Warmth.

The looks they gave each other to now it seemed like night and day. She yawned softly as she rested her head to the side wall against the soft interior. Her hands resting on her dress but she could still feel the roughness of his from the times they did touch.

Casting a glow on the space between them, the light reflecting off her skin At some points and warmed her features only for the blonde to feel her eyelids start to flutter. Sleep was gently guiding her in.

 

[Axty]

Archie let his head rest back again, his eyes half-lidded as the carriage rocked gently through the night. The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips—subtle, almost unsure, like it wasn’t used to being there.


But it was real.


If nothing else came from all of this chaos—this ceremony, this alliance born of blood and bitterness—at least he was married to someone who was... beautiful.


Beautiful.


He lingered on the word in his mind like it was something foreign. Something dangerous. He hadn’t let himself think that in years—not since that day.


A memory flickered. One he didn’t welcome. A battlefield. The cold. The smell of iron and smoke. The stillness in a pair of eyes that used to shine.


Since then, the idea of beauty had felt... cruel. Like it was something meant to be destroyed. Something the world couldn’t help but take.


But now, here he was. Glancing across the carriage at Florence—tired, silent, regal even when slouched with exhaustion—and feeling something. Not just obligation. Not just a political truce dressed in silk and gold.


Attraction.


Maybe it was her honesty. The way she didn’t shrink from his outbursts. The way she looked him in the eye and meant what she said. Maybe it was the fact that, for once, he wasn’t pretending.


He liked the quiet moments they shared. The stillness that wasn’t suffocating.

 

[freakie]

Through quiet breaths she did not stir. Her body relaxed and sleeping lightly to allow her mind to wonder. She had not seen the horrors, only the loss and the cries of people. The tolling of the bell to let the townsfolk know that the bodies they could recover were back to be claimed. Buried and mourned.

The sudden holt of the carriage awoke her, she couldn’t believe she had been so relaxed to fall asleep in front of him, her cheeks turning pink at the idea. In another world he would be a fine choice of husband but for them it was tilted with all the past onto them.

”Apolagies I didn’t mean to sleep just now“She murmured before she rubbed her face gently as they knocked on the door. “We are here” they announced some as they started to load their bags into the quaint cottage. Florence peeked her head out before she grinned “It’s actually rather beautiful..“She commented before looking at her husband.

The way his dark strands fell onto his skin, framing those angelic eyes. It was hard for her to ignore. But she knew not to rush certain things and keep steady with him till they were okay. They were allies but they were not yet friends..lovers…

He had promised her to be a husband and she a wife but they still had to carve out what that meant to the other.

She let him leave first and picked up her dress as she stepped down “I am ready to be carried over the threshold..”She was almost sheepish.

 

[Axty]

Archie shifted forward as the carriage came to a slow, shuddering halt. Outside, the manor loomed softly under the pale light of the moon, its windows flickering with the last embers of candlelight. The world felt hushed, suspended—like even the night was holding its breath.

He glanced at Florence—quiet, graceful even in stillness—then gently reached out and took her hand.

There was no ceremony to it. No royal flourish or practiced charm. Just his calloused fingers wrapping around hers with careful intent.

Then, in one smooth, deliberate motion, he slipped his other arm beneath her knees and lifted her into his arms.

Bridal style.

He didn’t rush. Didn’t hesitate. Just held her like she weighed nothing, like carrying her felt natural—right, somehow—even as the world watched from behind curtains and columns.

As he stepped down from the carriage and began walking toward the grand front doors, a hundred thoughts flickered through his mind.

What does this mean for us?

He didn’t know. Not fully. But he knew this: once they crossed that threshold together, they wouldn’t just be Prince Archibald and Princess Florence—symbols of a reluctant peace. They would be husband and wife.

Or at least, they would be expected to be.

The idea of pretending didn’t sit quite as heavy anymore.

Because whatever the future held—awkward conversations, stolen moments, real arguments, or laughter shared under moonlight—he wouldn’t be facing it alone.

He tightened his hold on her just slightly as they reached the steps.

 

[freakie]

Florence felt her breath be taken away as he picked her up so easily. But the gasp wasn’t out of fear more just surprise at his tue strength as she held onto him slightly while being in his arms. Glancing up at him as he began forward and it was still so new to her to be so close.

For once she felt like there was no titles on their shoulders, that they were merely a newly wed couple about to enjoy their peace before retuning to the real world, it helped take away all her other worries. Maybe they could be normal?

She hummed softly as she felt light in his arms, almost free of any burdens. The only thing around being them and a small amount of staff. The only bitter reminder that both of them were at threat for this. Her guard Luke opened the door for them but remained posted outside.

This was to be their time, and they didn’t need eyes on them inside the manor. The woman looked around “A week may not be enough for us..”She spoke out loud her thoughts now. To think that she might enjoy this was warming her inside. Husband and wife Just a week of being us. No pretence. We are in charge

 

[Axty]

Archie’s boots thudded softly against the wooden steps as he carried her up the staircase, careful not to jostle her. The weight in his arms was light, but the moment itself felt heavier than anything he’d carried before.

Then they reached the bedroom.

The doors creaked open to reveal a room lit in a warm, golden glow. Dozens of candles flickered on polished surfaces, their flames dancing with the quiet breeze that slipped in through the open balcony doors. Rose petals—deep crimson and soft blush—were scattered across the floor and bed like a trail of suggestion. Silk sheets, wine on the table, a hearth already lit.

It was… absurdly romantic.

Archie blinked.

Then he laughed. Just a quiet, breathy sound that escaped him before he could stop it.

“They really went the extra mile for the both of us, huh?” he said, glancing at her with an amused glint in his tired blue eyes.

There was no mockery in his tone. Just a kind of awe—like he was standing in the middle of a fantasy written for strangers, not a warrior prince and the daughter of an enemy kingdom.

Still holding her, he turned slightly, giving her a chance to take it all in too.

“I mean… I can’t even tell if we’re supposed to be impressed or pressured,” he added, lips curving faintly.

It was a ridiculous scene, overly perfect—meant for the ideal couple, the fairy tale ending.

And yet… with Florence in his arms, the scent of roses hanging in the air, and the fire casting shadows against the walls—it didn’t feel entirely fake.

Maybe, just maybe, they could rewrite the ending.

 

[freakie]

Step by step as he walked them to their room she felt a small shiver of anxiety. Not because of Archie or their time alone. But the awful lessons about the act. The consummation and procreation all entered her mind. She looked to the door and breathed in some. Wanting to calm her mind of It as they stepped inside the aroma hit her first.

It was the same aroma of Archie. Roses.. and it made her smile slightly As her eyes followed the petals to their bed and she felt the same soft laugh from him. She hummed “At least it’s not like the old days…when they would want to watch through a curtain”She joked when he mentioned about how to feel. The crackling of the fireplace kept her grounded as she watched him for signs of intent.

”That was my very thought when our eyes first met. Pressured or Impressed”She slyly flirted. It was a light tease to see what his feelings were for tonight. They could easily clear the bed and wish to sleep or simply enjoy the evening getting to know one another. She was still in his arms, she knew she could leave when she wished but with the scent…the warmth it all came from him right now and she was enjoying the closeness.

Maybe she was finally opening up to him to be in her space. To show she was here and present.

“I wasn’t so sure before…what you would look like. But it seems we are like Fire and Water”She remarked some, her gaze gentle on his features as she went with the flow.

 

[Axty]

“Yeah, you can say that again,” Archie muttered with a tired huff as he gently lowered her onto the bed, carefully brushing aside some of the more obnoxiously-placed rose petals. The mattress dipped under her, the silk sheets cool against her back.

He paused for a second—unsure, a bit hesitant—then reached for the blanket and pulled it over her slowly. Not too tight. Just enough to say I thought about you.

He stood there for a moment, unsure of what came next. Should he stay beside her? Leave? Was she expecting something from him, or… hoping he wouldn’t?

In the end, he walked over to a chair by the window and dragged it a little closer to the bed before dropping into it with a tired sigh.

Outside, the moon hung high, casting a silvery light through the curtains.

“Well,” he said, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely. “Wasn’t today just… interesting.”

There was no bitterness in his tone. No sarcasm either. Just a kind of dazed amusement. Like he was still trying to figure out if the last twelve hours had been real or some strange fever dream brought on by stress and political pressure.

He glanced over at her, eyes a little softer now.

“I don’t know what tomorrow’s gonna look like,” he added, voice quieter this time. “But… I’m glad we got through today.”

He didn’t say it, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes: I’m glad it was you.

 

[freakie]

As she was laid down on the cool bed she hummed softly, she was still in her dress from the dance. Normally unwinding for bed was a large task a ritual but now she had her husband but no lady to help her she simply relaxed a moment. She wasn’t sure how to feel as he tucked her in and sat across from her. This was new to them both and it seemed her compliment had gone over his head in their tiredness.

When he spoke she sat up slowly and started to undo her hair pins to let her light gold hair fall naturally around her shoulders and back. “Him it was.”She replied softly to focused on the task at hand. Moving to unclasp her earrings and necklace as she set them on the dressed beside her.

“It is nice for once to not be doted on every waking second” She was used to the ladies coming in and out. Pulling and pinching of clothes. She had choice to get dressed when she could and relax when she could.

In the silvery light he caught her eyes again and she chose to look at her hands, her wedding ring always pulling her in since she didn’t wish to say anymore on his appearance in case it made him uncomfortable. He had set his boundary with her unspoken words but actions.

“Seven nights will pass by quickly. Let us not worry of them.”

 

[Axty]

Archie reached up, fingers undoing the delicate clasp of the white shoulder cape. It slid off smoothly, the golden threads catching the light for one last glimmer before he folded it neatly and placed it beside Florence’s jewelry on the nearby dresser. His fingers brushed one of her earrings—elegant, understated, nothing like the ornate things his mother used to wear—and for a brief moment, he paused.

He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his embroidered jacket, letting the fabric part just enough to expose a bit of his collarbone and chest, already damp with the heat left over from the dancing and the long day. The cool air of the room felt like a blessing against his skin.

Dropping into the chair again, he tilted his head back, the muscles in his neck stretching slightly as he stared blankly at the carved ceiling. Candlelight flickered in his peripheral vision, but he wasn’t focused on that. Just… breathing.

“You’re right,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost lost in the quiet hum of the fire and the rustle of fabric. “We should relax as much as possible in these seven days.”

His eyes didn’t meet hers, but the intent was there, lingering in the air between them. Seven days of peace. Seven days before royal obligations, public appearances, or whatever strange duty might come next. Seven days to find some kind of rhythm—or even just understanding—between them.

He closed his eyes.

“For once… I’m okay with the quiet.”

 

[freakie]

The woman heard him move as she glanced up to watch him and noticed he took great care in all his belongings. As he lingered there she couldn’t quite see from her angle that he was inspecting her earrings. She simply hummed softly as she rubbed her arm and found that gold band from her brother. She gently took it off. Her armour almost gone but not her dress.

She traced over the scales carved into it. A snake..a symbol of their house. It didn’t quite fit her but she supposed she never had to worry as she was always destined to take on another name, another house and different colours. She breathed out as she set it down beside the rest and watched him again trailing from his cheek bones to his neck..down to that now exposed flesh sparkling in the moonlight.

Her half lidded eyes opened some at his words, almost forgetting herself and their situation. “To think just us…some guards a cook and that’s all..“She was feeling herself grow uncomfortable in her corset. She glanced at her silk dress before she looked away some. Glancing at the furniture of the room it seemed they had already unpacked their belongings. No cases were left.

“May you pour me a glass..Archibald..“She had not yet thought of calling him by a shorter name. It seemed maybe it was too soon. But it danced across her tongue Archie

 

[Axty]

“Of course, Florence,” he said, his voice low but steady as he poured her a drink—something light and fragrant, the kind of thing meant for winding down rather than celebration. He handed it to her with a small, tired smile, his fingers brushing hers for just a second longer than necessary.

He settled back into his chair, one leg crossed over the other, swirling the liquid in his own glass absently.

“Do you have anything in particular you’d like to do tomorrow?” he asked, glancing at her over the rim of his glass. “I figure… if we’ve got seven days of peace, we might as well make something of it.”

His tone was gentle—an invitation, not an obligation. He wasn’t asking as a prince or a husband under duty. He was asking as Archie, the man trying to find something real in a life full of politics, war, and expectation.

He looked at her again, this time more openly. “If you want space, I’ll give it. But if you’d rather walk the gardens, visit the stables, or just… talk more, I’m game for any of it.”

He took a sip, then added with a slight chuckle, “Though, full warning—I’m terrible at painting, and I refuse to learn the harp.”

 

[freakie]

The woman stayed sat up as she watched him and gently took it off the glass from him. Feeling his touch again she still had great wonders of what he wanted. But she simply thanked him softly and sipped it some. It was pleasant to her and would make a good night cap.

Thinking on his question she nodded some “I agree it’s best not to be couped up in here.“She was thinking on what she’d like to do “Why don’t we take lunch in the gardens. A picnic.?”She offered “Gives us time to explore and time to talk without being too tired from the days events.“

She searched him once more before she slowly stood up and sipped some more of the drink, she didn’t have to show restraint here she simply wanted this before she slept to help it was her mind. Working slowly she opened the dresser to see her gowns and she pulled out a nightgown “If you excuse me. I will get ready for bed. I’ve already had a little too much wine..”She half smiled to him before she walked to the adjoining room.

It was a small refreshment room, a small mirror and place to hang things while changing. But she was ready to get out of this tight fitted nonsense. She found it a little tricky by herself but managed after a while to slip into a simple white night gown. A pearlescent robe over it with embroiled sleeves. Her mother had worked hard to add some character in for this very day.

She walked back into their room, face clean and hair down just above her lower back. She got into bed and pulled the blanket over her legs as she took another sip. “I think I do not want space. I do not want to intrude on you but I also don’t want to create further distance that we’ve already tried to cover.“She said honestly.

 

[Axty]

Archie let out a long, quiet yawn, covering it with the back of his hand. The drink sat half-finished on the table beside him, forgotten now that sleep was tugging at the edges of his mind.


He smiled faintly at her picnic suggestion—it had been simple, sweet, and oddly comforting. A small break from the world’s heaviness. He’d nodded immediately, as if just the idea of it had already lightened something in his chest.


Standing up, he gave a low groan as he stretched, his joints quietly popping in protest. “Guess it’s my turn to get ready,” he said, brushing a hand through his dark hair, now even more tousled than usual.


He looked over his shoulder at her, the candlelight catching in his blue eyes.


“Good night,” he said softly, his voice warm despite how tired he sounded. “In case you fall asleep before I’m back.”

 

[freakie]

Florence was tempted to leave her glass where it stood, she was feeling her body weigh her down as sleep started to creep at her. She moved to get comfortable before she rested her head on the pillow.

As he stood she glanced over and nodded some “Goodnight.”She hoped she didn’t. Will he lay beside me? We are already breaking so many traditions tonight

She simply ended up drifting off to the sound of the last crackles of fire. Peaceful and still and praying that her dreams turned good and didn’t sour as some nights it plagued her.

She would not wake until the sun was high in the sky, blinking softly as she tried to regroup her throughts. Her hair sprawled around her as she remembered the dreams of before.

Her and Nero in the nearby farmers field. Running and playing in the tall wheat before the farmer came to yell at them. Nero taking her hand as they climbed over the wall. Both panting and out of breath as he sat on a fallen log.

“Sister…I have been drafted”He murmured some finally letting go of his terrible secret. The girl frowned “DrafteD? but you are the crowned Prince. Surely it’s just a posted general…a figure head?” She wondered. He took her hand in his “No sweet sister. I have to play my part, out men die many families of the small folk broken. I will seek an end to this…I leave tomorrow at dawn.”

The loss of him and their last day lingered as the now wife gently wiped the sleep from her eyes as she finally focused on the task at hand.

 

[Axty]

Archie returned a short while later, his hair slightly damp from a quick wash, and his figure now dressed down in a loose black drawstring shirt and soft white linen pants. There was something disarming about the casual look—like the battle-hardened prince had finally stepped out of his armor.


He glanced toward the bed, noting the peaceful rise and fall of Florence’s breath beneath the covers. Not wanting to disturb her, he quietly grabbed one of the decorative pillows from the lounge and settled back into the chair he’d claimed earlier.


Letting out a tired sigh, he hugged the pillow to his chest, his arms folding around it almost protectively. It wasn’t the most comfortable sleeping arrangement, but it was enough—for now. He wanted to give her space, respect whatever comfort she needed. Still, he knew appearances mattered. Too many eyes would be watching, even behind palace walls. A different room entirely would raise questions neither of them needed.


As his body began to relax, the weight of the day finally pulling him under, he let his head fall to the side. Sleep crept in quietly, wrapping around him like a lullaby as the soft flicker of candlelight danced against the walls.


For tonight, this was enough.

 

[freakie]

As she continued to wake up, the golden sun shining into their room. It was a new shade of orange, alert and bright. She yawned as she slowly moved and stretched her arms above her head to stretch out the sleep. She slowly sat up and rubbed her face only to feel the cold absence that was her alone in the silk. She glanced around the room and her eyes landed on him.

He was so different when he slept…so innocent to her. She frowned as she tried to think on how to improve his comfort. The chair was plush but didn’t have much room to sleep. She slowly got up before she grabbed her dress for today and shoes. She had learnt to be quiet when she used to sneak out with Nero. Slipping the blanket from the bed she draped it gently over him.

Slipping from the room she sighed heavily as she dressed and got herself to look somewhat put together. Not grand like their events but at least well kept. She wanted to keep up her routine as she walked down the steps trying to stop them creaking under her flats. ”Morning my lady” Her guard Luke stood in front of the main door “The cook has prepared breakfast for you” He of course could advise the staff of what she was like..her wants.

Florence nodded before she went to the dining room to see it laid out and she shook her head “I wish to take it in the conservatory…“She replied and they hurried it to the glass room attached to the side. It was a little unkept but the garden surrounded it and there was lounges with a small long table between them. Fit for serving tea. But they followed her request. She curled up “Can you fetch me one of my books…”She asked.

She enjoyed peaceful mornings, it was much nicer than the one she had before hand. All the nerves. She actually felt well rested but she was faced with the problem that her husband possibly wouldn’t wake refreshed like her. She sipped tea and held her book with the other hand. Snacking on the small platter as she awaited him to wake.