ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
A/N: This is a contest entry for HetaXReadXInter. Go check the contest out, they have prizes~!
Also, this fic contains a bit of France x Reader. You'll understand why soon.
Cover Image by HoshikoxChi C:
Also, this fic contains a bit of France x Reader. You'll understand why soon.
Cover Image by HoshikoxChi C:
*~*~*~*
'"I have finally found someone worth falling in love with."'
*~*~*~*
Knock knock.
"Oh no..."
(Y/n) looked up from the sink full of bubbly water and dirty dishes and hoped she was only imagining the distinctly unique knocking caused by only one individual.
'Not him again...' she thought.
She sneaked a peek outside the nearest window and looked at her doorstep, trying to hide herself as much as possible.
The girl sighed sadly as her fears were confirmed; it was him, or the Tax Collector, as most of the villagers called him.
(Y/n) made her best attempt at silence, when the man knocked on her door again, more irritably this time.
"I know you're in there, (y/n)!" the Tax Collector yelled. "You've tried to pull this trick too many times!"
(Y/n) groaned and muttered a curse under her breath.
The girl reluctantly walked over to the door and applied a hypocrite smile. Her fingers grasped the doorknob, twisted, and pulled the door open to reveal... him. The short and chubby man wore expensive-looking rings on each of his fat fingers and held a large leather sack in one hand that jingled every time it moved. A green cloak made of fine materials protected him from the cold snow outside. And his face... was rather unpleasant to look at, to be honest.
"Well, hello Sir," she began in an overly-sweet tone that almost made her seem scary. "What brings you here on Christmas Eve?"
"You know very well why I'm here, villager," he said with a glare.
Her eye twitched at his rudeness, but her smile didn't falter. "Actually," she said, "I don't."
He rolled his eyes and stuck his hand out, bringing his fingers in and out in a hand-it-over-motion. "Must we do this every time?"
She sighed and crossed her arms, not willing to pay her taxes. They were so damn expensive these days, and the fact that (y/n)'s family didn't have that much money to begin with wasn't very helpful at all.
The Tax Collector sighed impatiently. "If you don't hand them over now," he threatened, "I will charge double the amount."
(Y/n) slowly reached into her pockets and pulled out three gold coins. It didn't seem like much at all, but this was a great portion of her family's wealth.
Her arm stretched out to hand the precious money over to the ungrateful Tax Collector, but her fingers hesitated on releasing it.
"You can't keep doing this," she whispered, frowning and staring at the floor. "The village will starve."
"Just hand over the money," said the Tax Collector carelessly.
(Y/n) relaxed her fingers and let the coins fall into his chubby palm. She turned away as he inspected the gold.
Just as (y/n) was about to close the door and continue the dishes, the man stopped her. "This isn't enough," he said.
The girl froze in her tracks and her hands balled into fists.
"What do you mean," she spoke through gritted teeth. "This is the exact amount I paid last time."
"Well," informed the Tax Collector, enjoying the girl's anger, "His Highness Arthur is holding an incredibly large ball tomorrow as a Christmas celebration. People from all over will attend; Dukes, Emperors, and so on. So, the honorable King Arthur shall need two extra coins from everyone to pay for this grand gala.”
(Y/n)’s jaw dropped. This was unbelievable. If anything, the King could afford to pay the ball for himself. So why did he demand extra money from the villagers who were already on the verge of starvation?
“I'm waaaaaiting,” sing-songed the Tax Collector.
It took all of the girl's self-control not to throw the two last coins in her pocket angrily at the man, and to refrain from further insults that could get her family in trouble.
The Tax Collector took the coins with an evil smile and walked away, as (y/n) slammed the door behind him.
She finished the dishes, wondering how she would explain all of this to her mother.
"Oh no..."
(Y/n) looked up from the sink full of bubbly water and dirty dishes and hoped she was only imagining the distinctly unique knocking caused by only one individual.
'Not him again...' she thought.
She sneaked a peek outside the nearest window and looked at her doorstep, trying to hide herself as much as possible.
The girl sighed sadly as her fears were confirmed; it was him, or the Tax Collector, as most of the villagers called him.
(Y/n) made her best attempt at silence, when the man knocked on her door again, more irritably this time.
"I know you're in there, (y/n)!" the Tax Collector yelled. "You've tried to pull this trick too many times!"
(Y/n) groaned and muttered a curse under her breath.
The girl reluctantly walked over to the door and applied a hypocrite smile. Her fingers grasped the doorknob, twisted, and pulled the door open to reveal... him. The short and chubby man wore expensive-looking rings on each of his fat fingers and held a large leather sack in one hand that jingled every time it moved. A green cloak made of fine materials protected him from the cold snow outside. And his face... was rather unpleasant to look at, to be honest.
"Well, hello Sir," she began in an overly-sweet tone that almost made her seem scary. "What brings you here on Christmas Eve?"
"You know very well why I'm here, villager," he said with a glare.
Her eye twitched at his rudeness, but her smile didn't falter. "Actually," she said, "I don't."
He rolled his eyes and stuck his hand out, bringing his fingers in and out in a hand-it-over-motion. "Must we do this every time?"
She sighed and crossed her arms, not willing to pay her taxes. They were so damn expensive these days, and the fact that (y/n)'s family didn't have that much money to begin with wasn't very helpful at all.
The Tax Collector sighed impatiently. "If you don't hand them over now," he threatened, "I will charge double the amount."
(Y/n) slowly reached into her pockets and pulled out three gold coins. It didn't seem like much at all, but this was a great portion of her family's wealth.
Her arm stretched out to hand the precious money over to the ungrateful Tax Collector, but her fingers hesitated on releasing it.
"You can't keep doing this," she whispered, frowning and staring at the floor. "The village will starve."
"Just hand over the money," said the Tax Collector carelessly.
(Y/n) relaxed her fingers and let the coins fall into his chubby palm. She turned away as he inspected the gold.
Just as (y/n) was about to close the door and continue the dishes, the man stopped her. "This isn't enough," he said.
The girl froze in her tracks and her hands balled into fists.
"What do you mean," she spoke through gritted teeth. "This is the exact amount I paid last time."
"Well," informed the Tax Collector, enjoying the girl's anger, "His Highness Arthur is holding an incredibly large ball tomorrow as a Christmas celebration. People from all over will attend; Dukes, Emperors, and so on. So, the honorable King Arthur shall need two extra coins from everyone to pay for this grand gala.”
(Y/n)’s jaw dropped. This was unbelievable. If anything, the King could afford to pay the ball for himself. So why did he demand extra money from the villagers who were already on the verge of starvation?
“I'm waaaaaiting,” sing-songed the Tax Collector.
It took all of the girl's self-control not to throw the two last coins in her pocket angrily at the man, and to refrain from further insults that could get her family in trouble.
The Tax Collector took the coins with an evil smile and walked away, as (y/n) slammed the door behind him.
She finished the dishes, wondering how she would explain all of this to her mother.
*~*~*~*
"What do you mean, two extra coins?"
(Y/n) cringed slightly at her mother's tone.
“Mother,” she began cautiously. “As I have told you earlier, the King is hosting a Christmas ball, and apparently needs the two extra coins from everyone to pay for it.”
The girl's mother shook her head in frustration.
“If this goes on, we won't be able to afford anything.”
“Yeah, I know. It's horrible.”
(Y/n) stared at her feet as her mother walked away, exiting the home to hopefully find some affordable supper, and leaving her alone.
The girl sighed and plopped down on the old couch that her father had bought for the family when he was alive and when the family was well fed every day. She ran a hand through her hair and began losing herself in her thoughts.
Knock.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Hey! (Y/n)! It's me! Quit pouting and open the door!”
(Y/n) looked up toward the door and smiled. Only one person would talk like that, only one person could make her smile with the smallest things...
“Coming, Leiah (if your name is Leiah, change this)!” she called out to the door, dashing toward it and opening it quickly, unlike when the Tax Collector was there.
(Y/n) didn't even have the time to say hello before Leiah pulled her into an excited bone-crushing hug.
“I missed you so much!” she exclaimed as (y/n) was in an oxygen-deprived state. “How have you been?”
(Y/n) only coughed in response and Leiah, realizing what she was doing, released her.
“Sorry! You okay?” she asked nervously. (Y/n) giggled and choked at the same time.
“Never better,” she answered with a smile. Leiah grinned.
“Great!”
(Y/n) truly appreciated Leiah's company, even though they were polar opposites. Leiah possessed a social, friendly, confident and likeable atmosphere, while (y/n) was often too shy to talk to anyone. Leiah had a happy and wealthy family when (y/n) and her mom struggled to feed themselves every day. Leiah was absolutely gorgeous and (y/n) was extremely average-looking, if not below that.
“Hey (y/n)?” asked Leiah suddenly, interrupting (y/n) from her current train of thoughts. “Have you heard that the King is holding a ball tomorrow?”
(Y/n)'s lip curled in irritation. “Yeah. That damn Tax Collector charged us two extra coins because of it.”
“Oh no,” said Leiah sadly, smile fading. “That's awful. I still wish Mummy and Daddy would let me pay for you.”
“Don't worry about it,” said (y/n).
“Well anyways,” continued Leiah, regaining her grin, “my family was invited to the Christmas Ball!”
(Y/n) forced a smile to look happy for her friend, secretly wishing she could afford to attend such grand celebrations. “That's great! I hope you have fun!”
“Oh, I will!” giggled Leiah. “But, so will you!”
“What?” asked (y/n), confused.
Leiah reached into her cloak pocket and pulled out a white envelope that bore the castle's seal and handed it to her. (Y/n)'s eyes widened.
“B-but, I wasn't invited!” she stuttered in shock. Leiah giggled at her friend.
“Well, now you are!” she exclaimed. “It's addressed to you, after all!”
“H-how?”
“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you,” began Leiah. “Mummy told me to choose someone to invite to the ball. I think she wanted me to invite a date, but she didn't specify, so I chose to invite you!”
“B-but...” was all (y/n) could make out.
“Also,” continued her friend, “I've already bought your outfit and everything. You don't need to worry.”
Leiah beamed happily as (y/n) just stared at her with her mouth open.
“Take it!” she said, shoving the fancy envelope in (y/n)'s hands. “It's addressed to you, after all!”
(Y/n) hesitantly accepted it, feeling guilty to have let her friend use this exclusive invitation on someone like her. Then, she gently opened it, making sure not to ruin anything. An official-looking handwritten note was placed inside- (y/n) carefully pulled it out and read it aloud.
’To whom it may concern,' said the note,
’Congratulations. You have been invited to the honorable King Arthur's grand Christmas Ball, which is taking place on December 25th, starting at 8:00.
’Requirements are the following; suitable outfits and masks.
’We hope to see you there!
'~The English King's committee'
(Y/n) inserted the note back into the envelope and set it down, before throwing her arms around her best friend.
“Thank you, oh, thank you!” she said excitedly. “How will I ever make it up to you?”
“Don't worry about it,” informed Leiah. “This is what friends are for! Just count this as your Christmas present from me!”
The two friends then continued chatting and laughing, ignoring how much time passed, until (y/n)'s mom came home and made Leiah leave.
While her mom went in the kitchen to cut the bread she had managed to buy into pieces for them to eat, (y/n) dashed into her room and hid the note under her pillow. She didn't exactly know how to tell her mother yet. Nor did she know what her reaction might be.
(Y/n) decided to keep it as a secret, at least for now.
(Y/n) cringed slightly at her mother's tone.
“Mother,” she began cautiously. “As I have told you earlier, the King is hosting a Christmas ball, and apparently needs the two extra coins from everyone to pay for it.”
The girl's mother shook her head in frustration.
“If this goes on, we won't be able to afford anything.”
“Yeah, I know. It's horrible.”
(Y/n) stared at her feet as her mother walked away, exiting the home to hopefully find some affordable supper, and leaving her alone.
The girl sighed and plopped down on the old couch that her father had bought for the family when he was alive and when the family was well fed every day. She ran a hand through her hair and began losing herself in her thoughts.
Knock.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Hey! (Y/n)! It's me! Quit pouting and open the door!”
(Y/n) looked up toward the door and smiled. Only one person would talk like that, only one person could make her smile with the smallest things...
“Coming, Leiah (if your name is Leiah, change this)!” she called out to the door, dashing toward it and opening it quickly, unlike when the Tax Collector was there.
(Y/n) didn't even have the time to say hello before Leiah pulled her into an excited bone-crushing hug.
“I missed you so much!” she exclaimed as (y/n) was in an oxygen-deprived state. “How have you been?”
(Y/n) only coughed in response and Leiah, realizing what she was doing, released her.
“Sorry! You okay?” she asked nervously. (Y/n) giggled and choked at the same time.
“Never better,” she answered with a smile. Leiah grinned.
“Great!”
(Y/n) truly appreciated Leiah's company, even though they were polar opposites. Leiah possessed a social, friendly, confident and likeable atmosphere, while (y/n) was often too shy to talk to anyone. Leiah had a happy and wealthy family when (y/n) and her mom struggled to feed themselves every day. Leiah was absolutely gorgeous and (y/n) was extremely average-looking, if not below that.
“Hey (y/n)?” asked Leiah suddenly, interrupting (y/n) from her current train of thoughts. “Have you heard that the King is holding a ball tomorrow?”
(Y/n)'s lip curled in irritation. “Yeah. That damn Tax Collector charged us two extra coins because of it.”
“Oh no,” said Leiah sadly, smile fading. “That's awful. I still wish Mummy and Daddy would let me pay for you.”
“Don't worry about it,” said (y/n).
“Well anyways,” continued Leiah, regaining her grin, “my family was invited to the Christmas Ball!”
(Y/n) forced a smile to look happy for her friend, secretly wishing she could afford to attend such grand celebrations. “That's great! I hope you have fun!”
“Oh, I will!” giggled Leiah. “But, so will you!”
“What?” asked (y/n), confused.
Leiah reached into her cloak pocket and pulled out a white envelope that bore the castle's seal and handed it to her. (Y/n)'s eyes widened.
“B-but, I wasn't invited!” she stuttered in shock. Leiah giggled at her friend.
“Well, now you are!” she exclaimed. “It's addressed to you, after all!”
“H-how?”
“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you,” began Leiah. “Mummy told me to choose someone to invite to the ball. I think she wanted me to invite a date, but she didn't specify, so I chose to invite you!”
“B-but...” was all (y/n) could make out.
“Also,” continued her friend, “I've already bought your outfit and everything. You don't need to worry.”
Leiah beamed happily as (y/n) just stared at her with her mouth open.
“Take it!” she said, shoving the fancy envelope in (y/n)'s hands. “It's addressed to you, after all!”
(Y/n) hesitantly accepted it, feeling guilty to have let her friend use this exclusive invitation on someone like her. Then, she gently opened it, making sure not to ruin anything. An official-looking handwritten note was placed inside- (y/n) carefully pulled it out and read it aloud.
’To whom it may concern,' said the note,
’Congratulations. You have been invited to the honorable King Arthur's grand Christmas Ball, which is taking place on December 25th, starting at 8:00.
’Requirements are the following; suitable outfits and masks.
’We hope to see you there!
'~The English King's committee'
(Y/n) inserted the note back into the envelope and set it down, before throwing her arms around her best friend.
“Thank you, oh, thank you!” she said excitedly. “How will I ever make it up to you?”
“Don't worry about it,” informed Leiah. “This is what friends are for! Just count this as your Christmas present from me!”
The two friends then continued chatting and laughing, ignoring how much time passed, until (y/n)'s mom came home and made Leiah leave.
While her mom went in the kitchen to cut the bread she had managed to buy into pieces for them to eat, (y/n) dashed into her room and hid the note under her pillow. She didn't exactly know how to tell her mother yet. Nor did she know what her reaction might be.
(Y/n) decided to keep it as a secret, at least for now.
*~*~*~*
The next day was a complete blur.
When (y/n) woke up, a wave of anxiety surged through her body as she remembered yesterday's events and realized that the ball her best friend had invited her to was that night.
Normally, the girl would groan and lay in bed until her mother practically dragged her away from it, but today, the excitement gave (y/n) the energy to jump onto her feet, hastily change, put on a cheap winter cloak and dash to Leiah's home; she needed advice for tonight as early as possible to relieve her stress.
The girl was about to knock on the mansion's door with all her might when she remembered that Leiah's parents didn't quite enjoy (y/n)'s company. In fact, they called it a disgrace behind her back, considering the girl's low wealth.
(Y/n) began to worry that Leiah may have not informed her parents about the fact that their daughter had invited someone like her to a classy ball which was only attended by high-ranking families. If her concerns were true, then maybe she would get Leiah in trouble, or get herself kicked out of the Christmas Ball. Both of those possibilities terrified (y/n), so she lowered her hand away from the door and thought for a minute.
(Y/n) knew she needed to talk to Leiah without having to go through her parents, but how? The only entrance was the one in front of her, and there was no way she could climb though the window without a ladder...
The girl sat down on the steps that led to the luxurious door. She thought and thought and thought, puzzling different strategies in her head until she couldn't think anymore and was seriously considering returning home.
Just as she stood and dusted off her cloak, the door opened and someone walked out. (Y/n)'s heart stopped and she slowly turned to face the person, expecting to see one of her best friend's parents staring at her with disgust. Thankfully, the individual whom had just exited the large home was none other than Leiah, the very person she had been longing to speak to.
“(Y/n)?” questioned Leiah, raising a perfect eyebrow. “What brings you here?”
“Leiah!” exclaimed (y/n) in relief. “I need to talk to you.”
“Okay! I was heading out anyways,” said Leiah. “Where to?”
“Let's just walk and talk,” said (y/n). “That way, never of our parents will scold or bug us.”
Leiah nodded and the two friends began their stroll.
When (y/n) woke up, a wave of anxiety surged through her body as she remembered yesterday's events and realized that the ball her best friend had invited her to was that night.
Normally, the girl would groan and lay in bed until her mother practically dragged her away from it, but today, the excitement gave (y/n) the energy to jump onto her feet, hastily change, put on a cheap winter cloak and dash to Leiah's home; she needed advice for tonight as early as possible to relieve her stress.
The girl was about to knock on the mansion's door with all her might when she remembered that Leiah's parents didn't quite enjoy (y/n)'s company. In fact, they called it a disgrace behind her back, considering the girl's low wealth.
(Y/n) began to worry that Leiah may have not informed her parents about the fact that their daughter had invited someone like her to a classy ball which was only attended by high-ranking families. If her concerns were true, then maybe she would get Leiah in trouble, or get herself kicked out of the Christmas Ball. Both of those possibilities terrified (y/n), so she lowered her hand away from the door and thought for a minute.
(Y/n) knew she needed to talk to Leiah without having to go through her parents, but how? The only entrance was the one in front of her, and there was no way she could climb though the window without a ladder...
The girl sat down on the steps that led to the luxurious door. She thought and thought and thought, puzzling different strategies in her head until she couldn't think anymore and was seriously considering returning home.
Just as she stood and dusted off her cloak, the door opened and someone walked out. (Y/n)'s heart stopped and she slowly turned to face the person, expecting to see one of her best friend's parents staring at her with disgust. Thankfully, the individual whom had just exited the large home was none other than Leiah, the very person she had been longing to speak to.
“(Y/n)?” questioned Leiah, raising a perfect eyebrow. “What brings you here?”
“Leiah!” exclaimed (y/n) in relief. “I need to talk to you.”
“Okay! I was heading out anyways,” said Leiah. “Where to?”
“Let's just walk and talk,” said (y/n). “That way, never of our parents will scold or bug us.”
Leiah nodded and the two friends began their stroll.
*~*~*~*
”Wait, that's what you're worried about?”
(Y/n) had just finished reciting her long list of anxieties and doubts concerning the Christmas Ball to Leiah as the two friends walked through the downtown market.
“Yeah,” confirmed (y/n). “Is that not normal?”
Leiah started laughing. (Y/n) gave her a confused look.
“Oh (y/n),” she said between giggles. “You worry too much. These people will think you're as noble as they are, so they won't make fun of your hairdo or whatever you're scared of.”
(Y/n) blushed at how ridicule her worries sounded. “Hey,” she defended. “Easy for you to say! You do stuff like this all the time!”
Leiah stopped laughing.
“Seriously though,” she informed. “If there's anything I've learned, it's to act cool and chill. Trust me. It'll make you look more 'professional'.”
The girl playfully slapped (y/n)'s back. “Relax! You'll do fine!” she encouraged.
“Yeah, I hope so,” replied (y/n).
Leiah glanced at the sun. “Oh, it's almost noon! Crap! I'll see you later!” she said before dashing away in the direction of her house.
“Wait!” shouted (y/n). “When do I come over and get ready?”
Leiah turned for a second and yelled, “6:30! Gotta go!”
“O-okay! I'll see you then!” said (y/n), though she was pretty sure that Leiah could no longer hear her.
(Y/n) continued walking past interesting booths in the market and decided to buy something for her mother, considering that Christmas was today. Some jewellery, some nice clothes or some good-quality food might do the trick...
Something purple caught the girl's eye. She suddenly stopped walking, much to the annoyance of the people behind her who almost fell over. After muttering a small apology, (y/n) walked over to the booth where the purple distraction came from.
A gorgeous purple shirt that was exactly her mother's style hung as an advertisement. The girl stared at it for a few seconds before the booth owner interrupted her observance.
“Hello, madame?" he asked in an accent. “May I ’elp you?”
(Y/n) snapped out of her daze and took a good look at the man. He had gorgeous long blond hair tied in a loose ponytail with a bow and dazzling blue eyes. He had somewhat of a beard on the lower part of his chin and a in-style outfit. This man was generally... handsome.
“Um, yeah,” replied (y/n). “How much for that purple shirt?”
"Zhat will be 200 gold coins, ma chérie," he informed. “It is very pretty, non?"
(Y/n)'s jaw dropped. 200 gold coins? She didn't even have 10!
“I-I” she stuttered. “I d-don't think I-I'm interested anymore...”
The man gave her a concerned look. “What's wrong, ma belle?"
The girl stared at her feet, embarrassed. “I can't afford this shirt, no matter how beautiful it is. Sorry,” she apologized.
The man smiled. “Don't worry your beautiful face, ma chérie!" he said sweetly.
(Y/n) looked up to meet his blue eyes.
“I will absolutely lower the price for a belle madame like you!" he exclaimed. She blushed slightly.
“T-thanks,” she said. “How much will it be?”
“'ow much do you have?”
(Y/n) reached into her pocket and pulled out five gold coins. She cringed and looked away while showing the man.
“O-oh,” he said, losing his smile. “I-is zhat all you ’ave?”
She nodded slowly. “I understand if it's not enough.”
The man thought for a few minutes. “W-well-”
He was interrupted by a sudden voice popping out of nowhere behind (y/n).
“Of course that's not enough!” exclaimed the voice. “To think even for a second that she might be able to afford such luxury...”
It was a hooded figure- a rich-looking one at that- with a classy British accent.
(Y/n) jumped at the sudden voice and cast her gaze toward the hooded figure. She couldn't quite make out who it was, since the cloak shadowed most of the person's face, but something told her that it was no ordinary fellow...
The cloaked person seemed to be taken aback by the girl's stare and took a few steps back. She continued staring at it, confused, unbeknownst to what was happening beneath the hood.
The person wasn't supposed to be there but he couldn't help himself; hence the hood to conceal his appearance. The individual didn't understand how he was somehow attracted to this young girl, even though she was as average and poor as most of the villagers. And yet...
“I-I'll pay the bloody thing for you,” said the person quickly, desperate for (y/n) to get out of his face before she realized who he really was. And that he was, well, blushing.
(Y/n) backed up in shock and stared at the hooded figure from a farther distance this time. “Y-you'll what?” she asked in disbelief.
“You heard me,” he said.
“B-but I don't even know you!” argued (y/n). “W-why are you doing this?”
“B-because,” the man puzzled for a good reason. “Because it's Christmas!”
“B-but-” began (y/n).
The man sighed. “Do you want the bloody shirt or not?” he asked irritably.
“Uh,” muttered (y/n), not sure how to answer the question. Sure, she wanted the shirt for her mother, but she just felt so guilty letting this kind stranger pay for it...
By the time the girl had come up with an answer, the man was shoving a paper bag in her arms. When (y/n) looked inside, there was the lovely purple shirt she had been puzzling over.
She looked up to thank the generous stranger, but then she noticed that he was already dashing away.
When he was almost out of sight, the wind knocked his hood over. It was only down for a fraction of a second, but (y/n) caught a glimpse of one of his features.
His hair was a fine colour of blond.
(Y/n) had just finished reciting her long list of anxieties and doubts concerning the Christmas Ball to Leiah as the two friends walked through the downtown market.
“Yeah,” confirmed (y/n). “Is that not normal?”
Leiah started laughing. (Y/n) gave her a confused look.
“Oh (y/n),” she said between giggles. “You worry too much. These people will think you're as noble as they are, so they won't make fun of your hairdo or whatever you're scared of.”
(Y/n) blushed at how ridicule her worries sounded. “Hey,” she defended. “Easy for you to say! You do stuff like this all the time!”
Leiah stopped laughing.
“Seriously though,” she informed. “If there's anything I've learned, it's to act cool and chill. Trust me. It'll make you look more 'professional'.”
The girl playfully slapped (y/n)'s back. “Relax! You'll do fine!” she encouraged.
“Yeah, I hope so,” replied (y/n).
Leiah glanced at the sun. “Oh, it's almost noon! Crap! I'll see you later!” she said before dashing away in the direction of her house.
“Wait!” shouted (y/n). “When do I come over and get ready?”
Leiah turned for a second and yelled, “6:30! Gotta go!”
“O-okay! I'll see you then!” said (y/n), though she was pretty sure that Leiah could no longer hear her.
(Y/n) continued walking past interesting booths in the market and decided to buy something for her mother, considering that Christmas was today. Some jewellery, some nice clothes or some good-quality food might do the trick...
Something purple caught the girl's eye. She suddenly stopped walking, much to the annoyance of the people behind her who almost fell over. After muttering a small apology, (y/n) walked over to the booth where the purple distraction came from.
A gorgeous purple shirt that was exactly her mother's style hung as an advertisement. The girl stared at it for a few seconds before the booth owner interrupted her observance.
“Hello, madame?" he asked in an accent. “May I ’elp you?”
(Y/n) snapped out of her daze and took a good look at the man. He had gorgeous long blond hair tied in a loose ponytail with a bow and dazzling blue eyes. He had somewhat of a beard on the lower part of his chin and a in-style outfit. This man was generally... handsome.
“Um, yeah,” replied (y/n). “How much for that purple shirt?”
"Zhat will be 200 gold coins, ma chérie," he informed. “It is very pretty, non?"
(Y/n)'s jaw dropped. 200 gold coins? She didn't even have 10!
“I-I” she stuttered. “I d-don't think I-I'm interested anymore...”
The man gave her a concerned look. “What's wrong, ma belle?"
The girl stared at her feet, embarrassed. “I can't afford this shirt, no matter how beautiful it is. Sorry,” she apologized.
The man smiled. “Don't worry your beautiful face, ma chérie!" he said sweetly.
(Y/n) looked up to meet his blue eyes.
“I will absolutely lower the price for a belle madame like you!" he exclaimed. She blushed slightly.
“T-thanks,” she said. “How much will it be?”
“'ow much do you have?”
(Y/n) reached into her pocket and pulled out five gold coins. She cringed and looked away while showing the man.
“O-oh,” he said, losing his smile. “I-is zhat all you ’ave?”
She nodded slowly. “I understand if it's not enough.”
The man thought for a few minutes. “W-well-”
He was interrupted by a sudden voice popping out of nowhere behind (y/n).
“Of course that's not enough!” exclaimed the voice. “To think even for a second that she might be able to afford such luxury...”
It was a hooded figure- a rich-looking one at that- with a classy British accent.
(Y/n) jumped at the sudden voice and cast her gaze toward the hooded figure. She couldn't quite make out who it was, since the cloak shadowed most of the person's face, but something told her that it was no ordinary fellow...
The cloaked person seemed to be taken aback by the girl's stare and took a few steps back. She continued staring at it, confused, unbeknownst to what was happening beneath the hood.
The person wasn't supposed to be there but he couldn't help himself; hence the hood to conceal his appearance. The individual didn't understand how he was somehow attracted to this young girl, even though she was as average and poor as most of the villagers. And yet...
“I-I'll pay the bloody thing for you,” said the person quickly, desperate for (y/n) to get out of his face before she realized who he really was. And that he was, well, blushing.
(Y/n) backed up in shock and stared at the hooded figure from a farther distance this time. “Y-you'll what?” she asked in disbelief.
“You heard me,” he said.
“B-but I don't even know you!” argued (y/n). “W-why are you doing this?”
“B-because,” the man puzzled for a good reason. “Because it's Christmas!”
“B-but-” began (y/n).
The man sighed. “Do you want the bloody shirt or not?” he asked irritably.
“Uh,” muttered (y/n), not sure how to answer the question. Sure, she wanted the shirt for her mother, but she just felt so guilty letting this kind stranger pay for it...
By the time the girl had come up with an answer, the man was shoving a paper bag in her arms. When (y/n) looked inside, there was the lovely purple shirt she had been puzzling over.
She looked up to thank the generous stranger, but then she noticed that he was already dashing away.
When he was almost out of sight, the wind knocked his hood over. It was only down for a fraction of a second, but (y/n) caught a glimpse of one of his features.
His hair was a fine colour of blond.
*~*~*~*
”Ow, that hurts!”
(Y/n) complained loudly as she sat in a fluffy chair in Leiah's room and as her best friend pulled her hair into a tight bun for the Christmas Ball that would occur in two hours.
“Quit whining already,” groaned Leiah, irritated. “If you want this to look nice, it needs to be tight.”
“Alright,” said (y/n), sighing in defeat. She slumped back in her chair and cringed every time Leiah pulled out a few strands of her hair.
Then, her thoughts began to wander to the unusual turn of events that had occurred that afternoon.
Who the heck was that guy? And why did he buy the shirt for someone he never talked to? Sure, like he said, it was Christmas, but still, it didn't make sense to (y/n)...
“Ow!” she couldn't help herself this time; Leiah had pulled rather roughly on her hairdo.
“Sorry,” said Leiah, still focused on her friend's hair.
After another painful ten minutes of attempts at making ’The Perfect Bun’, (y/n)'s hair was finally finished.
“There,” said Leiah with satisfaction. “It looks great!”
(Y/n) smiled. “Thanks!”
“Well,” continued Leiah. “We should get changed now! It's almost time!”
She gave an excited squeal and dashed into her closet, pulling out two dresses.
“This one,” she informed, gesturing to an extremely puffy pink dress, “is mine.”
(Y/n) forced a smile, but deep down, she thought the dress was just hideous.
“And that one,” she added, pointing to the second dress, “is for you!”
Leiah handed (y/n) the second dress and the girl gazed at it admiringly for a few minutes.
It was a gorgeous maroon colour and it the top part showed a few glittery fake-diamonds. On one side there was a vine-like pattern. The skirt was poofy, but not extremely so.
“Wow!” she exclaimed in awe. “This is... amazing!”
Leiah smiled. “I'm glad you like it!”
“Yes, very much!” confirmed (y/n). “Thank you so much!”
“No problem! Now, let's get changed!”
And so they did.
(Y/n) complained loudly as she sat in a fluffy chair in Leiah's room and as her best friend pulled her hair into a tight bun for the Christmas Ball that would occur in two hours.
“Quit whining already,” groaned Leiah, irritated. “If you want this to look nice, it needs to be tight.”
“Alright,” said (y/n), sighing in defeat. She slumped back in her chair and cringed every time Leiah pulled out a few strands of her hair.
Then, her thoughts began to wander to the unusual turn of events that had occurred that afternoon.
Who the heck was that guy? And why did he buy the shirt for someone he never talked to? Sure, like he said, it was Christmas, but still, it didn't make sense to (y/n)...
“Ow!” she couldn't help herself this time; Leiah had pulled rather roughly on her hairdo.
“Sorry,” said Leiah, still focused on her friend's hair.
After another painful ten minutes of attempts at making ’The Perfect Bun’, (y/n)'s hair was finally finished.
“There,” said Leiah with satisfaction. “It looks great!”
(Y/n) smiled. “Thanks!”
“Well,” continued Leiah. “We should get changed now! It's almost time!”
She gave an excited squeal and dashed into her closet, pulling out two dresses.
“This one,” she informed, gesturing to an extremely puffy pink dress, “is mine.”
(Y/n) forced a smile, but deep down, she thought the dress was just hideous.
“And that one,” she added, pointing to the second dress, “is for you!”
Leiah handed (y/n) the second dress and the girl gazed at it admiringly for a few minutes.
It was a gorgeous maroon colour and it the top part showed a few glittery fake-diamonds. On one side there was a vine-like pattern. The skirt was poofy, but not extremely so.
“Wow!” she exclaimed in awe. “This is... amazing!”
Leiah smiled. “I'm glad you like it!”
“Yes, very much!” confirmed (y/n). “Thank you so much!”
“No problem! Now, let's get changed!”
And so they did.
*~*~*~*
The palace doors opened precisely on time.
The King fiddled nervously with the collar of his suit. He always felt quite anxious on special occasions like this, but this time was much, much worse.
You see, he had pressured to find a rich lover at this ball from the French kingdom (whom had been invited peacefully) so his country's wealth would become greater.
But, the thing was, King Arthur had no interest in marrying. Or at least not without falling in love firsthand. So the level of stress he was going through was understandable.
Arthur checked his appearance in the mirror. He had to look noble, but not superior so he could blend into the crowd. This was a masquerade, after all, so everyone's appearance would be concealed.
His messy blond hair and green eyes were a dead giveaway to his identity though. He just prayed that no one would put two and two together.
There was a knock on Arthur's bedroom door. He squeaked, startled.
“Sire,” called a voice from a nervous guard. “Are you ready yet? The doors have opened.”
“I-I'll be out in a minute,” replied Arthur, attempting to recover from the sudden sound.
The King glanced at the mirror one last time, adjusted his outfit, put on his mask and exited the room.
Meanwhile, downstairs in the party room, (y/n) stared at the lovely scenery in awe from the safe concealment of her mask.
The girl still couldn't believe her luck. First, Leiah had given her an amazing opportunity; to attend the Christmas Ball. Second, a stranger had bought her mother an expensive shirt ’because it was Christmas'. Then, (y/n)'s mother, joyful from the sudden gift, had accepted to let her daughter attend the grand celebration.
Only one thing bothered her; her mother's request. (Y/n) had been asked to find someone rich and kind to marry at the Christmas Ball to improve the family's wealth. The only problem was: (y/n) had no interest in marrying. Or at least not without falling in love firsthand. So the level of stress she was going through was understandable.
(Y/n) spotted a table filled with mouthwatering treats and was instantly attracted to it, much to Leiah's annoyance.
She had barely taken a few steps in it's direction when Leiah angrily whispered, “Don't you dare!”
(Y/n) stopped walking. “Why not?” she asked.
Leiah rolled her eyes as if this were something they learned in grade 1. “Remember what I told you?” she asked. “Look chill. Act professional.”
(Y/n) pouted. “Fine,” she muttered. “But can I at least have one?”
Leiah sighed in defeat and gestured toward the table across the room. (Y/n) smirked and made her way toward it.
She looked at the treats in the most ’sophisticated' way she could manage and finally settled on a small gingerbread cookie in the shape of a snowflake. (Y/n) took a small, ’classy’ bite out of it and suddenly felt like she was being watched.
Her eyes scanned the room, trying to find that one other pair that was gazing at her.
She found it. The owner of the eyes was a handsome, rich-looking man with...
that
unique
blond
hair.
The King fiddled nervously with the collar of his suit. He always felt quite anxious on special occasions like this, but this time was much, much worse.
You see, he had pressured to find a rich lover at this ball from the French kingdom (whom had been invited peacefully) so his country's wealth would become greater.
But, the thing was, King Arthur had no interest in marrying. Or at least not without falling in love firsthand. So the level of stress he was going through was understandable.
Arthur checked his appearance in the mirror. He had to look noble, but not superior so he could blend into the crowd. This was a masquerade, after all, so everyone's appearance would be concealed.
His messy blond hair and green eyes were a dead giveaway to his identity though. He just prayed that no one would put two and two together.
There was a knock on Arthur's bedroom door. He squeaked, startled.
“Sire,” called a voice from a nervous guard. “Are you ready yet? The doors have opened.”
“I-I'll be out in a minute,” replied Arthur, attempting to recover from the sudden sound.
The King glanced at the mirror one last time, adjusted his outfit, put on his mask and exited the room.
Meanwhile, downstairs in the party room, (y/n) stared at the lovely scenery in awe from the safe concealment of her mask.
The girl still couldn't believe her luck. First, Leiah had given her an amazing opportunity; to attend the Christmas Ball. Second, a stranger had bought her mother an expensive shirt ’because it was Christmas'. Then, (y/n)'s mother, joyful from the sudden gift, had accepted to let her daughter attend the grand celebration.
Only one thing bothered her; her mother's request. (Y/n) had been asked to find someone rich and kind to marry at the Christmas Ball to improve the family's wealth. The only problem was: (y/n) had no interest in marrying. Or at least not without falling in love firsthand. So the level of stress she was going through was understandable.
(Y/n) spotted a table filled with mouthwatering treats and was instantly attracted to it, much to Leiah's annoyance.
She had barely taken a few steps in it's direction when Leiah angrily whispered, “Don't you dare!”
(Y/n) stopped walking. “Why not?” she asked.
Leiah rolled her eyes as if this were something they learned in grade 1. “Remember what I told you?” she asked. “Look chill. Act professional.”
(Y/n) pouted. “Fine,” she muttered. “But can I at least have one?”
Leiah sighed in defeat and gestured toward the table across the room. (Y/n) smirked and made her way toward it.
She looked at the treats in the most ’sophisticated' way she could manage and finally settled on a small gingerbread cookie in the shape of a snowflake. (Y/n) took a small, ’classy’ bite out of it and suddenly felt like she was being watched.
Her eyes scanned the room, trying to find that one other pair that was gazing at her.
She found it. The owner of the eyes was a handsome, rich-looking man with...
that
unique
blond
hair.
*~*~*~*
Arthur couldn't believe his eyes.
A beautiful young woman with those (e/c) eyes and that (h/c) hair stood at the snack table, discretely munching on a gingerbread cookie. Her dress was stunning, her hair was perfectly done... She looked like a different person.
But why did Arthur get the feeling that this was the girl he'd helped out as a hooded figure?
Suddenly, her eyes met his, and his suspicions were confirmed. Those were the same eyes that had made his cheeks burn under that shadowing cloak, that had almost seen right through his disguise...
Wait a second. If she couldn't afford that shirt for 200 gold coins, how did she manage to buy a dress like that?
His best guess was that either she had gotten it from a relative or friend, or that she had been lying to him.
Arthur puzzled over these possibilities and decided that he needed to talk to the girl. Now.
A rather slow waltz began to play and people starting pairing up. The girl looked around nervously for a partner and Arthur decided to make his move.
However, only steps away from the girl, another man offered her a dance. He had long blond hair tied in a ponytail and a very fashionable outfit...
Arthur's lip curled in disgust. Of all people, it had to be that guy...
“Ohonhonhon~” laughed the man in a flirtatious way, grabbing (y/n)'s hand. “Would you like to dance, ma chérie?"
(Y/n) froze, not knowing what to reply. She clearly didn't have any experience with people like him.
“I-I” she stuttered. The man winked.
’That's it,’ thought Arthur. He stormed over to the girl's location, smacked the other man's hand away from her wrist and pulled her toward the dance floor with him.
She gave a surprised squeak, but didn't fight back.
“I apologize for my rudeness,” said the man whom had just pulled her away from the flirty other guy.
(Y/n) took a good look at him. He was refusing to meet her eyes and his cheeks were dusted pink. A mask shielded most of his facial features, but she could make out gorgeous green eyes. His hair was messy and blond. He wore a very fancy outfit.
No doubt about it; this was the man whom had been staring at her a few moments ago.
He placed one hand on her waist and held her hand with the other as she placed her free arm on his shoulders. They began to dance slowly, following the beat of the music.
“I-It's alright,” replied (y/n).
“So,” began the man casually, “what did you do for Christmas?”
“Oh,” said (y/n), a little taken aback by the question. “Well, I...”
The girl stopped herself just in time. She was about to tell the man the truth, to tell him that she was poor and that she hadn't really done anything or received anything for Christmas...
She began to piece together a convincing lie from what Leiah had told her about her Christmas.
“Well, when I woke up,” she said, praying that she sounded truthful, my little sister dragged me out of bed to open presents. After that, we had some fun time with my relatives.”
The man didn't look convinced. “Is that all? No feast or anything? What kind of presents did you get?”
“Y-yeah,” she stuttered. Dang it, he could see through her lie! “We had a great feast with goose and everything. And I got some gold coins to spend on myself and some pretty clothes.”
“What about your parents? What kind of presents did you get them?”
Arthur knew that she was lying, and he intended to find out if she was really that girl...
“My dad got a new pair of slippers and a bunch of books about wine; he adores them. My mom... well... I bought her a purple sweater from the market.”
At least that was somewhat truthful.
“A purple sweater, you say?” questioned the man, raising an eyebrow. “What does it look like?”
(Y/n) pictured the sweater she had given her mother in her mind and described it carefully.
“Hmm,” said the man thoughtfully. “A sweater like that must be one of a kind. Did you buy it in the market?”
(Y/n)'s body temperature rose. “Y-yes,” she confirmed.
“That's funny,” he mused. “I recall seeing a poor villager buying that shirt at the market.”
“B-but,” said (y/n), desperately searching for something to cover her identity up. “How on earth could someone as poor as she is ever afford something of that luxury?”
“How indeed.”
(Y/n) stared thoughtfully at his hair for a few minutes. She was sure that she had seen it once before, not long ago, briefly...
The girl gasped. The hooded cloak. The blond hair. The person underneath the disguise, the generous donator...
“I-it was you?” she asked in disbelief. The man smirked.
“So you are that lovely young lady,” he said triumphantly. “I thought so.”
“W-who are you, anyways?” she questioned.
The blonde looked around cautiously, lowered himself to (y/n)'s ear and whispered, “I own this palace. Take a guess?”
Her eyes widened. “Your highness,” she breathed. “I had no idea...”
“Call me Arthur, love,” he said, smiling. “Would you tell me your name?”
“I-I'm-”
The song ended there and (y/n) spotted Leiah waving her over... Unable to stay there dancing with the King as if she had the importance to, the girl dashed toward her friend, ignoring his calls of “Wait!”.
Leiah noticed (y/n)'s shocked expression and gestured for the girl to follow her onto the large outside balcony where they could talk in private.
“(Y/n)!” whispered Leiah so nobody could hear the girl's real name. “Who was that guy? He was so hot!”
(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “The King,” she replied quietly.
Leiah's eyes widened and she gasped. “That's the King! He's so handsome!”
She sighed dreamily. “You're so lucky (y/n)!” she said. “I was watching the whole time! Even through his mask I can tell that he's interested in you!”
(Y/n) pinched the bridge of her nose. “Exactly the problem,” she said. “He's interested in me, but he knows who I really am. That I'm poor, I mean.”
“That's terrible!” exclaimed Leiah. (Y/n) quieted her down so they wouldn't be noticed. “But there's one thing that I don't understand...”
“Which is what?” asked (y/n), raising an eyebrow.
“If he knows that you're poor and that only the rich are supposed to be here,” she said, “why didn't he kick you out?”
“I don't know!” said (y/n), throwing her hands in the air. “I just don't understand...”
She sighed and leaned on the railing of the balcony.
“Well,” spoke Leiah finally, “I've got to head back to the ballroom. Someone wants to dance with me. Will you be okay here?”
“Yeah,” comfirmed (y/n). “I'll be alright.”
A beautiful young woman with those (e/c) eyes and that (h/c) hair stood at the snack table, discretely munching on a gingerbread cookie. Her dress was stunning, her hair was perfectly done... She looked like a different person.
But why did Arthur get the feeling that this was the girl he'd helped out as a hooded figure?
Suddenly, her eyes met his, and his suspicions were confirmed. Those were the same eyes that had made his cheeks burn under that shadowing cloak, that had almost seen right through his disguise...
Wait a second. If she couldn't afford that shirt for 200 gold coins, how did she manage to buy a dress like that?
His best guess was that either she had gotten it from a relative or friend, or that she had been lying to him.
Arthur puzzled over these possibilities and decided that he needed to talk to the girl. Now.
A rather slow waltz began to play and people starting pairing up. The girl looked around nervously for a partner and Arthur decided to make his move.
However, only steps away from the girl, another man offered her a dance. He had long blond hair tied in a ponytail and a very fashionable outfit...
Arthur's lip curled in disgust. Of all people, it had to be that guy...
“Ohonhonhon~” laughed the man in a flirtatious way, grabbing (y/n)'s hand. “Would you like to dance, ma chérie?"
(Y/n) froze, not knowing what to reply. She clearly didn't have any experience with people like him.
“I-I” she stuttered. The man winked.
’That's it,’ thought Arthur. He stormed over to the girl's location, smacked the other man's hand away from her wrist and pulled her toward the dance floor with him.
She gave a surprised squeak, but didn't fight back.
“I apologize for my rudeness,” said the man whom had just pulled her away from the flirty other guy.
(Y/n) took a good look at him. He was refusing to meet her eyes and his cheeks were dusted pink. A mask shielded most of his facial features, but she could make out gorgeous green eyes. His hair was messy and blond. He wore a very fancy outfit.
No doubt about it; this was the man whom had been staring at her a few moments ago.
He placed one hand on her waist and held her hand with the other as she placed her free arm on his shoulders. They began to dance slowly, following the beat of the music.
“I-It's alright,” replied (y/n).
“So,” began the man casually, “what did you do for Christmas?”
“Oh,” said (y/n), a little taken aback by the question. “Well, I...”
The girl stopped herself just in time. She was about to tell the man the truth, to tell him that she was poor and that she hadn't really done anything or received anything for Christmas...
She began to piece together a convincing lie from what Leiah had told her about her Christmas.
“Well, when I woke up,” she said, praying that she sounded truthful, my little sister dragged me out of bed to open presents. After that, we had some fun time with my relatives.”
The man didn't look convinced. “Is that all? No feast or anything? What kind of presents did you get?”
“Y-yeah,” she stuttered. Dang it, he could see through her lie! “We had a great feast with goose and everything. And I got some gold coins to spend on myself and some pretty clothes.”
“What about your parents? What kind of presents did you get them?”
Arthur knew that she was lying, and he intended to find out if she was really that girl...
“My dad got a new pair of slippers and a bunch of books about wine; he adores them. My mom... well... I bought her a purple sweater from the market.”
At least that was somewhat truthful.
“A purple sweater, you say?” questioned the man, raising an eyebrow. “What does it look like?”
(Y/n) pictured the sweater she had given her mother in her mind and described it carefully.
“Hmm,” said the man thoughtfully. “A sweater like that must be one of a kind. Did you buy it in the market?”
(Y/n)'s body temperature rose. “Y-yes,” she confirmed.
“That's funny,” he mused. “I recall seeing a poor villager buying that shirt at the market.”
“B-but,” said (y/n), desperately searching for something to cover her identity up. “How on earth could someone as poor as she is ever afford something of that luxury?”
“How indeed.”
(Y/n) stared thoughtfully at his hair for a few minutes. She was sure that she had seen it once before, not long ago, briefly...
The girl gasped. The hooded cloak. The blond hair. The person underneath the disguise, the generous donator...
“I-it was you?” she asked in disbelief. The man smirked.
“So you are that lovely young lady,” he said triumphantly. “I thought so.”
“W-who are you, anyways?” she questioned.
The blonde looked around cautiously, lowered himself to (y/n)'s ear and whispered, “I own this palace. Take a guess?”
Her eyes widened. “Your highness,” she breathed. “I had no idea...”
“Call me Arthur, love,” he said, smiling. “Would you tell me your name?”
“I-I'm-”
The song ended there and (y/n) spotted Leiah waving her over... Unable to stay there dancing with the King as if she had the importance to, the girl dashed toward her friend, ignoring his calls of “Wait!”.
Leiah noticed (y/n)'s shocked expression and gestured for the girl to follow her onto the large outside balcony where they could talk in private.
“(Y/n)!” whispered Leiah so nobody could hear the girl's real name. “Who was that guy? He was so hot!”
(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “The King,” she replied quietly.
Leiah's eyes widened and she gasped. “That's the King! He's so handsome!”
She sighed dreamily. “You're so lucky (y/n)!” she said. “I was watching the whole time! Even through his mask I can tell that he's interested in you!”
(Y/n) pinched the bridge of her nose. “Exactly the problem,” she said. “He's interested in me, but he knows who I really am. That I'm poor, I mean.”
“That's terrible!” exclaimed Leiah. (Y/n) quieted her down so they wouldn't be noticed. “But there's one thing that I don't understand...”
“Which is what?” asked (y/n), raising an eyebrow.
“If he knows that you're poor and that only the rich are supposed to be here,” she said, “why didn't he kick you out?”
“I don't know!” said (y/n), throwing her hands in the air. “I just don't understand...”
She sighed and leaned on the railing of the balcony.
“Well,” spoke Leiah finally, “I've got to head back to the ballroom. Someone wants to dance with me. Will you be okay here?”
“Yeah,” comfirmed (y/n). “I'll be alright.”
*~*~*~*
(Y/n) watched her best friend dance with a handsome man from the safety of the balcony. She smiled, happy that her friend had found someone.
Suddenly, a rather familiar scream sounded, along with a large number of excited feminine screams.
In a blur, someone dashed onto the empty balcony and shut the large glass doors. A flock of squealing women pressed their faces against the glass, admiring the man whom had just exited the ballroom.
“That bloody frog-faced Frenchie,” cursed the man between breaths. “How dare he remove my mask...”
“Um, hello,” said (y/n) awkwardly.
A mask-less Arthur turned to face her and smiled a little. “Hello (y/n). I was wondering where you had run off to.”
He jumped when one of his ’fangirls’ pounded particularly loudly on the door and shouted, “MARRY ME, KING ARTHUR!”
“Go away!” he shouted, scared. (Y/n) muffled a laugh with her hand.
“Your highness,” she said with a smirk, trying to contain her giggles. “Just how do you plan on getting out of here?”
He looked at her with wide eyes. “Bloody hell...”
“If you don't want to go in there,” she informed, “you're gonna either have to climb down or find another way.”
(Y/n) jerked her head in the direction of a conveniently-placed ladder next to the doors.
Suddenly, a rather familiar scream sounded, along with a large number of excited feminine screams.
In a blur, someone dashed onto the empty balcony and shut the large glass doors. A flock of squealing women pressed their faces against the glass, admiring the man whom had just exited the ballroom.
“That bloody frog-faced Frenchie,” cursed the man between breaths. “How dare he remove my mask...”
“Um, hello,” said (y/n) awkwardly.
A mask-less Arthur turned to face her and smiled a little. “Hello (y/n). I was wondering where you had run off to.”
He jumped when one of his ’fangirls’ pounded particularly loudly on the door and shouted, “MARRY ME, KING ARTHUR!”
“Go away!” he shouted, scared. (Y/n) muffled a laugh with her hand.
“Your highness,” she said with a smirk, trying to contain her giggles. “Just how do you plan on getting out of here?”
He looked at her with wide eyes. “Bloody hell...”
“If you don't want to go in there,” she informed, “you're gonna either have to climb down or find another way.”
(Y/n) jerked her head in the direction of a conveniently-placed ladder next to the doors.
*~*~*~*
The girl couldn't believe it.
She was walking home. Like on any other day. However, this time, she wore a fancy ballgown.
Oh, and the King was walking next to her.
The two had climbed down the ladder to escape Arthur's ’fangirls’. Then, they had laughed together as if they were good friends.
Finally, since the night was ending, Arthur had offered to walk (y/n) home.
“This was quite nice,” said Arthur, interrupting (y/n)'s train of thoughts.
She smiled. “Yeah.”
Her house came into view. They stopped walking at her doorstep.
“I do wish to see you again,” he informed. “No matter what.”
Her grin grew and she kissed his cheek gently. “Of course.”
He smiled sheepishly, bowed, and walked away.
She entered her home and went to sleep.
She was walking home. Like on any other day. However, this time, she wore a fancy ballgown.
Oh, and the King was walking next to her.
The two had climbed down the ladder to escape Arthur's ’fangirls’. Then, they had laughed together as if they were good friends.
Finally, since the night was ending, Arthur had offered to walk (y/n) home.
“This was quite nice,” said Arthur, interrupting (y/n)'s train of thoughts.
She smiled. “Yeah.”
Her house came into view. They stopped walking at her doorstep.
“I do wish to see you again,” he informed. “No matter what.”
Her grin grew and she kissed his cheek gently. “Of course.”
He smiled sheepishly, bowed, and walked away.
She entered her home and went to sleep.
*~*~*~*
The next morning, the Tax Collector was back.
(Y/n) stood on the inside of her home as that unwanted visitor stayed on her doormat.
“Why are you here?” she asked him. “It isn't taxes day yet and I do not intend to pay today.”
“Miss (l/n),” he said as if addressing her formally was painful. “I come to deliver a message from his highness King Arthur.”
(Y/n)'s heart fluttered at the mention of the King's name.
The Tax Collector pulled out a roll of parchment and handed it to her.
“Also,” he added with a frown, “I won't be back here anymore. King Arthur the great has freed you of taxes.”
(Y/n) smiled and slammed the door in his face.
Then, she read the note.
’Dear (y/n),
Remember what I told you yesterday? That I would see you again?
Well, I have lots of time. Come over when you can. No need to knock.
Also, I hope that the tax guy informed you about the whole ’tax release’ situation. I can tell that he didn't like you. I don't really like him either.
Anyways, I look forward to our next meeting.
Because I have finally found someone worth falling in love with.
Yours truly,
~Arthur'
(Y/n) stood on the inside of her home as that unwanted visitor stayed on her doormat.
“Why are you here?” she asked him. “It isn't taxes day yet and I do not intend to pay today.”
“Miss (l/n),” he said as if addressing her formally was painful. “I come to deliver a message from his highness King Arthur.”
(Y/n)'s heart fluttered at the mention of the King's name.
The Tax Collector pulled out a roll of parchment and handed it to her.
“Also,” he added with a frown, “I won't be back here anymore. King Arthur the great has freed you of taxes.”
(Y/n) smiled and slammed the door in his face.
Then, she read the note.
’Dear (y/n),
Remember what I told you yesterday? That I would see you again?
Well, I have lots of time. Come over when you can. No need to knock.
Also, I hope that the tax guy informed you about the whole ’tax release’ situation. I can tell that he didn't like you. I don't really like him either.
Anyways, I look forward to our next meeting.
Because I have finally found someone worth falling in love with.
Yours truly,
~Arthur'
*~*~*~*
"And there you have it; the tale of how King Arthur met Queen (y/n)."
A grandmother smiled down at her young daughter who sat next to her on their couch and closed the book she had been reading to her.
"But Granny," said the little girl in a cute voice. "How did a Great King like Arthur fall in love with a villager like (y/n)?"
The grandmother chuckled and kissed the top of the girl's head.
"You could say that they were brought together by fate, or by the holiday spirit.
"Christmas is magic, after all."
~The rest is up to you~
A grandmother smiled down at her young daughter who sat next to her on their couch and closed the book she had been reading to her.
"But Granny," said the little girl in a cute voice. "How did a Great King like Arthur fall in love with a villager like (y/n)?"
The grandmother chuckled and kissed the top of the girl's head.
"You could say that they were brought together by fate, or by the holiday spirit.
"Christmas is magic, after all."
~The rest is up to you~
Literature
Prince!England x Princess!Reader - Run Away Part 2
The night dragged on, and you were able to get away from Francis eventually. Walking around the ballroom, you searched for a prince or duke's son to talk to, for once. You suddenly grew the feeling of complying to your father's desires, and to be honest with yourself, you were growing lonely as of late; you needed someone other than your parents or your maids and friends to keep you company, seeing as though the people listed are either stuck up and are socialites or are awkward. Scanning the hall, you searched for Arthur because he seemed like the only down to earth, normal person, as if he hadn't been poisoned by the prince-ly lifestyle.
Y
Literature
Prince!England x Princess!Reader - Run Away Part 1
Full title: Prince!England x Princess!Reader - Run Away, Princess
The sun was setting as you walked the halls of the castle. The day held yet another unsuccessful search for a perfect suitor for you organized by your parents, the king and queen of the country. You let out an exasperated sigh; it was the third day, and young men travelled from across the world to come and convince you to be their wives, but you still turned them down. It didn't matter to you if those princes and nobles were who they were. It didn't even matter to you if your parents were growing impatient. You took no interest in men who thought themselves as the best thing y
Literature
Prince!England x Princess!Reader - Part 1
Prince!England x Princess!Reader - Merry-Go-Round of Life
~~~
This was it.
The night that many long weeks of time-consuming preparation had led up to.
The night that had been the talk of the town.
The Royal Ball.
~
I stood beside one of the marble columns, glancing at the faces of guests that passed.
Suddenly a charming waltz filled the ballroom.
Couples flocked to the dance floor like white doves and began to spin rhythmically to the beautiful, yet somewhat melancholic melody.
My thoughts were interrupted by a gloved hand appearing in front of me and turned to see a handsome young man smiling.
“Would you care to dance?”
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I actually hate this story. That's why it took so long to finish. I just don't like it. Not my best work. 
Anyways, Merry Christmas!
I don't own Hetalia or you.
This cover art is by the lovely HoshikoxChi
I own the story.
Will you comment, love~?
Anyways, Merry Christmas!
I don't own Hetalia or you.
This cover art is by the lovely HoshikoxChi
I own the story.
Will you comment, love~? © 2014 - 2024 Katuccino
Comments74
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Overall
Vision
Originality Technique ImpactThe vision of this work is rated a 4, because I can clearly understand what point you are trying to get through your work. It was really adorable and I thoroughly enjoyed the story.
The originality is rated a 4.5 because I have not seen this twist on Robin Hood yet, and it was quite unique and fun to read. I can't give you a 5 because I've seen some variations to the Robin Hood "theme" in other fandoms.
The imagery in this story is really incredible. I would never be able to deliver that much detail into one story so flawlessly. The words and the setting all contribute to the climax and ending. I rate it a 5.
I wasn't necessarily "impacted", as you might say. I don't know what the general public thinks of that, because I'm usually rigid and not very good at understanding, duplicating, or possessing any emotions. Due to the conflict of personal opinion and factual "impact", I will rate you a 3.5.
I