Chapter 2
ANGEL EYES, THAT OLD DEVIL SENT
Three months ago.
Southton Cross, Langlea, Veurein.
“You need to work on your smile.”
“What?” Samuel turns so quickly that his sister Sarah giggles. “My smile is good. My smile is great, in fact. You see these pearly whites?”
Samuel grins and leans towards Sarah’s face, so close that Sarah playfully slaps it away. Sarah snorts and continues smiling, picking up her dress as she goes up the podium to get fitted this time. She knows her brother’s smile could enchant a whole city, but she’ll miss bugging him once he gets sent to the palace for the wedding preparations.
Samuel Thomas Wilson, Viscount Adaire, was chosen by the Queen Mother to marry her son, now King Steven. It was already arranged last year, but the untimely death of the late King Joseph II halted all the planning.
Steven had to prepare to become a king and it wasn’t easy, especially that they hadn’t anticipated the loss of King Joseph II that early. But it was from a battle, one where the nation was at stake and he felt like it was rightful to lead his men to victory. They had won, but it cost everything.
King Steven began learning and leading at the same time. There was no room for mistakes, or for meeting his fiancé.
Up to this day, Steven and Samuel haven’t met nor talked to each other. Of course, Samuel knew of the King even when he was still the Crown Prince, he just hopes that King Steven has at least heard of him from the other peers.
He might have. Samuel is popular and has a good reputation around Langlea. His father Lord Paul, Earl Byrde has been loyal to the monarchy from the start. The late King Joseph II had favored him on many occasions which led to the promised marriage of their first-borns.
Staring at the passers-by outside the tailor shop, Samuel is deep in his thoughts. Suddenly, doubts about being married to the King himself surface in his chest, and even though he was dubbed the finest candidate in the kingdom, what if the King despises him? What if they just won’t fit together? What if he ruins this for his family, bringing shame as the eldest child?
Sarah notices and throws a crumpled piece of napkin at him. Samuel turns to her less enthusiastically this time.
“What’re you thinking about?” Sarah asks, stepping down and standing right beside her brother. She puts an arm around Samuel’s, placing her head on his shoulder.
“What if King Steven won’t even like me?” Samuel whispers, watching a bunch of kids play tag on the sidewalk. He reaches for his sister’s hand and caresses it with his thumb. “He doesn’t even know me. This doesn’t really make sense, doesn’t it?”
“Well, Sammy, I know you.” Sarah counters. “You’re charming and kind-hearted and the most caring brother ever.” She takes her head off of Sam’s shoulder to look at him with a smile. “Plus, when did royal marriages ever make sense? When King Joseph I married Queen Caoimhe, they hadn’t met until the wedding day. Isn’t that crazy?”
Samuel merely tilts his head, allowing the compliments to sink in. His little sister might tease him a lot, but when she’s complimenting anybody, she’s genuine.
“Ah, you guys are bonding without me?” The bell atop of the door rings as Gideon enters the shop. He immediately opens his arms, embracing his siblings.
“Is it our fault that you’re late? We gave you the time to arrive.” Sarah says, giving Gideon a kiss on the cheek. “Hi, brother.”
“My favorite girl,” Gideon mutters, returning the kiss on Sarah’s forehead. He then turns to Samuel and flashes a grin; the siblings have the brightest smiles in town according to their mama. “How’s our King consort doing?”
Waving a dismissive hand, Samuel huffs out. “Not yet. I’m coming over to St. Bathilde to prepare. The wedding won’t be in another three months.”
Gideon leans on the wall. The assistant of the tailor comes over with a measuring tape. “Why’re we doing the measurements now, then? What if I blow up within the next three months, or get smaller?”
Samuel crosses his arms. “Because only the finest fabric will be used on your clothes, and it’ll take quite a bit to make. King Steven made sure that both of you will be treated as special as I will be.”
Sarah coos. “Aww, he’s so nice. I thought you hadn't talked?”
“That’s… from the Queen Mother.” Samuel says. “The King told her.”
“Okay, wait. So when are you leaving?” Gideon asks as he walks up the podium for his turn. “Is this our last meet-up?”
“It might be, brother. I’m leaving after tomorrow.”
“With Ma?” Gideon follows up.
Samuel nods. He could only wish that their father could come with him instead, but the Earl has more important things to do than get asked which flowers are better or what motif would the reception be. It’s better if Lady Darlene comes, anyway. Mother knows best.
“We’ll be staying in the palace. The King and I won’t be in the same room, though.”
“That’s no fun.” Sarah comments, making Samuel roll his eyes. “But hey. Promise to call me every night, Sam.”
With a laugh, Samuel takes his sister’s hand in assurance. “Ma wouldn’t let a day pass without calling you or Gideon. Don’t worry about it.”
Saintirral Palace, St. Bathilde.
It takes half a day of car travel to reach St. Bathilde in Eclain. They could’ve taken a plane — Samuel would love to, he is more comfortable in the sky than on land as a former pilot — but Lady Darlene is airsick. Samuel wasn’t particularly happy with the narrow leg room and the bumpy roads and the mountainside slopes, but he’d rather have that than see his mother deal with her sickness in the sky.
The Saintirral Palace is… well, a palace. The walls are huge around it and so are the gates. The bushes are well-kept, roses of white and red bloom within the greens. There are knights stationed on each side of the gates as it opens for their car. The last time he was here was during the coronation of King Joseph II, which was 20 years ago, making him six-years-old then and the current king nine. The palace looked way bigger from his perspective, the details outside cleaner and more visible. Time has caught up on the palace carvings, and so did the ivy.
“How was the ride here, sir?” The attendant asks upon opening the door for Samuel.
Samuel sighs, but smiles politely. “It was okay. What’s your name?”
The attendant blinks in surprise. “Sorry?”
“What’s your name?” Samuel repeats. He steps away so the man can close the door.
The attendant hesitates, like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to respond. He croaks out, “Elvin, sir.”
“Nice to meet you, Elvin. Will you be taking my luggage in?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay. Thank you.” Samuel pats Elvin on the shoulder and jogs around the car to open the door for his mother.
Elvin’s mouth is open, unable to believe how courteous the Lord has been towards him. Another man walks towards him with the same blue uniform, gasping and exhaling loudly.
“I think you’ll be fine, Joaquín.” Elvin whispers. “He’s… different?”
“We’ll see about that." Joaquín responds, trying to stand straight although his knees might buckle in a second. “I’ve served enough peers of the monarchs to know what they’re like.”
It’s his first big responsibility as a palace attendant and it’s to assist the soon-to-be King consort throughout the preparations.
“Good luck,” Elvin nudges his friend and co-worker. “You better go ‘head and follow him before you get fired.”
The inside of the palace is larger than what you can see outside. The historic paintings on the walls, the ceilings that might as well reach the skies. The Saintirral was never open to the public, even when the royal family would invite international guests over, it would be in Varnham or Rambufort. The press was allowed to take a peek, but never more than a few photos.
“Do you wish to go somewhere today, my Lord?”
Samuel almost jumps out of his skin as he stops walking and gawking at the interior. Lady Darlene, on the other hand, takes the surprise more gracefully.
“Excuse me?” Samuel asks. “Have you been there the entire time?”
“Uh, right from when you walked into the palace, my Lord.” Joaquín replies, his back straight as a ruler. “Sorry if I surprised you… and Lady Darlene.” He bows his head at the Countess. “I’ve been assigned to assist, support, and answer your questions all throughout your stay.”
“What’s your name?” Samuel finally faces the attendant.
Joaquín smiles at the first question. “Joaquín Torres, sir.”
Samuel pouts his lips and nods. He then offers a hand to shake. “I’m Sam.”
“Steven.”
With an exhale, the King turns to the door where the Queen Mother stands. She smiles at him, so he smiles back.
“Hi, Ma.” Steven greets and puts his hands behind him. “Do you need anything?”
“I need you to take a breath.” Queen Sarah says as she walks towards her son. “Have you been outside lately?”
Steven chuckles at the thought. “The paperwork is inside, Ma. Here. In my office.”
“All I’m saying is to take a break.” Queen Sarah says, reaching for Steven’s face. “You look terrible.”
He’s weary. He needs more than the four hours he gets at night. He smiles for her and the cameras, but he’s tired. She, however, knows what had caused that. From the moment her one and only child was born, she knew what could possibly burden him so much. It makes a difference that he’s thwarted into that position so sudden. No fancy coronation ceremony, no celebration party. The kingdom mourned and Steven was put to work.
Leaning onto his mother’s touch, Steven sighs. “I am on break. Why do you think I’m here by the window?”
“Did you see Lord Samuel’s arrival from here then?” Queen Sarah asks.
Steven pulls away from the hand now. Right, it was today. “No. I don’t really have a good view of the entrance.”
He sounded indifferent. But Steven isn’t exactly indifferent about the marriage nor the viscount he’s been arranged with, just the thought of this and everything else happening all at once taking a toll on him. His mother asks him to rest, but he doesn’t even have a room to breathe. He remembers his childhood where he simply couldn’t wait to be king. He’s careful of what he wishes for nowadays.
Clearing his throat, Steven shuffles from where he’s standing. “Should I go see him now?”
This makes the Queen Mother happy. “If you’re free, baby.”
Steven nods, but it’s mostly to himself. He’s never met the man and he’s sure he’s pleasant. He should at least introduce himself to the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go down and meet him. Could you please tell him to wait for half an hour? I need to change.”
“Of course.” Queen Sarah agrees and kisses her son’s cheek before walking away. Her maid-in-waiting trots behind her, but they both pause. “Jamie’s asked about you a thousand times, by the way.”
Steven laughs. “He prefers to be called Bucky, Ma.”
“Ah," The Queen flails her hand. “He’s Jamie to me and Bucky to you. He knows that.”
Beginning to take off his ascot, Steven walks towards his desk. “Tell Jasper I’ll meet Bucky tonight at the courtyard if he’s free.”
The Queen hums. “I’ll make sure to let him know then.”
“This will be your room, sir. It’s directly below His Majesty’s, and there are courtiers available 24/7 should you need something. My room will be connected to yours as well, for easy access should you need me.” Joaquín explains as he opens this massive door to where Samuel would stay.
The room is no different than the other ones he’d seen while being basically toured in the palace. It’s spacious and clean and is much bigger than what he has back home in Sunteau Hall. To think that this is just one of the guest rooms, he couldn’t imagine the room of the King.
“And for my mom?” Samuel had to ask, which made Joaquín panic a little bit.
“Right, sorry. It’s the room across yours, my Lord.” Joaquín points at the equally large door with his palm. “Your luggage should be delivered here shortly, if you need to change.”
Samuel marvels at the painted ceiling. There are angels and saints and harps and clouds. It’s regal in every way.
“Aren’t your legs sore?” Lady Darlene queries, leaning towards Samuel’s ears playfully. She then struts away to examine her son’s room further. “Thanks for taking the car for me. I know you would’ve loved to fly again.”
Samuel shrugs and sits on the bed. Damn, it feels like a new mattress. “Yeah, well. It’s more of my knees that’s hurtin’, but the stopovers helped. I’m good, Ma. Besides, it’s not like I could’ve flown a plane.” He looks at the intricate carpet beneath him. “Not without Riley, anyway.”
Lady Darlene looks at her son with such a soft gaze. Before she could answer back, Joaquín strides towards them bearing news.
“His Majesty will see you in about 30 minutes, sir.”
Samuel shoots up, finally feeling the ache in the knees more. He hisses and refuses to stumble. “T-Thirty?”
“Yes, sir. Would you like me to tell him that you need more time?”
“No!” Samuel answers, flustered. He doesn’t think he should ask the King to wait on him. “No, I’m fine. Where do I have to wait?”
“I’ll lead the way later for you. Do you have to freshen up?” Joaquín asks.
Samuel, now frantic, loosens his tie. “Yeah. I’ll be quick for sure.”
Joaquín smiles courtly and looks at Lady Darlene. “Would you like to see your room in the meantime, my Lady?”
Lady Darlene smiles at Joaquín, but looks at Samuel one last time before following him.
The ring on Samuel’s thumb somehow became more interesting than it ever was as he fidgets with it while waiting. He had sprayed perfume and washed his face before changing into another set of clothes to be presentable. The 12-hour trip was no joke. His foot taps lightly in anticipation as he sits on a chair that feels like it had just been steamed.
As the door opens abruptly, Samuel stands up like a military man, spine straight and chin up. He drops his hands to his side as he watches King Steven turn the corner to walk up to him.
His coat is royal blue with red and gold accents. His pants match his top and his hands are gloved. He walks with big strides, like he’s in a hurry, like his time costs a million darics as they probably are.
Steven looks up at Samuel with a blink, his brow twitching upwards as he smiles delicately. He’s charming in person and up close, and suddenly Samuel is hyperaware of all the imperfections that he must have.
As Steven stops in front of Samuel, Samuel bows and greets, “Your Majesty.”
“Lord Samuel.”
By the time Samuel lifts his head up, he notices the King’s hand being offered.
“Ah,” Steven says, though took no offense. “I thought a handshake would’ve been fine.”
Samuel feels flushed at his mistake as he immediately grabs Steven’s hand for a firm shake. “My apologies, Your Majesty.”
“It’s no big deal.” Steven chuckles, and Samuel could feel a sigh of relief escaping him. “I’m sorry, I know this meeting should’ve happened months ago.”
“Oh, please don’t. It’s okay. I’m still… honored. By all of this, really.” Samuel beams, discreetly fidgeting with his right thumb. “Beautiful palace, by the way. Thank you for accommodating me and my mother, Lady Darlene. She sends her regards.”
Steven nods. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy your stay here. Just let me know whatever you need, I’ll provide.”
“You’re too kind, sir.” Samuel comments.
“Only the best for my future husband.” Steve replies.
Samuel stares at the King with a gulp. The sentence caught him off guard. He stops playing with his thumb, and he doesn’t blink enough to feel his eyes water a bit.
King Steven is charismatic and beloved by the kingdom. He’s obviously gracious and thoughtful, not to add how handsome he looks right in front of him — the blue eyes are comparable to the sky painted above them, his blond hair looking like slicked back golden threads. His smile could launch a thousand ships if he wanted to. He smells like a lavender field.
If the King had said that to any other eligible bachelor or bachelorette in Veurein, they would’ve already fainted or swooned, and that’s exactly the problem.
Samuel felt nothing. Flattery at most.
To avoid embarrassment, Samuel smiles and chuckles lightly, sheepishly reaching for the rear of his neck. “Would you like to take a seat?”
Steven blinks a few times. “I didn’t realize we’d been standing forever. Please, take a seat.” He invites, pointing at the couch with an open palm. He then sits down on the loveseat beside it, giving Samuel space.
As they sit down, the panic in Sam sinks to his stomach. He was supposed to be enamored by the King at first sight. That’s how fairytales go, right? That’s how you get the happy-ever-after. And although curious, Samuel just doesn’t feel a spark between them.
He wonders if the King feels the same.
“So, how’s your father, Lord Paul?” Steven asks. “I haven’t seen him in any of the parties nor galas recently. Busy with the business?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. He manages the seafood business with my brother Gideon.” Sam answers succinctly.
“So what do you do, then?”
“I help out sometimes, but I manage the estate on behalf of him. We just opened our 5th branch just by the shore of Javella. Business has been going well.”
“Good to hear,” Steven replies. “But I heard you know how to fly planes.”
Samuel pauses. Of course, the King must've looked him up or something. “Yes. I used to be a pilot, sir.”
Steven hums. “Used to.”
Samuel would’ve looked away if it wasn’t disrespectful. “I retired after an accident, sir.”
The expression in Steven’s face softens. He straightens his back at the news. “Sorry to hear about that.”
“It wasn’t mine, but it was a friend’s. I just thought if I wasn’t able to fulfill my duty then, I couldn’t onwards.”
“Have you sworn off flying completely?”
“I’d fly again for you, Your Majesty.” Samuel says with sincerity. It’d be nerve wracking, but he’d do it.
Steven gives a smile again. A beat. “You should call me Steve.”
Samuel gasps and shakes his head. “Oh, no.”
“It’s fine with me.”
“I think it’s appropriate to at least say King Steve–”
“Just Steve.” Steven insists. He stares at the horrified look in Sam’s face, then laughs. “Look, it’s okay. You’ll get used to it.”
Samuel pauses again, in disbelief. He does like the King’s laid-back personality, that he can admit. They would be great friends… if only.
Maybe time will pass and he’ll fall in love with him. They had just met, anyway. You couldn’t be in love with somebody at first sight, could you?
Samuel surrenders as he slumps his shoulders. He laughs lightly. “Then, Sam’s fine.”
“Sure,” Steven agrees enthusiastically. “Sam… it’s nice to meet you.”
The stars are always so bright at night in St. Gytha. Although it’s only a few towns from the capital city which is St. Bathilde, the light pollution is relatively lower and one could stargaze in their backyard without any equipment needed.
“Aren’t you going to the palace tonight?” Winnifred Barnes shouts from the kitchen. “You shouldn’t keep the King waiting, James.”
James stares at the stars a few more seconds before turning to his mother with a smile. “Steve’ll wait for me. He doesn’t mind, usually.”
Winnifred walks out of the kitchen, hanging the damp dishcloth on her shoulder. She peeks at her son from the back door, leaning on the frame. “He’s still your King, you know.”
“He doesn’t want me to treat him like one.” James shuffles to Winnifred, the grass quietly crunching underneath his armored feet. “And are you just kicking me out because I didn’t leave any food for Becca?”
Winnifred laughs and hits James on his chest plate. “I’m kicking you out because you’re being inconsiderate of King Steven’s time. He’s a busy man!”
“So am I! By the way, I’m using the car.” James steps inside and takes the car keys from the hook.
“In your armor?” Winnifred questions with furrowed brows. “Your father won’t be very happy if you get the seats dirty. He just had them cleaned.”
James sighs heavily. He takes his chest plate off and leaves his brown gambeson on along with his black leather gloves. He is keeping the metal boots on though.
“Are you happy?”
“Not quite, but go.” Winnifred shoos James with a flail of hands. “Tell him I said hi.”
James begrudgingly drags himself out of the house while putting his hair up in a bun. There’s still a few loose strands but he does have to go. He jogs towards the car but not without patting his horse Alpine on the snout while she hangs her head outside the fence. He would’ve taken her as a form of transportation but she has to rest for the night.
Reaching St. Bathilde within 15 minutes, James parks the car in front of the Saintirral with a hurry. A guard comes up to him and salutes before taking the keys from him so he can place the car somewhere else. James strides into the palace, meeting an attendant right at the door.
“His Majesty, the King, is expecting me.” James says without looking at the attendant who is keeping up with his big steps towards the courtyard.
“Yes, Commander, but plans have changed. He’d like you to come to his office instead.”
James stops immediately and turns to the attendant. The attendant, still poised and calm, points the way to the office. James exhales and starts walking again.
Then, everything seems to slow down.
A whiff of… sweetness. Like if daydream was a scent. James whips his head to where it’s coming from, and it’s from the man in a red satin vest layered on top of a white flounce sleeved shirt. He has long dark locs with golden clips and spirals embellishing them. He wears a singular hanging earring with a shining ruby in the middle. All the gold he’s wearing perfectly agrees with his dark skin tone.
He’s beautiful.
“Commander.” The attendant calls, so James closes his agaped mouth and turns back to him. “King Steven is waiting.”
“Right.” James says before stealing another look at the stranger. He’s gone. He must’ve turned a corner in this maze of a palace. “Who was that?”
“Who was who, sir?” The attendant asks.
“The guy… he was just uh, here. He just passed… by us.” James tries to explain, but now he must sound ridiculous.
“I didn’t really notice anything, Sir James.” The attendant says. She tries to look at where James is peering at, but the hall is empty. She points at the stairs leading to the second floor. “Please, Sir.”
James takes a moment and looks ahead. He must be exhausted. The scent is gone now, too, so he wonders if he had just momentarily imagined some sort of angel roaming the palace. That, or his mother must’ve prayed too hard today.
James gives up for now and follows the attendant up the stairs to finally see the King.