the sun and the moon || h.s

b.

She smooths the periwinkle silk of her dress down before tightening her fur cape around her shoulders. The misty, chilled air hits her unceasingly as the ship sails onward and she shivers. However, she refuses to go below deck, for there, she'll be forced to think about the drastic change that her duty as Princess of France is cementing her into. She focuses her eyes on the dark green English Channel. How free some creatures are, for they have no crown holding them back from going wherever they pleased. "I do not want this." Marie whispers to no one but herself. "My God," She prays to her creator, "Please, I do not want this." She knows her future is set in stone, she's very much aware, but this doesn't stop her from pleading to him one last time.

"Marie," France's Queen, and her mother calls to her. "Come below, you'll fall ill." Protect the asset, at all costs. Marie shakes her head, keeping her arms tightly pressed against her stiff corset.

"I'd like to stay above deck, mother." The shores of Lochmore come into view, even through the heavy clouds of fog, and the Queen doesn't try to persuade her daughter further. Minutes later, she's standing between her parents, watching the Kingdom grow closer.

"You are to be on your best behavior. The future of our great Nation depends on it." Her father's cold, loveless words sting more than the brisk air.

"Your love for me, father, it's endearing."

"That temper is going to get you beheaded, darling. Keep it at bay." Her mother counters. Marie keeps her lips sealed, in fear of saying something that will truly anger the emotionless rulers. She remains quiet for the rest of the journey, she doesn't plan on speaking until it's absolutely necessary. As the carriage conveys them through the castle grounds, she feels as though she could be sick. 

Then, she hears the roar of the crowd outside. The buggy stops and the Queen plasters a faux smile on her made-up face. "Shall we?" The King takes her hand in his and they climb out, immediately waving. The people liked the fact that war was to be avoided, therefore, they liked the rulers of France. By default, of course. Marie wipes the tears from beneath her eyes and follows suit. Her smile is probably less convincing then her seasoned mother, but she certainly tries to keep it as joyful as possible. They walk down the stone pathway, towards the three awaiting English Royals. Queen Louisa steps forward first, taking Marie's hand in both of hers.

"Your Highness..." Marie bows down to the seemingly kind woman.

"My dear, you are a sight." She says, nicely. "We are overjoyed to have you here with us." The king steps towards her and kisses her hand.

"Welcome to England." Again, she bows to him.

"Merci, your Highness." Leopold takes his time in kissing both her cheeks.

"I'm honored to meet you, Princess Marie." He says, quietly. She nods and curtsies.

"The honor is mine, Prince Leopold."

"I apologize for the absence of our youngest, Harry. He's yet to return from his hunting expedition. He sends his regards." Queen Louisa adds, speaking to both Marie and her parents. "But please, come inside. We've prepared a celebration for your arrival. The niceties are out of the way, and soon enough, Marie is taken to her chambers. The moment she's alone, she breaks down, sobbing into her hand, as her other clutches her taut abdomen. The door opens and she immediately composes herself—rather, she tries to compose herself.

"Forgive me, your Highness, I was sent to assist you...would you like me to come back?" Marie shakes her head.

"No, no...you may come in." The young maid hurries in and begins undressing and redressing Marie in one of her many party dresses. The girl is timid, refusing to say much, and the Princess is more than fine with it. She's in no mood to speak to her, nor anyone, for that matter. But, the party awaits, so she mentally prepares herself for the abundance of social interaction she's about to endure, as part of her duty.

"If I may, you are breathtaking, m'lady." Marie smiles at the young girl.

"Merci, merci." As she steps out of her chambers, Prince Leopold is walking up to her. He bows and offers her his arm.

"Tonight is about you," He begins, quietly, "We all know what you're sacrificing to be here, especially myself and my family, and I just want to say that...well, I'm happy that you are. Here that is. I've heard nothing but wonderful things about the revered Princess Marie of France." She laughs lightly, and to her surprise, it's fairly natural.

"I've heard marvelous things about you as well, your Highness."

"Please, call me Leo. And I assure you, none of them are true." Once again, she laughs, though she still feels a pang of sickness in her belly.

"Your sense of humor is..." She struggles to find the appropriate word to use, "Relieving, to say the least."

"I'm glad."

"And please, call me Marie." He smiles, warmly again and they continue on towards the party.

+

Marie was happy to see her parents go, but as she watched the lanterns on their ship fade from view, her momentary lack of fear and uneasiness disappeared. As much as she currently disliked them for forcing her into this, they were her last ties to her life back home. After all, they were her family. The thudding sound of boot-steps disrupts her fast-panicking tears and she clearly surprises the approaching man as well. He stops dead in his tracks and eyes her, as she—slightly more discreetly—eyes him.

"Are you alright?" He asks her, hesitantly. She frantically wipes at her eyes.

"I'm fine."

"Can I help you with something?"

"No."

"May I ask...who you are and what you're doing here then?" Her defenses immediately heighten.

"I beg your pardon, but who are you?" Does he know who he's speaking to?

"You don't know who I am?" She shrugs, defiantly. He's clearly taken aback by her fiery attitude towards him. "Prince Harry...of England?" Marie feels foolish, but she doesn't entirely let her guard down. "So again, I'll ask you...who are you?"

"Princess Marie of France." She answers, confidently. "And I live here, as of today."

"Ah...so, you are my brother's betrothed."

"I am." He steps forward until he's directly in front of her, and he gently pulls her hand up to his lips, whilst his powerful green eyes stay locked on hers.

"My lady...it is my deepest pleasure." Marie tries to gulp as silently as she can.

"The pleasure is mine, your Highness."

"Harry." He says, softly. "To you...I am simply Harry." Reluctantly, he drops her hand and takes a step back. "Can I walk you to your chambers, or do you know the way?"

"I know the way." She's ashamed at the weak sound behind her words.

"Until tomorrow, Princess." He smiles, half-heartedly, at her. "Sleep well." She exhales once he's out of view and she leans against the stone wall. It's cold against the back of her bare neck, and she reckons that change in her body temperature is essential.