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Nighthawk

Volant

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a part of Nighthawk, by cl.love.

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cl.love holds sovereignty over Volant, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

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Setting

2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Callum Character Portrait: Bertrand Poirier
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#, as written by cl.love
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XX Callumxx#6C3F39
"Sir Callum of the royal guard, your Majesty, as requested."

Callum steps into the room and bows before the King. The servant girl who had fetched him bows as well, then quickly retreats, shutting the massive doors behind her. King Jannon sits upon his throne of sparkling white marble, the silver of his crown glinting in the afternoon light, shadows casting across his face from the stone pillars that hold up the golden-painted ceilings above.

"
You called for me, your Majesty?" Callum asks, standing before the steps of the dais.

"Yes," The King replies. "I have orders for you. They are of the utmost importance- the future of Pellem Vero depends on your success. If you fail, you shall disappoint me and our people."

Callum nods, feels a shiver run down his spine.

The King speaks his orders, speaks his plan, and Callum's heart hurts. It has been a long while since his heart has hurt in such a way. The King is all-powerful, the King is all Callum lives for- but there's a voice in his head, a voice that insists King Jannon cannot be of his right mind.

After all, what kind of King orders for his own daughter to be killed?


XX ❋
A breeze whistles through the trees and Callum takes a deep breath, takes a second to appreciate the sunlight streaming through the forest canopy, takes the opportunity to clear his thoughts.

Callum rides beside the intricate silver carriage that carries
Princess Deryn and her many cases of books. Four other soldiers ride in front and behind the carriage as an escort. All of them are very clearly on edge, and Callum wonders if they know the King's plan, if anyone else received orders similar to his own. There's a part of him that doesn't want to be alone in his hidden knowledge.

And as much as he loves this forest, as much as he wants to feel at ease in this place, Callum too is on edge. He carries secrets with him that will change the fate of everyone he's ever known. He knows he isn't going to the peaceful Prendre L'air as just a Knight ordered to protect the Princess.


I mustn't think of that now, Callum tells himself. Just focus on Deryn. Making her happy. Just follow her orders until the King sends for me with new ones.

And besides, Bertrand will be there.
The caravan is heading to Prendre L'air to celebrate a wedding between royals, but Callum can't help thinking about Bertrand, about their childhood- those stolen moments that are now faded in Callum's mind. He's missed Bertrand, all these years. He knows Deryn has as well. But the three of them are different now; he and Deryn surely are.

The trees ahead part to make way for a distant cityscape, and Callum clears his thoughts once more. This is not a time to be reminiscing about his time as a happy, carefree child.

After all, Deryn is the one who will be marrying Bertrand. Best to let any lingering feelings go.

Setting

2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Callum Character Portrait: Bertrand Poirier
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Bertrand The kingdom, that morning, was picturesque. Songbirds were singing their tunes, the flowers were all in bloom; everything looked perfect. They had chosen this time of year for a reason; they wanted it to be beautiful (and perhaps, romantic) for the arrival of the future princess- the future queen. And everything was perfect: from the food they'd prepared for the feast that night (no would could remember Deyrn's favorite foods, so they chose to show off the sorts of delicious foods she could eat for her hopefully long life in the kingdom. Everyone hoped desperately that she liked plums), to the decorations of the great hall, all the way down to the private chambers they had prepared for her. Everything was exactly the way that Bertrand, The Queen, and Princess Ainara had planned it. Everything, except Bertrand himself.

He'd heard the whispers; they'd been there since his adolescence, but had only grown in frequency in the months leading to the arrival of his betrothed. "Do you think he'll even be able to consummate the marriage?" "She's a pretty girl, isn't she?" "I don't think the most beautiful woman in the world would be enough to... move that boy."

They would stop talking about him as he rounded corners, and he pretended he didn't hear them, but he knew. The biggest, concern, of course, was going to be his ability to produce an heir. Beyond that, he knew, no one in the castle really cared, or even cared to know, what he did behind closed doors. But his affections were the worst kept secret in the kingdom and, while he was well-loved, there were whispers in even the smallest villages, wondering if there was a point to this marriage, if the king really hoped it would be fruitful. It seemed like a waste of time, and some mused that it may have been more worthwhile to marry the girl to Prince Corbett, and name his children as official heirs. Sometimes Bertrand tended to agree. But that wasn't the way to do things. just wasn't they way things were done.

He stared out of his window for a long time, that morning, his stomach a bundle of nerves. This wasn't the life he would have chosen for himself, and he sometimes cursed the gods for making him the firstborn son. He dreamed of the freedoms Corbett and Branson had; to live their lives with less scrutiny, occasionally running errands for the king, but overall simply there to act as a spare, in case some horrible tragedy should befall Bertrand. Perhaps he could have that arranged.

No, that was far too dramatic. He would be fine.

When he finally went to prepare himself for the arrival of the princess, it seemed as though his chambers became a flurry of activity. He was freshly bathed, and slathered with sweet-smelling perfumes. After that, he was dressed in brilliant blue, "To match your eyes. You need to look your best today." Ainara was right, of course. She never seemed to be wrong. Bertrand smiled and talked to his sister while she dressed him; the two had always been close. In fact, their closeness used to be a concern, as people viewed it as the beginnings of an unnatural relationship. In the past few years, however, it became increasingly clear that there was less than nothing to worry about when it came to the sibling's close friendship.

Ainara clicked her tongue impatiently as she fussed over Bertrand's hair, with him sitting on a stool in front her. "Are you nervous?"

Bertrand took a moment to think, carefully considering the question, "About seeing Deyrn again? No, not at all."

She let out a long-suffering sigh before speaking again, "About the marriage. You're tense."

No one knew Bertrand like his sister, that was true. He shifted in his seat, and shook his head, displacing some of the work she'd done- to her obvious annoyance. "I... I'll be fine. We're friends, it will... It will work out."

She paused and walked around to face her brother, hands on his shoulders, looking deeply into his eyes, "Bertrand," There was love in Ainara's voice, soothing, much like the way a mother speaks to her child, "You only need to produce an heir. Beyond that, I should think any woman would be glad to..." She paused, not sure how to phrase what she wanted to say.

She didn't get the chance to finish, as Bertrand interjected, "Father would disagree. He thinks three sons a much more suitable number."

A soft sort of sadness crossed the princess's face as she brushed a stray hair back into place, "I don't think anyone expects that of you, brother." It was, perhaps, a disheartening thing to say, though she meant it too be encouraging. She smiled softly as she placed a simple circlet upon his head- a silver circle with three sapphires affixed just above his brow. It had belonged to an uncle who'd died before he was born. She took a step back and smiled, "I dare say, Bertrand, you look glorious." He didn't bother to study his own appearance; he trusted his sister's judgement above all.

It wasn't long before they received the announcement that the princess was arriving, and the family began to gather outside in the courtyard. They didn't often receive guests straight from their carriage, but this was a special occasion, and they would not make a future queen of Prendre l'air come to them. Bertrand shifted from one foot to the other, shuffling nervously, which earned him a sideways glance from his father. He tried to stop, and stand still, but he found it difficult. The very idea that his entire future was to be arriving soon, it was enough to make the most stoic man nervous. The fact that he hadn't seen the princess in years, and the knowledge that he was to be the one to greet her, didn't help his nerves at all. There was a voice, in the back of his head, that wondered if Callum would be joining her. He tried to push the thought from his head; he didn't need the distraction.

He heard a soft shuffling, and felt a gentle pull at his leg. Without even looking down, he knew it was his youngest sibling clamoring to be picked up so she could see past the commotion. As he bend down to scoop her up, her soft giggles reminded him that Deryn had never met Alouette; they'd stopped visiting before she was born. He quietly spoke to and answered his sister's questions while they waited, and when the child reached up and removed Bertrand's crown, mussing up his hair in the process, Bertrand heard a quiet and frantic gasp of horror coming from his right. Ainara was not pleased. He gently chastised the girl, and as his mother took her from his arms, he did his best to place the crown neatly atop his head. Without a looking glass, though, it proved to be difficult. He turned to Corbett, to ask if it was on straight, as Ainara frantically leaned past him to try to fix it (and Bertrand's hair), which quickly erupted into a small, and slightly physical, argument; even as the carriage began to pull into the courtyard. They faintly heard Branson say, "Hey!" As if in a last-ditch effort to get his older sibling's attention, just before their father harshly, but quietly, said, "Enough! Stop it, all of you! They're here."

The three eldest shot to attention: all of them looking slightly disheveled, and frantically tried to smooth out their clothes and get their hair and accessories back into place. Bertrand took a deep breath as the carriage pulled up in front of them, and stepped forward as servants rushed to open the door. He plastered a bright, but genuine, smile on his face, extended his arms beside him, and said, "Welcome home! We're so pleased to finally have you."

Setting

2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Callum Character Portrait: Bertrand Poirier
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#, as written by cl.love
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XX Derynxx#403A60
This will be the first time Deryn has seen Bertrand in nearly five years, and she would be lying through her teeth if she said she wasn't terrified.

Not of Bertrand, of course- she loves Bertrand. She's missed him so dearly. She still remembers how giddy she felt riding in this same carriage, bouncing up an down with excitement at seeing the one person who always treated her like another kid rather than a Princess. Bertrand treated her like he treated his own sister- as a force to be respected, to be loved, to be teased relentlessly and have frogs be snuck into her pockets. Bertrand is the only one who has ever understood her.

(Well, Callum did too, once upon a time. But times have changed. He has changed, has changed so much, and Deryn firmly believes that it was not a change for the better.)

The carriage rattles as it rolls over bumps in the road, and Deryn closes the book she's been trying to distract herself with, setting it in a case with the others. Her nerves are getting the better of her, her fears bubbling to the surface as they get closer and closer to Prendre L'air. Her new home.

Deryn isn't afraid of Bertrand, never has been. But is afraid of her marriage to him.

The problem isn't Bertrand, not really. Deryn loves Bertrand. He's always been like a brother to her. And perhaps that's the problem- he's only ever been a brother. Deryn didn't understand what marriage meant as a child, and the idea of spending every day with Bertrand had never been bad. She understands marriage is now, and still, the idea of spending every day with Bertrand isn't bad. It's what being married to a King entail that makes Deryn want to fake her own death.

Consummation. Fornification. Sex. Deryn has never been so disgusted by something so common. She's read so much about sex that she knows she wants absolutely nothing to do with it.

Bertrand never showed any interest in her when they were kids beyond wanting to play together- and the "make mud pies and throw them at each other" kind of playing- and Deryn knows for a fact she's never shown interest in him. But Bertrand is grown now, and Deryn is scared she won't recognize the man he's become. She's not afraid of Bertrand, but she is afraid of marrying him.

Deryn can hear the soldiers speaking outside the carriage and she knows when they're getting close, can see through the window as the forest gives way for rolling hills and tiny houses in the distance. The carriage rolls to a stop, and Deryn just breathes. She gathers her wits about her.

As a child, or even a teenager, Deryn would throw herself from the carriage into Bertrand's arms and laughingly endure her mother's scolding. Now, her ankles wobble as she climbs to her feet.

"
Welcome home! We're so pleased to finally have you." She hears a warm, familiar voice.

And there he is, unmistakably Bertrand. He's taller, now- a man. His hair is tamed and his clothes are crisp and he stands with the authority of a future King. But that smile - that wide, dorky smile - hasn't changed one bit, and Deryn finds herself smiling back. A real smile. She takes her friend's outstretched hand and steps from the carriage, gripping him tight to still her shaking fingers.

"
It's nice to be back again."

Deryn is still scared. Scared of what her duty as Princess entails, scared of the responsibility of being a Queen, scared of sex. most of all. But she is not scared of Bertrand.

And this place, this beautiful kingdom, truly does feel like home.


XX Callumxx#6C3F39
Callum falls back as the caravan approaches the palace, riding at the back of the carriage instead of directly next to it. The palace is in full view now. As they come even closer, the royal family of Prendre L'air also comes into view- with Bertrand standing front and center.

Callum has long since come to terms with the fact that his first love will forever be far out of his reach. It no longer hurts to think of Bertrand's smiling face or remember how soft his fingers were in Callum's own. It no longer hurts. But when Callum sees Bertrand, even at a distance, he can't stop himself from staring. This is someone he's missed for five years, someone he's dreamed of in the dark of night. This is someone Callum once loved- who he, deep down, still loves dearly.

The carriage rolls to a stop before the palace and the caravan stops with it. Callum climbs down from his horse and hands the reigns off to another soldier. He doesn't move to help the Princess.

Deryn emerges from the carriage as an image of perfect beauty. She takes Bertrand's hand and climbs with graceful steps onto the stone courtyard, and Callum sees her smile for the first time in a long time. She may not talk to him anymore, but he can still tell when she's nervous or upset.

Prince Bertrand and Princess Deryn trade greetings and make their way toward the palace stairs, and Callum follows at a distance, not wanting to crowd the two. He bows in respect to the King of Prendre L'air and the other soldiers follow suit. Callum rises and steps back from the King, reaching into his rucksack to pull out a small leather pouch, which he offers to King Merle.

"
A gift from King Jannon of Pellem Vero, your Majesty. Quartz crystals from a kingdom to the south. His Majesty King Jannon hoped they would be fitting as dowry for the Princess."

Setting

2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Callum Character Portrait: Bertrand Poirier
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BertrandDeryn's smile lifted Bertrand's spirits, and eased some of his nerves, immediately. It was all he could do not to wrap her in a tight hug and lift her off her feet, he'd missed her so. It didn't feel quite appropriate, though, so he settled on giving her hand a firm squeeze before offering his arm for her to take. He noticed Callum, as well, and wondered briefly if he would say hello; but of course, it wasn't the time for that. This moment, really, was all about Deryn. "I thought," He said; voice soft, with his head tilted towards hers, as if he were sharing some great secret with her, "We could take a quick tour of the palace while they get your things put in your room." He began to lead her inside, away from talk of dowries and logistics, "I'm sure you remember it all perfectly, but it may be nice to reacquaint yourself." He smiled, almost as if to reassure her that everything was going to be okay. As they headed up the steps, he took a quick glace back, as if to see if Callum would be following them, before turning his attention back to the princess, making small talk about her journey, insuring she wasn't too tired to have a look around.

He walked her right past the great hall, "I'm not allowed to take you in there yet. You'll see at dinner. Ainara and mother worked so hard to make sure it was all perfect." He laughed quietly, then quickly added, "Mother is so pleased to have you here. She says there are too many men around, and once Ainara leaves she fears she'll go mad. I think it's dramatic, myself." He seemed to notice, then, that no member of his family or their staff had really bothered to try and come along. Whether because Deryn's own bodyguard had accompanied them, or because they felt it entirely unnecessary, he didn't know. He knew that normally no couple to-be-wed would be left without an entire entourage at their heels, so he felt as if this seemed rather suspect. He sighed, more to himself than anything, before he added, "We're all very happy to have you." A short pause, as he glanced over his shoulder, "I've missed you."

Truly, he had missed both of them. Deryn had been so much like another younger sister to him; playful, kind, and ever-willing to put him in his place. Their letters were too formal to really quiet the aching in his heart, that feeling one has when their closest friends go away. Callum had been special in an entirely different way, and no matter how he tried, Bertrand couldn't seem to replicate how he felt in their stolen moments together.

He started to lead them down a hall, towards the library, remembering Deryn's love of books, "We have," He said, as they approached the large, heavy doors, "Accumulated a few new volumes since your last visit." He unlocked the door with a key and pushed it open, before handing the key over to Deryn, "This is yours. We have to keep the doors locked to keep Alouette out. She doesn't look like much, but she gets into mischief. Remind me and I'll introduce you to her later, she's very excited to meet a 'real princess.'" He smiled, the humor of it not lost to him.

Bertrand knew Deryn would love getting to see the library again, but he'd mostly brought her in hopes that he could have a moment to speak with Callum, away from watchful eyes and itching ears, so as he beckoned Deryn inside, insisting that she take her time. He looked to Callum, though he was unsure of what to say. After a short moment he cleared his throat, and said a weak, "Hello."

Setting

2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Callum Character Portrait: Bertrand Poirier
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#, as written by cl.love
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XX Callumxx#6C3F39
King Merle accepts the gift and Callum bows once more. He offers polite greetings to the rest of the Royal Family and instructs the Pellem Vero soldiers to help unpack all of Deryn's things, then falls into step behind the Princess, trying to keep a distance from her and Bertrand. There's a part of Callum that wants to join their conversation, to reminisce with them, but he knows he can't.

It's not his place to intrude- it never was.

Bertrand and Deryn tour the castle at a leisurely pace, quietly chatting about pieces of the palace that have changed and pieces that have stayed exactly the same. Callum remembers running down these same halls, remembers coloring on the floors with chalk and taking the full blame.

When they arrive at the library, Callum's heart warms a little at the light in Deryn's face. This is a place they spent a lot of time sneaking into as children. Deryn would sit and read aloud from the catwalks or a windowsill while he and Bertrand added commentary that often made her laugh in the middle of her narration. He remembers teasing Deryn for her love of cheesy romance novels, remembers wrestling with Bertrand and knocking over stacks of books that hadn't been sorted.

The library itself is much the same as it is in Callum's memories- tall stained glass windows, tall shelves along every other inch of wall and filled to the brim with books of all sizes. The stacks of unsorted books have disappeared with time and the furniture is worn, but it feels the same.

"
This is yours. We have to keep the doors locked to keep Alouette out. She doesn't look like much, but she gets into mischief. Remind me and I'll introduce you to her later, she's very excited to meet a 'real princess.'" Bertrand says with a wide gesture toward the sunlit room.

Deryn all but squeals and skips off to a shelf, instantly absorbed, and Callum looks to Bertrand, watches him step slowly backward, catches the hint of a smirk on his face as he turns around.

Bertrand wants to talk to him, and that is a very, very bad idea. So before the Prince can say more than a quiet 'hello' Callum is taking a few steps back and bowing, refusing to look him in the eye.

"
Excuse me, your Highness, but I believe I shall give you and the Princess your space."

Callum can barely stand the look on Bertrand's face, the confusion ridden in his features, and he turns on his heel to walk back out of the library, gently pulling the doors closed behind him. He doesn't leave, because it's his job to protect the Princess. But being in that room... all it does is remind him of what he used to have, what he can't have now. Those two are out of his reach.


XX Derynxx#403A60
Deryn may be more in love with books than she could ever be with a human, but she doesn't miss how Bertrand speaks to Callum, with that soft fondness in his voice that she's only heard come from people who claimed to be in love. She doesn't miss how Callum deftly avoids conversation, doesn't miss the confusion and pain and frustration that clash in Bertrand's expression.

Deryn closes the book she's only just opened with a loud snap, grabbing Bertrand's attention, and she smiles as reassuringly as she knows how. "
He's been like that ever since mother died."

"
I think my father saw how upset Callum was when mother died and saw it as a weakness. I barely saw Callum in those first few months after the funeral, he was so busy training. I think father told him to stay away from me. He hasn't talked to me like a normal person in years, he just avoids the conversation and tells me I shouldn't talk about such things with a servant. But then, who am I supposed to talk to? The only people I know are servants!"

"
It felt like he'd abandoned me," Deryn says, and she scolds herself as tears begin to fall. "I've been so alone, Bertrand, and I'm happy to be here, I really am. But I'm scared."

"
I don't love you the way I'm supposed to, and I know you don't love me either. The way you spoke to Callum- you love him, don't you? I bet you always have. And I've never loved anyone. I don't even think I could. How are we supposed to marry? To have children?"

Deryn allows herself to cry, to release her fears, because now she's certain Bertrand doesn't love her, either. She's spent yeas upon years reading stories of people falling in love and being in love and she knows what she and Bertrand have isn't love- not that kind of love. It's comforting to know that she isn't alone in that feeling. But what on Earth are they supposed to do about it?

Setting

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Character Portrait: Callum Character Portrait: Bertrand Poirier
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BertrandBertrand had known to expect Callum to be different, at least slightly. They'd both gone from being no more than boys, now to men. But he didn't expect to be shut out that way. He could have understood if Callum wanted some distance, or just to be friends, now that Bertrand was actually to be wed, but to have Callum all but ignore him that way, closing the doors in his face. Once the confusion passed, he was mostly angry, and humiliated. He was hurt, too, but his hurt just gave way to an almost childish anger, as if he couldn't believe Callum would dare shut him out. How dare he deny him even a simple greeting.

He had half a mind to throw open the doors and force Callum to face him when he heard Deryn behind him. He turned to her, a little surprised, as he'd almost forgotten she was there. As she spoke, it occurred to him how lonely she must have been all those years. He'd never imagined her being all alone after her mother died, and suddenly he felt an overwhelming stab of guilt, as if he'd been the one to blame.

When she started to cry, Bertrand quickly walked to her side. He rested a hand on her shoulder, but all he could say was, "I'm so sorry." As if he'd ever had the power to change her circumstances. As if he should have known.

He sighed deeply, "I was going to tell you." He didn't mean about Callum, and his feelings for him, specifically; but in a more general sense. He had felt it important to tell her what to expect, or not expect, from him. She would have heard it soon enough. If not through gossip, than Bertrand's own siblings were likely to tell her everything. But now, he didn't know what to say. He felt a bit of shame, as if he shouldn't have kept the secret from Deryn in the first place, so he changed the subject, if only slightly, "I'm scared, too. I don't think I could-" He paused, not wanting to hurt her feelings, "I mean, not that you're not... You're beautiful, but-" He sighed, "I'm sorry." He reached over and took the book from her hand, setting it aside with no regard for proper shelving or organization. Bertrand took both of her arms in his, and said, "I don't know what the future may hold, but you never have to be alone again. I'll always be your friend."

He then felt slightly overwhelmed by it all, and though he tried to fight it, felt a few tears flow down his faced; there was a part of him that had wanted everything to be the same as it had always been. Of course things had changed, but he hadn't expected everything to have changed. He wiped his face quickly, roughly. His father had told him before that if the king must cry, it needed to be in private. It struck him, then, that crying in front of his future wife- as unfair as the union may seem- was as private of a moment as he could have outside of solitude.

"They don't expect me to be able to father any children," The words seemed to fall out of his mouth before he'd really thought them through, "Father hasn't said as much, but I know. He..." Bertrand sighed, "They would never blame you, you know."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Callum Character Portrait: Bertrand Poirier
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#, as written by cl.love
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XX Derynxx#403A60
Hearing Bertrand apologize to her, as if it were somehow his fault that she was alone for so long - ridiculous, the only person at fault there is Callum, much as she cares for him - has Deryn's heart sinking just a bit. But then he's speaking, stuttering, searching desperately for words that come out a jumbled mess. Bertrand cries, and another of Deryn's fears is whisked away:

The fear that he would no longer be the same Bertrand she once knew. They may be adults, now, but he is still the same awkward, empathetic boy she adored.

"
You have nothing to apologize for." she says, gripping his hands tight.

"
They don't expect me to be able to father any children," Bertrand tells her, "Father hasn't said as much, but I know. He... they would never blame you, you know."

Deryn has some trouble trying to imagine a King who didn't expect an Heir from his eldest son, but then, King Merle has always seemed a more involved man than her own father. At least, King Merle celebrated the days his children were born, and always seemed happy to spend time with them. Deryn can remember plenty of times as a child when the King would sneak away from duties to join one of their less tiring games. She can't even imagine her father doing the same.

The statement, coming from Bertrand, does lift a bit of the weight on Deryn's shoulders. She's not sure if she believes it- she's too pessimistic, too paranoid. But it's a start.

Right now, a start is really all they need, isn't it?

"
Thank you, Bertrand. Truly."

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BertrandAfter their conversation, Bertrand had walked Deryn to her quarters. The space had once been set aside for her and her mother to share, and in many ways it was very much the same as it had been in those days. It had been updated a little (new mattress, the bedding had become mothworn and was subsequently replaced), but the furniture-and the memories-remained largely the same. Bertrand and Ainara had felt that having a familiar space to call her own may make Deryn feel more comfortable and at home.

The following days were busy: filled with policy and process, wedding planning, and trying to rekindle old friendships. Bertrand was glad that he did at least get to be married to an old friend, even if the arrangement wasn’t ideal. Every smile from Deryn’s face brought a smile to his own, and he was glad to know that even if she wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of marrying him (and for that, he could not blame her), she was at least not alone. He continued to try, and fail, to get Callum to speak with him. He didn’t need much, he just wanted to be acknowledged. That wasn’t fully true, though. He wanted to be loved again, to be looked at the way he remembered Callum looking at him, years ago. He felt heartbroken and foolish, cursed himself for thinking that anything could ever be the way it was before. He tried to focus on Deyrn, on at least being her friend if he couldn’t be a proper husband, but being ignored was more difficult for him than he cared to admit.

Bertrand had skipped court that day. His attendance there, while recommended at this stage in his life, was mostly for learning purposes, and not mandatory. They hardly did much with his suggestions, and on days when they were focused on balancing the budget Bertrand often felt he would rather die than listen to Count Chavabannes drone on about ledgers and balances. He knew it was important, but it seemed a world away from the things he was concerned about. So he elected to rescue Deryn from the clutches of his mother and sisters. His mother and Ainara were so engrossed in finishing the details of the wedding, and Alouette was heavily invested in trying to see what color ribbon looked most beautiful in Deyrn’s dark hair. He gently knocked on the door, even though it was propped open, before entering the room when the women were congregated, “Excuse me ladies, Your Majesty,” His mother rolled her eyes, but he continued on, “I know I am interrupting, but I was hoping to take my betrothed for a stroll in the garden.” He knew his mother and sisters could be overwhelming at times, and thought Deryn could use a break from them. He directed a mischievous smile to Deryn and added, “That is, if it pleases her.”

Alouette sighed, “Betrand, we’re trying to plan the-”

His mother interrupted, harshly whispering something to Alouette that Bertrand couldn’t hear, but he assumed it was something about how he was trying to foster a relationship. She smiled at Deryn, “The gardens are beautiful this time of year, I believe the trees are blooming. Enjoy it.”

Bertrand offered an arm to Deryn, and as they walked away, he couldn’t help but laugh, “They are really trying to make everything perfect, aren’t they?”

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XX Derynxx#403A60
Deryn allows herself to be comforted by Bertrand, and once they've both calmed enough to walk throughout the castle without looking miserable, she hooks her arm through his with a smile.

Callum is waiting outside the library door, standing perfectly straight. He doesn't look directly at her, doesn't look at Bertrand at all, and she has to hold in tears yet again because it hurts her heart. She catches Bertrand casting quick glances in Callum's direction as they walk through long castle halls, and Deryn can see that his heart is hurting too.
What has happened to us, mother?

Bertrand takes her to the same room she and her mother had once shared during their visits, and Deryn feels her breath stop. It feels so long ago, the memories of this room faded by time. But the room is the same, down to the pattern on the bedspread, though it looks much brighter- newer.

Bertrand takes his leave with a tired smile. Callum tells her where his room is and how to get there, then takes his leave with a bow. Deryn watches them go. They stand tall, so strong, and she wishes they didn't have to be strong, wishes they were born into a different life.

But, as much as she wishes it, there's nothing she can do to change their circumstances.



XX ❋
Days pass, and Deryn spends them either surrounded by Bertrand's sisters discussing wedding plans, or escaping the lovely group of women to spend time with Bertrand himself.

The more time she spends with him, the more Deryn comes to see that while Bertrand is the same in many ways, he's still grown, just as she is. When they're together, hiding from responsibility, that sweet, playful boy she remembers is clear as day in his laughter and crooked smiles and a few highly inappropriate conversations she thinks his mother would clobber him for.

But in the presence of the King, sat around a meeting table discussing the kingdom's affairs, she sees another side of him. She sees the King he is destined to become, the wise, honest man he's already learning to be. She sees him as a leader- a man with an entire world upon his shoulders.

It scares her a little, the knowledge that change is already happening, but more than anything, she feels proud. Deryn knows more than anyone how hard it can be to bear such a heavy burden.

While Bertrand is busy, Deryn finds herself sucked into the world of his sisters- the only other Princesses she's ever met. Ainara is quick to establish a friendship and the only phrase Deryn has for little Alouette is that she's fallen in love; quite the ironic twist of events. It's like having siblings again, a feeling she hasn't known since Callum was ordered to stay at a distance.

Even Queen Mavis gravitates toward Deryn, and the first time the woman offers to brush her hair for her, Deryn cries, because for the first time since her mother died, she feels truly embraced.

Deryn sits on a cushioned footstool next to Ainara, bent over a table covered in a variety of white fabrics. She's supposed to be finding the one she likes best, but Alouette keeps pulling her hair as she ties colored ribbons into it, ruining her concentration and helpfully keeping thoughts of her impending marriage at bay. Queen Mavis sits on another couch looking over lace patterns.

There are several women-in-waiting scattered about the room fixing tea or dusting or just watching, clearly invested in Deryn's choices, and they all look up when a soft knock at the door sounds throughout the room. Bertrand peeks in, and Deryn gets the feeling she's being rescued.

"
Excuse me ladies, Your Majesty. I know I am interrupting, but I was hoping to take my betrothed for a stroll in the garden." Deryn quirks and eyebrow. "That is, if it pleases her."

Yes, definitely a rescue. Deryn forces down a laugh.

Alouette and Ainara are both quick to object, but Queen Mavis is just as quick to quiet them, and Deryn hopes the look of gratitude on her face is enough to show her thanks. The Queen suggests a walk through the gardens and Deryn smiles wider, because that is exactly where she likes to be, and she bows to the gathering as gracefully as she can before hurrying to Bertrand's side.

Callum has made the decision that Deryn is perfectly protected alone with Bertrand, so there's no around to hear when they both break out into graceless laughter, the sound bouncing off the walls. Deryn runs a hand over her now-tangled hair and giggles, all thoughts of marriage drifting away.

"
They are really trying to make everything perfect, aren’t they?" Bertrand sighs.

"
Yes, but you can't blame them," Deryn says, straightening one of Alouette's bows. "It's the one and only marriage of the heir to their kingdom. Of course they'd want it to be perfect."

They make their way out into the garden and Deryn lets go of Bertrand to get a closer look at the blooming pink and white trees lining the path. "
I think a part of them wants to show of a little, too. Prove to me that the beauty and splendor of their kingdom wasn't just nostalgia."

Deryn pauses, takes a deep breath. "
There's a part of me that feels like their kindness is all for nothing. A part of me that knows I might never belong here, try and try as I might. I'm not here because I love you, and I think they know that, but how could I ever hope to be a part of this place when the reason I'm here is a lie?" Deryn spills her heart to Bertrand yet again.

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Bertrand raised an eyebrow as Deryn spoke, straightening one of the bows in her hair. It seemed that Alouette had decided that green was the best color for Deryn’s hair. He wondered if she would agree. He was glad she was getting on well with his sisters. That would, perhaps, make it easier for her in the years to come as she adjusted to her new life. Both of his sisters would leave, eventually, and he knew that, but for the time, he was glad that Deryn had them. They, especially his mother (he guessed), would understand some of her feelings better than Bertrand could.

He had to admit, her logic surrounding the wedding made sense. It was a show. It was also, he thought, a way for his mother to get the wedding ceremony her marriage had lacked. His parent’s own marriage had been tossed together quickly and carelessly, and they’d all but been instructed to have an heir immediately. As the eldest son of the youngest prince-turned king, Bertrand had to admit that they all still felt the ramifications of that sometimes. He didn’t voice that opinion, though. His family’s history was well known, it was unlikely that Deryn needed reminding. He stood back as she went to look closer at the trees. He’d seen their blooms countless times, and while he still found them beautiful, he wasn’t as impressed by them as he once was.

“There's a part of me that feels like their kindness is all for nothing. A part of me that knows I might never belong here, try and try as I might. I'm not here because I love you, and I think they know that, but how could I ever hope to be a part of this place when the reason I'm here is a lie?”

Deryn’s words all but broke his heart.

Sometimes he wished he could love her, or that she could have the benefit of marrying someone who could. She was beautiful and kind, and deserved more than the lonely life she was going to get. He looked at her for a moment, carefully considering his words before he spoke them. He wanted to assure her that the way she felt wasn’t, somehow, a moral failing or something, but he also didn’t want to say something that may hurt her feelings or somehow increase her worries. A part of him wished Callum was there, acting as some sort of shadow, but in the time since they’d arrived, Callum had seemingly decided that Bertrand was no threat to Deryn’s person or virtue (which, while true, did sting slightly), and thus they were alone.

He quickly stepped to fill the space by her side, resting a comforting hand on her arm, “Deryn, princes don’t marry for love,” He paused, only a second, instantly wishing he’d tried a different comforting tactic, “I’m fortunate to be marrying such a good friend. Ainara hasn’t even met the man she’s been promised to, yet.” He let out a sigh, folding his hands together behind his back, “I don’t think I could understand what you’re feeling, though. I do, however, promise you that this has always-and will always-been a place that welcomes you.” He tilted his head to the side, like a dog trying to understand what it had been told, “Despite all the love you don’t feel for me, your role here is quite solidified.” He was speaking very practically, then. He sounded-to himself-like his father. So matter-of-fact, as if he were commenting on the weather. He smiled, adding, “Besides, Alouette would go back to torturing me in your absence, and I can’t have that. The ribbons look much better on you, anyway.”

The hope, of course, was to lighten the mood. Still, Bertand also wanted to help quell Deryn’s fears, “Can I help you feel like you belong? If there is anything I can do, don’t hesitate to tell me.” He knew that it was very likely that a part of her would never fully feel like she belonged, but there was no reason to let her go on feeling like her entire life was a lie.

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XX Derynxx#403A60

"Deryn, princes don’t marry for love."

Bertrand's words catch Deryn off guard, and she turns to face him as he steps up to her side. She shouldn't be surprised, in retrospect- after all, her own parents never seemed to love each other.

The realization that Ainara hasn't even met her husband-to-be also catches her off guard, but it's a less surprising act, though it makes Deryn's heart sink a bit. If she hasn't met him by now, then it's likely she won't meet the man until her wedding day. Deryn feels uncomfortable by association.

She understands when Bertrand says he's fortunate in marrying someone he knows- after all, isn't she fortunate, to marry a man who doesn't mind her lovelessness? Who appreciates it?

Yes, they are fortunate, but it's a bittersweet fortune. Still, she must be grateful for this fate.

Bertrand continues to speak, and his words touch Deryn's heart for a second time. Prendre l'air welcomes her. She has a place in their kingdom. His comment that Alouette might torture him if she left has Deryn giggling, and she threads her fingers through her hair, fingertips settling on the ribbons with a light touch. As crooked as they must be, she doesn't want to disturb them.

"
Can I help you feel like you belong? If there is anything I can do, don’t hesitate to tell me."

Deryn catches a falling bud in her hands and smiles. "
Your highness," She says, tone painfully formal, "Your kind words are more than enough comfort for a princess like me."

And with that, Deryn allows herself to truly laugh, chortling and snorting rather indelicately.

"
Honestly, it does help. I appreciate that you treat my like a friend. Your mother and sisters treat me like I'm already theirs, and it does a lot to calm me. I think I haven't felt kindness like this in a long time- since my mother passed. Kindness without strings attached."

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At Deryn’s formal words, Bertrand simply quirked an eyebrow. Being addressed so formally, especially by people who knew you well, had always felt a bit embarrassing, and Deryn knew that. But then she laughed, and Bertrand supposed he didn’t mind. Though he did roll his eyes to express some form of dissatisfaction with the joke, the smile on his face was a decent indicator that he wasn’t really bothered. He had four younger siblings, he’d heard it all.

Her next words brought a different sort of smile to his face; genuine, though perhaps a little sad. In the past few years that he’d been really learning how to rule, it had been an expression that had become too familiar, too natural on his face. “My mother cares deeply for you. I think she always has.” He couldn’t speak for his sisters, but he thought that both of them liked having another woman around.

He rested a gentle hand on her shoulder, “I’ve always considered you one of my closest friends,” He shrugged, “Though you could never compare to Corbett.” His tone was dry, it was no secret that Bertrand and Corbett agreed on very little. “All the same, Your Highness, I hope you always consider me your friend, above all else.” He didn’t say how he hoped she considered him a friend, and never a husband, even beyond their marriage, though that sort of thing could have easily been inferred from his statement, if one knew the things that Deryn knew.

There was a question, just nagging at the back of Bertrand’s mind. He didn’t suppose it was very helpful to ask, especially considering that he was sure he knew the answer, but the fact that Callum wouldn’t speak to him still stung, hurt his pride, and the way Deryn spoke about being shown true kindness for the first time since her mother died just reminded him yet again, “Is Callum still not speaking with you?” It was a stupid question, and Bertrand needed to stop caring, frankly. Asking wasn’t likely to help Deryn’s mood, either, so he quickly apologized, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” A sigh, “It isn’t any of my business.”

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XX Derynxx#403A60

Bertrand's smile is bright, and real, and Deryn feels her heart melt a little at it. They may never be the kind of husband and wife a kingdom wants, but that smile will always lift Deryn's spirits.

"
My mother cares deeply for you. I think she always has." Bertrand tells her.

Deryn can't help the the way his words churn her stomach. They're good words, kind words- they are words she's wanted to hear since she arrived, because she wants the Queen to care for her. She wants to be a daughter again- a Queen's daughter, not just the child her father promised away.

But the words still churn her stomach, because she loves Queen Mavis, and somehow it feels as if loving Queen Mavis is an insult to her own mother, whose love and memory has faded in time.


But love doesn't run out, does it, in all those stories? Love is endless. There is always enough.

"I’ve always considered you one of my closest friends," Bertrand's words distract her, helpfully. "Though you could never compare to Corbett." ... and there's the needed levity.

Deryn doesn't stop herself from chortling, because she's witnessed many an argument between the two princes, often over trivial things, important in the moment but hilarious in retrospect.

"
All the same, Your Highness, I hope you always consider me your friend, above all else."

And without hesitation, "
Of course I do, Bertrand." She says- and it's true. "You have always been, and will always be, my dearest friend. From the day we met, until the day we die."

It's strangely intimate- those words, together. But Deryn refuses to feel ashamed. They will never have the intimacy desired of them, but this- this quiet, comfortable closeness...

... is this not simply another kind of love?

A silence grows between them, and Deryn ventures further into the garden, trusting Bertrand to follow. When she glances back at him, there's something distant in his eyes. Something weighing on his mind. Deryn doesn't ask what it is. If he wants to tell her, she trusts that he will.

She's just reached out to cradle glowing blue blossoms in her hand when Bertrand speaks,

"
Is Callum still not speaking with you?"

Ah, so that's what it is. I suppose I should have known.

She should have known it would be Callum weighing on Bertrand's mind; it's been Callum since they arrived here. It's been Callum since they were children. And Deryn understands.

The moment the question leaves Bertrand's mind, he starts frantically backpedaling, because it's a sensitive subject for both of them and Deryn suspects he's wary of hurting her any further. Deryn also suspects that a part of Bertrand, a deep part of him, doesn't want to hear her answer.

But the question doesn't hurt Deryn. After all, it's harder to hurt at Callum's absence when the hole he's left behind has been so utterly filled by Bertrand's sweet, loving, adoring sisters.

"
No, it's alright. I'm alright." She tells him. "And yes. I've seen very little of him."

The silence is palpable in the air between them, and Deryn wonders which is better- for Bertrand to move on from Callum and find someone who can love him without question, or for Bertrand to find Callum and force him to talk so they can be the friends Deryn remembers loving so dearly.

She knows the answer she favors, but a part of her isn't sure if she should tell.

"
I don't think Callum is ever going to come to us."

As if it were even a question- Deryn could never keep anything from Bertrand.

"
I think he's scared, or beholden to my father. Possibly both." A pause, to think. "Certainly both." Deryn turns to look Bertrand in the eye. "What I mean to say is, I think if you wish to know Callum as he is now, you must go to him. He's never going to come to you."

And I'm not sure you should desire someone who refuses to meet you halfway.

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Bertrand did follow Deryn through the gardens. Seeing her here made him appreciate the beauty of the trees and flowers. He supposed he’d grown used to them, in all his years. If they hadn’t started speaking of Callum, Bertrand might have pointed out that those glowing blue flowers were his mother’s favorite, that they stopped glowing when you picked them, but if you knew some magic you could restore the gentle glow, but they were never quite as beautiful as before.

Maybe it was a little poetic. Whatever relationship they’d had with Callum might never be the same. Bertrand had expected things to change- how could they not? He had never expected this silence. In their childhood, Deryn and Callum had been almost like siblings, and he and Callum


“I've seen very little of him."

Honestly, Bertrand had been hoping that maybe being here, away from Deryn’s father, would help Callum open up, and at least speak with Deryn. There was a part of Bertrand that felt angry about it all. Callum had left Deryn alone in her grief for all those years, and though Bertrand knew that it wasn’t truly Callum’s fault, everyone that had made that her reality seemed cold and cruel to him.

And yet, when Bertrand thought of Callum, he still remembered the fourteen-year-old boy he’d shared so much of his soul with, once. They’d all changed, and Bertrand had to accept that he’d been the one to change the least.

"I don't think Callum is ever going to come to us."

Bertrand knew that, really, but hearing it didn’t sting any less. Bertrand almost wanted to ask what Callum even had to be afraid of, when Deryn mentioned the possibility, but he quickly remembered that he and Callum weren’t the same. He’d often had to be reminded, when they were children, that they weren’t both afforded the same luxuries.

Brows knit together in frustration, Bertrand heaved a heavy sigh, “He should at least speak to you,” He shook his head, “It’s- I-” He closed his eyes, trying (and failing) not to look like a spoiled child who’d been denied dessert.

Calm your temper. Deryn’s done nothing to you. There’s no use getting worked up.

Bertrand never paid much mind to how much that rational voice in his mind sounded like his father, and not at all like himself.

“I don’t even care if he no longer wants anything to do with me,” Bertrand wasn’t sure if that were true, but still he added, “I just wish he’d tell me.”

It wasn’t even as if Bertrand had spent the last five years chastely laying around the castle, waiting for Callum to return. He just supposed he’d always imagined that they would pick right back up where they left off. But maybe it truly was nothing more than a game from their youth. He was probably foolish for ever considering it.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t go and speak with Callum; he was beginning to form some choice words in his mind.

“I’m being foolish, aren’t I?”[/b] Bertrand had already seen how people treated him: even now, most seemed to just agree with his ideas, some treated him as if he were fragile. As if offending or disagreeing with him were fatal. “I miss him, and I wish he had the decency to break my heart properly.” He smiled, as if to indicate he were only joking.

He walked a short way away, and bent over to pluck a small purple flower from its place. They were exceedingly common, but that had never made anything less beautiful. “We don’t have to discuss him any longer,” He turned and handed the flower to Deryn- something of an apology for bringing up an uncomfortable subject. “Thank you, Deryn. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

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XX Deryn xx#403A60xx#403A60

"He should at least speak to you. It's- I-"

Bertrand pauses, closes his eyes, and sucks in a breath. Deryn can see the crease in his brow. He's frustrated, and she doesn't blame him. She's frustrated, too, but resigned to Callum's absence.

After all, she's had several more years to get used to Callum's cold shoulder than Bertrand has.


Bertrand has always been a peacekeeper. I wonder what it would take for him to snap.

"I don’t even care if he no longer wants anything to do with me," Bertrand says, and Deryn understands the sentiment, even if she doesn't believe he feels so. "I just wish he’d tell me."

"
I understand." Deryn says, because she does.

She watches Bertrand, as she has always watched him, as she has always watched Callum, even when the latter refused to meet her gaze. She can see flickers of hope and hurt hiding in his eyes, can see the tightness in his jaw, can feel tension in the air. She lays a hand on his shoulder.

"
I'm being foolish, aren't I?"

"
Not at all."

"
I miss him, and I wish he had the decency to break my heart properly."

Deryn supposes she shouldn't be surprised by these words. And she isn't, really. But to hear it said aloud that Bertrand has given his heart to Callum, is something of a treasure in her eyes. To admit to what, in their world, is almost unheard of, shows courage, even if he's only admitting it to her.

Bertrand steps away, and Deryn's gaze follows him as he does. He looks stunning in the light. She doubts any other woman could resist him, but then, no other woman knows him like she does.

Except his mother and sister, of course, but anyone could have guessed so.

"
We don’t have to discuss him any longer," Bertrand says as he returns to her side. He presents her with a delicate flower and Deryn takes it in her hands, seeing through the common gesture to the apology and gratitude beneath. "Thank you, Deryn. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had."

Deryn smiles knowingly. She carefully tucks the blossom behind her ear and politely curtsies.

"
It is an honor to be such, your highness."

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Bertrand turned up his nose at Deryn’s formality, but he couldn’t help but smile. Deryn made the flowers look lovelier in their proximity to her. He always loved her, in a way, and he always would- even if his love for her more closely resembled his love for his sisters than the way a man should love his wife. He didn’t speak of it, but it did concern him still. Deryn had said she didn’t mind, and she seemed to understand, but Bertrand did have to wonder if her understanding would last. He tried not to think about it, but he knew the way people gossiped. He hoped it wouldn’t get to her.

“So,” Bertrand started, trying to sound completely interested, “How many types of lace are under consideration for the wedding?” He was interested in the planning, of course. This event was going to shape the rest of his life, after all.

Now that he’d brought up the wedding, though, “I’m not supposed to tell you, but,” He leaned in close to Deryn, as if he were sharing the world’s most precious secret, “The king has arranged the arrival of some new books for you, as a wedding gift. I know there’s still plenty in the library you haven’t read, but he got his hands on some new serials from Edra and I think he desperately wants to gain your favor.” Bertrand shrugged, “I don’t know why he told me- should have known I’d tell you the first chance I got..”

There was, of course, the possibility that Bertrand's father had wanted him to tell Deryn ahead of time, so as to give the young woman something new to look forward to.

Bertrand had all but forgotten how lovely the gardens could be: it was almost sad, how easily a person could take something for granted. As he and Deryn walked, he was struck by how nice it was just to spend some time with a good friend. It was nice to be able to talk about whatever had been weighing on their minds, discuss whatever inconsequential things they’d thought up, or just walk together in a comfortable silence. They were both so constantly surrounded by other people, so to just be in Deryn’s company was refreshing, almost healing to the soul.

As they made their way back towards the palace, the unmistakable scent of dessert filled the air. Pears, cinnamon, and sugar. The kitchens were preparing dinner.

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XX Deryn xx#403A60

"So, how many types of lace are under consideration for the wedding?"

"
Far too many," Deryn replies, taking the bait for a distraction from their previous conversation. "I had never considered the importance of lace patterns before. It's quite fascinating."

They go on like that for a bit- from lace to beading to the length of the dress and the height of her shoes and if the dress should be white or in the deep violet of her kingdom - and Deryn feels the smallest hint of anticipation settle beside the anxiety in her chest. She almost feels excited.

She quietly wonders how long that excitement will last.

Scaring her errant thoughts away for the moment, Bertrand leans close to whisper in her ear, as if they were children again, keeping harmless secrets from the stifling adults surrounding them.

"
I’m not supposed to tell you, but the king has arranged the arrival of some new books for you, as a wedding gift." He says, piquing Deryn's curiosity. She'd nearly forgotten the tradition of wedding gifts. "I know there’s still plenty in the library you haven’t read, but he got his hands on some new serials from Edra and I think he desperately wants to gain your favor."

Deryn tries to picture King Merle trying to impress her, and it makes her stomach twist strangely.

"
I don’t know why he told me- should have known I’d tell you the first chance I got..."

"
Well, you are rather predictable. I'm sure His Majesty would not have told you if he truly meant to keep it from me. He is your father, after all. He knows you better than I do."

Deryn and Bertrand share a laugh at that, then continue their stroll throughout the gardens, small talk trickling into quiet commentary on the beauty of it all. They walk close together, tripping on each other's feet and giggling like children over nothing, and Deryn can't help but think:


I can get used to this. I will get used to this.

Anxiety still curls in her gut - a snake, hibernating, waiting to strike - but right now, Deryn feels content, as if their marriage might not be the disaster she imagines it to be in the dead of night.

Only time, perhaps, can tell.


XX ❋
Dinners with the Poirier royal family is far more lovely than Deryn had ever expected.

Back home, she often ate her meals in her library or the half-barren gardens, with only the stone-faced Callum or her wait-staff for company. When she did take meals with her father, they were cold, quiet hours, tension hanging heavy in the air and no warm conversation to be heard.

The first meal she'd eaten with Bertrand's siblings had been a bit... overwhelming, to say the least.

Of course, the members of the royal family did their best to keep a regal air about themselves, but as in many situations throughout the day, during meals they often failed spectacularly.

Ainara and Bertrand would argue through strangely polite methods over absolutely trivial things, smiling tersely all the while. Branson would talk animatedly about anything he could get Deryn to appreciate - which was everything - and sweet, dear Alouette, still only a child, would do her very best to be acknowledged, sometimes leading to bits of food strewn about the table.

Prince Corbett was the only royal child who ever managed to retain his dignity, and watching him try to convince his siblings to do the same was always a source of entertainment for Deryn.

It was a wonderful experience, in Deryn's eyes, and though in the beginning the King and Queen chastised their children for being improper at the table, as time passed, the pretense of perfection began to fall. Deryn even caught them smiling at their children's antics on many an occasion.

It was wonderful, and eye-opening, and Deryn wouldn't give it up for the world.

Setting

2 Characters Present

Character Portrait: Callum Character Portrait: Bertrand Poirier
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#, as written by cl.love
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XX Callum xx#6C3F39

In the three weeks since Callum had arrived in Prendre l'air, both Bertrand and Deryn have made attempts at conversation with Callum, all of them to no avail, while Callum tries not feel guilty.

He has failed miserably. But there's nothing that can be done.

"
Sir Callum."

Fuck.

Callum stands straight as Deryn turns to face him. Her expression is a perfect mask of power and stature- the mask of a royal princess who understands exactly how much weight her words carry.

Callum has never seen Deryn look like this, and in this particular moment, it terrifies him.

"
Princess," He says, forcing his voice level. "How may I be of your assistance?"

Deryn's stare grows cold.

"
You may sit down and listen while I discuss your avoidance of Prince Bertrand."

Fuck.

This is the last thing Callum wants to be confronted on, because there's nothing he can do. There's nothing acceptable he can say or do or be aside from what he has already been: a perfect servant.

He doesn't eavesdrop, doesn't interject. He follows every order. He keeps a proper distance.

He can't get involved.

"
That is an order, Sir Callum."

Fuck.

But he also can't refuse.

Callum follows Deryn into the sitting room attached to her private chambers. She sits primly on a cushioned couch while her handmaid hurries off to prepare tea. Callum politely remains standing, hands clasped behind his back, a few feet before her. Deryn stares up at him, strangely hardened.

"
Prince Bertrand and I will be married by the end of the year. I wish for you to explain to him your honest feelings before that time." She states. "He deserves that much."

"
I can't do that."

Deryn's blue, blue eyes stare deep into Callum. He forces himself to hold her gaze, unflinching.

"
You must understand why."

She has to understand why.

The handmaid returns, and Deryn dismisses Callum, though her gaze never lowers, never lessens. He feels her eyes on him until the door shuts between them, and even then, they stick in his mind.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Callum Character Portrait: Bertrand Poirier
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XX Deryn xx#403A60

In Vincere, the concept of wedding gifts hadn't existed until presented by other kingdoms. Deryn very much approved of it, though she knew her father would not find it necessary. Bertrand would not be getting a gift from her kingdom the way she would be getting a gift from his.

Which was absolutely ridiculous, and Deryn refused to let that fall true.

Unfortunately, she didn't have much to offer her husband-to-be or his prospering kingdom.

Vincere was a poor kingdom, just barely surviving in its barren, isolated landscape. There was a reason Deryn had been promised to the prince of a wealthier kingdom before she could speak.

So what could she possibly have to offer the kingdom that would soon become her home?

Nothing, really.

But there was something she could offer Bertrand: a resolution.

After a disastrous, mostly one-sided conversation with Callum, it became clear that neither he nor Bertrand were willing to make the first move - or any move - in fixing their broken relationship. Thus, it fell to Deryn to concoct a plan that would force their feelings out into the open.

Whether they wish it or not.

Deryn invited Bertrand to tea in a beautiful forest grove she'd noticed on their way into the royal city. Callum, as captain of her guard, was expected to accompany them. They went by carriage- Deryn and Bertrand inside with her handmaid, Callum outside with the footman. All was calm.

And as soon as the boys were off the carriage, she left them there with the tea and cakes, waving as the carriage sped away from two wonderfully shocked faces. Deryn was absolutely gleeful.

"
Your highness, are you sure about this?" The footman asked as the carriage finally slowed.

Deryn's smile only widened. "
Trust me. This will be very good for them."

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Character Portrait: Callum Character Portrait: Bertrand Poirier
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xBertrandxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx#6b4685
It was as good a day as any for an outing. Bertrand was no stranger to having tea outdoors, although in his experience that usually meant the back gardens. But he graciously accepted Deryn’s invitation. It was good for them to spend time together, it helped form that easy kind of intimacy that comes with close relationships, and with a wedding looming ever closer (oh, a part of Bertrand was absolutely dreading it) it couldn’t hurt.

Typically, they would have had a more suitable chaperone. While they were hardly alone with a footman, Deryn’s handmaid, and a guard present- there was always the potential for gossip, rumor, and scandal in these situations. Bertrand was certain that his father would be thrilled to hear rumors that his son had been seen alone with a woman, though he wondered what King Jannon would have to say about any sort of stain on his daughter’s honor. He wondered if the alliance they were forming was worth the rumors and reputation she would likely have to endure being wedded to him.

He supposed that, ultimately, the king wasn’t the one who would have to live with that.

It really was a beautiful day, and the grove was lovely. Perhaps some time out of the castle walls and away from talk of honor and duty would do him some good.

With so few people accompanying them, Bertrand- ever the gentleman- turned with the intention of helping Deryn from the carriage, only to see her smiling face waving joyfully as the carriage retreated into the distance.

He was stunned, and for a long moment didn’t react at all, save the dumbfounded look on his face.

“Did-” He started, slowly, as if testing the way his voice sounded in the open air, “Did she?” Bertrand had, perhaps, never felt more betrayed in his life. “Shit!”

He turned, looking all around, as if hoping to find something- anything- that looked like a solution to his current predicament. His eyes settled on Callum, formed into something of a glare, as if the man were to blame for this.

Arms crossed, and with a countenance much more befitting a spoiled toddler than a crown prince, he said, “I suppose you knew nothing of this.” His words weren’t as accusatory as the expression on his face, but his tone held all the qualities of someone who’d already found you guilty.

And yet, he knew that this was likely the only chance they’d have to truly be alone. He wasn’t sure how he was meant to feel about that, but his face and posture quickly softened. One can only remain angry at someone for something they didn’t do for so long.