Chapter 1
“Shoulders back Regulus, come on practice the bow again,” his mother nagged as Regulus worked the knot in his neck.
“Mother is it really mandatory I attend this ball,”
“Yes, Regulus you may have the privilege of living your life within the pages of your frivolous writing but you’re still a royal at the end of the day. So yes, your attendance is mandatory,” the queen snapped, “now bow,”
Regulus placed a hand behind his back and one to his front, leaning down to a low respectful bow, “was that suitable for you mother?” Regulus nagged. The queen eyed him with impatience before finally giving,
“Yes, fine be gone I’m done dealing with you anyways, don’t be late tonight,” she commanded.
“Certainly not your highness,” Regulus snarked grabbing his coat and meeting Dorcas as he left the empty ballroom, making his way to his wing on the second floor.
“You know you might actually be trying to get disowned at this point,” Dorcas said as they walked up a dozen set of stairs.
“Please they let Sirius be king, I’ll be just fine,”
“Sure Reg,” she said opening the door to the young prince’s room. In his room sat the court astronomer and the best seer of the age, Pandora Rosier primping himself at his vanity. His bodyguards Barty Crouch JR and Evan Rosier had made themselves quite comfortable on his bed, Evan laying his head on Barty’s lap. Dorcas made quick work of joining Pandora taking to braid her ethereal blonde hair into small braids. Regulus looked around the room, not to see a group of people who work for him, or who’re paid to be nice to him. But a room full of his friends, people he genuinely cares for and knows cares for him as well.
“Now what the bloody fuck do you lot think you’re doing here,” he said making his way to his wardrobe.
“Well Reggie dearest-“
“Keep it in your pants Crouch your boyfriends right there,” regulus said.
“It’s chill,” Evans said carelessly flicking his hand.
“Anyways, you have a ball princy and we here that the guest of honour’s quite a looker. So, we are here to help with your atrocious fashion sense,”
“Crouch all my clothes are literally custom made,”
“Doesn’t mean you look good in them though,” Barty said knowing that if Reg was any other prince he would have been beheaded, years ago.
“Touche,” Regulus gave in, “go on then, have at it,” he said opening his wardrobe and gesturing to his friends, “dress me,”