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sports-on-sundays · 8 months

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prince not so charming / CL16 / PART 2

Warnings : Switch between second and third person

Summary : Prince!Charles x Princess!Reader - The prince chooses who he wants to marry and grows closer to the one he wants.

Author's Note : Link to Part 1. There will be a Part 3.

Requested? : No.

You wake up to the sound of knocking. You slip out of the bed you've slept in for this night and pad across the floor to the door. The sun is shining in bright through the curtains. You open the door, still wearing just a nightgown. Standing in front of you is one of the other princesses, also still in a nightgown, with her hair in curlers. "Princess Y/n, I've been meaning to speak with you as soon as I soon you! Can I come in?"

You sigh, but shrug, opening the door to her. The two of you sit down on the bed, and you ask, "What could it possibly be?"

"You came yesterday dressed like a peasant! And what's more, you stayed with Prince Charles longer than any of the rest of us!"

"I did...?" you ask, eyebrows furrowing. "It didn't feel like that long."

"You must've been in there three times the amount that I was, and I was in there for one of the longest amounts of time! What did you do with him in there?"

You shrug again. Of course, your mind immediately goes to the hand holding, hugging, and the kiss of your hand, but you just say, "I don't know. We just talked."

"About what?"

"I am not obligated to tell you."

She rolls her eyes. "But isn't he just dreamy?"

"Well, he's never been in my dreams, so I would say not. Anyway, is there anything else you have to tell me?"

"Just that a servant came to tell me that a breakfast is being prepared for all of us, in which the prince's advisors, Prince Charles, his mother, and his brothers will attend.. They're going to tell us which one of us Prince Charles has chosen! I'm sure it will be me! We're very close in age, you know, and I think I put forth a good image. I'm sure I have more of a chance than you do, at least."

You nod and just say vaguely, your thoughts elsewhere, "Sure... I'm sure. Anyway, would you kindly mind leaving so that I can prepare myself? Tell the servants I don't need help getting ready."

She looks at you with a strange look, and mutters, "Alright, then. I'll tell them that. See you later, Princess Y/n."

"Yes, just be on with yourself now, please."

And at that, she gets up and walks out of the room, gently shutting the door behind her. You get up to turn the lock, and then go to the wardrobe. Last night, the servants told you that everything you'll need to get ready tomorrow would be in there.

There are many dresses in there to choose from, and you decide to get dressed in a beautiful but very modest dress, as it seems like Prince Charles' advisors are very traditional people. So you first put on a corset, not too tight, before putting on a white dress with a white top and flowing silky skirts. The longer sleeves also flow out, and the dress goes down to your ankles. You bathed last night, so you put oils in your clean hair, before tying it half up. You put on plain heels that aren't too high, and some nice sparkling jewelry, and then go to your makeup.

You suddenly hear Prince Charles' unique accented voice saying in your head, Cover up your beautiful face with all that makeup?

You sigh and whisper to yourself, "Yes, Prince Charles, I'm afraid I have to." You darken your eyelashes and put slightly darker than your skin sparkling eye shadow around your eyes, before finishing it with some brown winged eyeliner. "There, Charles. That's not so bad, is it?" You brush your eyebrows and cover your imperfections, before finishing up with rouge on your cheeks and lips.

Then you exit your room. There is a servant in the hall, who immediately offers to lead you to the dining room where breakfast is going to be eaten.

When you get there, you look around to realize in embarrassment that you're the last one to arrive. But then you shrug it off, deciding that's a stupid thing to be worried about, and sit down in the empty seat.

King Lorenzo welcomes us all to the table, before everyone starts eating. Apparently, once everyone finishes their food, the three princes, the queen, and Prince Charles' advisors will exit the room and discuss the decision one last time, before coming out and announcing it.

In the meantime, you eat, and the advisors and princes start conversing with you. You keep quiet, until the youngest of the three princes, Prince Arthur, addresses you quietly, as he is sitting very near to you, "Princess Y/n."

You look up, meeting his eyes. "Yes, sir?"

His face is lit up a little as he says, "If you were to marry him, what kind of wife would you be?"

You blink in surprise at this question, and say after some thought, "Well, I suppose I'd make sure to take care of my responsibilities. I'd care about him and help him, as it would be my duty, but of course also visit my country very often, which I always care about and want to help. And when it comes to having children..." You try not to sigh. "I'd prefer to take care of them myself rather than servants."

He looks a little surprised at this comment, but nods, saying, "Alright. Thank you."

"Prince, do you have any children?"

The younger man shakes his head, responding, "No, I do not. But if I did, I wouldn't want servants taking care of them, either. Our parents always took care of me, Charles, and Lorenzo."

You nod, and once it's clear he has no more to say, turn back to your food. You have to be very mindful to sit up straight, use your napkin, and eat very cleanly, in front of all these people.

The only other person, it seems, who does not speak much at all throughout the whole meal is Prince Charles himself, the one this whole breakfast is centred around.

Finally, though, the eating is finished, and everyone exits the room, leaving only the seven princesses and the servants.

You sit. And sit. And sit and sit and sit. It seems to take an eternity, and you can only wonder what they're talking about.

And there's a nervous anticipation within you, just wondering...

Will you be the one in the end? Or will it be one of the others?

All of the girls are fidgeting and whispering, but you sit completely still, back straight, staring ahead, as your thoughts fly through your head as fast as warhorses running into battle.

"So it's the quiet one in the white dress you want to marry?"

"Yes," Charles nods, responding to one of his advisors. "She's humble, willing, kind, and the kind of woman I want to marry."

Charles' advisors look unsure, but his older brother pipes in, saying, "If Charles has finally found someone he actually wants to marry, it would be foolish to say no."

"I agree," says the boys' mother. "I trust him if he says she's the right one."

"What do you think, Prince Arthur?" asks of the advisors. "Because what if Prince Charles really doesn't know what's best for himself? I still think Princess-"

"I will not marry the fifteen year old," Charles interrupts sternly.

Arthur says, "Advisors, who am I to have a say? For I am not my brother's keeper, am I? In fact, I am younger than him. But if you ask for my words, I say let my brother do as he pleases. For if he uses his own judgement and things go bad for him, who's fault would that be? His own. He is an able adult, just like the rest of us, who can decide for himself. I doubt this will be a terrible thing, but if it is, the only one who will have to deal with that is Charles himself."

Suddenly, Charles laughs, nudging his younger brother in his ribs, saying, "I believe that may have been the most intelligent thing you've ever spoken, brother."

But the younger just rolls his eyes at this, and everyone becomes serious again as the conversation over the matter continues.

Finally, the door opens, and the group of people enter the room again. Every sits down, except for Prince Charles, who remains standing. He's wearing a very handsome outfit, with a white and gold coat, a read sash, and fitting pants. "Ladies," he begins. "All seven of you were very kind, and I would consider marrying every one of you, but in the end, one had to be chosen. After a long time of thinking it over and considering, I've decided..." He trails off, studying each of our faces, it seems, as if he's trying to build of suspense. But really, it seems more like he's hesitating.

"I've decided that I would like to marry Princess Y/n."

The whole room suddenly bursts out in surprise. All the princesses and advisors stand and shout in confusion, but before anything else can happen, Prince Charles swiftly leaps onto the table, and off on the other side, next to you, before grabbing your hand and running out of the room with you. He slams the door shut, and keeps running, still holding your hand. You trip over your cursed high heels, but Prince Charles catches you, keeping you standing, and you stutter, "P- Prince, I need to... I can't run in these shoes!"

You expect him to stop and let you take them off, but instead, he suddenly picks you up, carrying you bridal style, and keeps running. "We'll go faster like this," he says to you.

"Prince, what is all this? Where are you bringing me? Can you please put me down-"

"No. I'll explain once we get there," he says firmly.

You sigh in annoyance, but decide perhaps the smartest thing to do now is to just trust him. He runs through the halls, until he reaches a door, opens it to the outdoors, and starts running down the stone stairs in front of us. "I can run myself," you say. "It's probably hard for you... I don't want us to fall, and these are steep stairs."

"It's okay," he replies, his grip on your mid back tightening. "We're almost there anyway, and I won't fall. I've got you."

"You're... pretty strong, huh?"

"Thank you," he nods, reaching the bottom of the stairs. He runs down a beaten down path, into a little woods, jumping over roots and catching himself on the uneven ground.

"Be careful... I don't want you to trip and fall. I can run if you want..."

"Don't worry. I won't loose my footing."

And, he doesn't. You honestly can't believe how athletic he is, with so much agility, to be able to do this so easily. Soon, he stops at a clearing. The prince seems barely winded, and actually has a good mood about him. It's a sunny day, and you start look around. "We can walk now," he says before you can get a good look, and gently puts you down back on your feet "If I were you, I'd take off my shoes now."

You nod and do so, but when your feet touch the rough rocky ground, you yelp in surprise. Right away, Prince Charles does something surprising. He slips off his two boots and says, holding them out to you, "Here. Put these on."

"They'll be way too big..." you say, unsure. "And what about you? Your feet will hurt, and you'll damage your socks."

Suddenly, he smiles.

And it's a smile brighter than the midday sun up above the two of you, shining on your skin.

"Don't worry about my socks," he says, taking them off. "And my feet can handle it. I walk barefoot often enough."

But you stare at him and his little smile, barely even hearing the words coming out of his mouth. In his eyes, you can see a certain happiness, and with the smile, two dimples appear on his cheeks.

You nod, snapping back slightly back to yourself as you slip on his boots. Then you turn to him and look him in the eyes, which shine bright green in this bright lighting, and say, "You have a beautiful smile."

He looks you back in the eyes, still smiling, and says, "I'm sure you do, too, though I've never seen it."

You nod and say simply, "Do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Never stop smiling."

He looks at you, eyes twinkling, and says with a wink, "That's a hard task, but I appreci-"

"No, but you don't understand," you interrupt, taking a step closer to him. He also takes a step closer. "I believe your smile could fix the worst day, and light up the saddest soul."

This makes him smile even more, and he wraps you in a hug, laughing a surprisingly cute little laugh. "Now I'm allowed to hug you. We're officially courting. Anyway, the place I've wanted to bring you to is right up ahead here."

You nod, and the two of you start walking. This seems to be some sort of wide kind of trail, and the middle of it is growing with long, tall grass, about Prince Charles' height, with beautiful flowers of all colors growing in it. You walk along, enjoying the warm day, inhaling the sweet scents of nature, and listening to the birds sing without a care in the world.

Soon, you come along a little shed made of wood. In front of it sit three wooden chairs. "Let's go sit there," he says, pointing to them. So you go and sit down together. After a few minutes of just sitting together, ceasing the day, watching the tall grass dance in the light breeze, Prince Charles says, "Mama, Lorenzo, and Arthur all said I should court and marry you. My advisors disagreed, and they outnumbered the four of us. The only way to get out of there was to convince them that I had given in, and that I would choose one of the other princesses. So I made it seem like I was going to. But then when I walked out, I didn't. And I grabbed you and ran, to get away."

"Well... We'll have to go back there, no?"

"Yes of course we do. I just want to wait it out. Wait until things calm down there first before going back. But I am marrying you. My heart is set on it."

"So you want to marry me that much?"

This time he looks surprised. "Why, of course!"

"Oh..." you nod.

"I'm sorry... That isn't what you wanted...?"

"No, no, no... As long as... Well, I think you're starting to grow on me," you smile at him.

And he smiles back. "There's that lovely smile. I knew it'd be beautiful."

"So, tell me about this place. Surely you aren't the only person that knows about it?"

"No, no, I'm not. Arthur an Lorenzo knows about it, and a few other guys, too."

"This place feels like it has many stories for some reason, Prince. It feels like it has a story of its own."

"I suppose it kind of does. Lots of things happened here. I love this place because of the memories. But in a strange way as well, I hate it."

"Why could that be?"

"It's empty now. It's overgrown and quiet. This was... I loved this place. I still do. Back then, no adults knew about this place. Now I suppose only adults know about it. People grow. Places grow. Places also change. But most of all, people change."

You nod, gently placing your hand on his. "Do you dislike that?"

"Maybe a little bit."

"Do you wish you were still a boy?"

"Sometimes..." he pauses. "It was good times. Good... Good memories."

"What did you do here?"

"Well, we would mostly have competitions," he starts, another beautiful smile forming on his face. "We would be racing mostly. We had our ponies, and we'd race. We did other little things too though. We arm wrestled. We would bet on who we thought would win the chariot racing championship. Sometimes inside this shed here, do little things like play cards or draw pictures. It was fun. It was good fun."

"Do you still preserve the shed?"

"Yes. I... I do." He waits a few seconds, before saying, "Sometimes it's hard to let go."

"And sometimes there are things that you should never let go. Prince Charles, when i look at you, there's something beautiful within you. An innocence that makes you child-like. Being around you feels like being free. Completely free. You're a man who longs for the freedom and joy that children have implanted in their hearts. You have an adventurous streak, and you want danger, but you have such a kind, kind heart. A heart that wouldn't want to fight. A heart that just wants to run free. And I think that's beautiful."

"I guess so, but it's not convenient," he says with a soft, sad smile, looking down.

"Nothing good is convenient. Come on now. Why don't you show my the inside of this shed?"

He nods, standing up, and swings open the door, saying, "For years I've felt like a boy and a man at the same time. Everyone else was getting older as I stayed young. But now... Now I think maybe, with you, I can... I can finally grow up."

"And if you never do completely," you say, stepping into the shed, "I'm okay with that."

In the middle of the small room is a table. Sitting on it is a stack of playing cards and some dice. On a shelf in the corner is a little kid's helmet, and a stack of wood. Sun is shining in through a window that is covered by a thin, faded curtain. There are other little knick-knacks, like a top, a little carved toy horse, a little knife, and a pair of gloves used for gardening.

But your eyes are drawn to some names carved on the wall. There is a small list, but some parts of the list stand out to you more. The first name is written is Charles, but it's crossed out, and next to it is the name Max. Then under that are the names Arthur, Pierre, and Esteban. Then at the end of the row, written again, this time not crossed out, is Charles, and underneath his name are the names Lorenzo and Jules.

"Pierre and Esteban. Those are two princes of other countries, no?"

"Yes, they are. They also still race with me."

You nod. "You all used to be friends?"

"Yeah, some of us were friends. Some of us just competed against each other. Everyone who ever came here carved their name on this wall."

"Who's Max?"

"Another guy I still race with. We've always been competitive."

"And obviously there's Prince Arthur and King Lorenzo. Who's Jules? Does he still race?"

Prince Charles seems to stare for a few seconds at the name, before saying, "No. No, he doesn't." There are a few seconds of silence, and just as you're about to ask further about Jules, Prince Charles says, "Either way, you're here now. I say you ought to write your name up there," he says, handing you the little knife.

"But I never raced h-"

"But you're here. Go on. Write it."

And so underneath Jules' name, you write your own. "Good?"

"Perfect," he says with a little wink, taking the knife back from you and setting it down.

"So does that mean Lorenzo and Arthur know where this place is, then?" you ask, but suddenly you're answered when you both hear running footsteps from outside. You both immediately turn in that direction, and hear a voice call, "Charles? Charles? Are you there? It's Arthur!"

"Yes, we're inside!" Prince Charles calls back.

And soon, the wooden door swings open, and the younger, slimmer, but likely just as strong, prince walks into the little building. "Charles," he says, looking around. "Gosh, I haven't been in here since... years."

"I figured it'd be a good place to go."

Prince Arthur nods. "Fair enough."

"What's the condition of the advisors?"

"Annoyed, but they will have to get over themselves, no?"

"True enough."

"So we go back. Princess Y/n goes home. We send a letter to her father, and then she comes back in... I don't know. Probably a week. You come back in a week to court with Charles for a month, and at the end of that month, you marry."

You nod. "Alright..."

"So you should come back with me now." Prince Arthur looks down at the boots on your feet and the nothing on Charles' feet, and says simply, "And you can't be arriving like that. You might get killed."

Prince Charles chuckles. "We have her shoes. We'll switch shortly before we get there."

Prince Arthur nods, and the three of you set off, down the path, you in the middle of the two princes. As you walk, Prince Arthur talks to the two of you about racing, life, and so on. He seems to just be enjoying talking to his brother.

Soon enough, you get to the castle. You switch shoes, and Prince Charles looks down at you, saying, "Well, Princess, let's go."

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fangirl-dot-com · 3 months

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Chapter 19 - All Hail Prince Charles

As a Charles fan, the day he wins the Monaco Grand Prix will be the happiest day of my life (I will probably cry). also, weird that I legit forgot until now - is that I have not been doing fastest lap...and I completely forgot about sprint races. So, in this reality, there were no sprints or fastest points until now because I wanted Charles to have a grand slam!

So, please enjoy this fun chapter! much love to all!

like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciate!

TAG LIST IS CLOED

You stood next to the entrance to the paddock, phone out rapidly texting someone. With each sound of the turnstile, you thought it was the two brothers who you were waiting for. Well, them, their mother, and Max.

Apparently, you had gotten the time wrong of when you needed to get to the paddock, and showed up almost two hours early. And, in pure introvert form (whenever you were around people you weren’t comfortable with), you just kept to yourself and waited right by the entrance.

It was pretty busy in the paddock today. The color that stood out the most was the iconic red of the Tifosi, dressed to impress their favorite Monegasque driver. Even people who weren’t very fond of the sport came to support him.

Charles was basically royalty. Which had you questioning if you and Max were “royalty” too, since you lived there. But, it didn’t extend as much as it does for Charles and his family. People practically kissed the ground he walked on. And maybe practically was an understatement as you had seen a guy do it one time.

Your face was still buried in your phone, when someone suddenly bumped into you. You went to apologize before your eyes were set on your favorite pair of dimples.

“Bonjour mon beau garcon,” you said softly, not to alert anyone in the surround area. You were still keeping the relationship on the down low, even if it had been almost two months.

Arthur quickly hugged you, trying to make it not seem like a “romantic hug.” Besides, people had seen much hugs much more intimate than the ones you were now doing. Maybe you were toning it down a little too much.

“Bonjour mon ange,” he whispered in your ear, making a blush cross your cheeks. Laughter was heard behind him and you peeked over his shoulder.

Along with Max, Charles, and Pascale giving you smug looks, a certain German driver was also in the group.

Not wasting anytime, you shoved your poor boyfriend to the side (completely missing his “kicked puppy dog eyes”), and jumped into the German’s arms.

“Seb!”

Now that got a lot of people’s attention. Suddenly camera clicks were heard from everywhere. You frantically pulled away.

Oops.

Sebastian looked a little shy in the limelight, or maybe it was just your imagination. But you were determined to get the cameras off of him. Your eyes darted to the red and white clad driver and suddenly you had an idea. The cameras weren’t focused on him, so it was perfect.

You ran to the back of Charles and lightly put your hands of his back to push him out to the open. He gave you a questioning look.

“Just do what you normally do Charlie.”

Your eyes focused on an announcer with a megaphone.

Perfect.

You raced over, said a few words to him, and came back to the group with megaphone in hand.

“Kid, what are you doing?” Max asked, hands gripping his backpack. You ignored your older teammate and turned the thing on.

With it almost kissing your lips, you started to yell hand outstretched in Charles’s direction.

“All hail, Prince Charles Marc Herve, uh…”

Arthur leaned over and whispered with a shit-eating grin on his face, “Perceval.”

“Perceval – dude, how many middle names do you have – Leclerc!”

Thankfully, your plan worked and now Charles was surrounded by multiple journalists and photographers.

You ran back over to give the announcer the megaphone back.

Looking back at Max, who was secretly recording Charles looking so lost in the crowd, you made your way to the group.

“Shall we go Maximillian?”

The Dutchman rolled his eyes. “That is not my name.”

“Well if Charles has a lord-esque name, you can have one too! Thur, are you in our garage today or Ferrari?”

He shot you a sad-ish smile. “I’m with Ferrari today. Seb and I are doing the thing.”

A look of clarity shone on your face. “Oooohhhh. Well then, you go do your thing. Wait, but you aren’t doing it with…”

“Oui, but Sebastian is the guest and he wants me to be with him.”

Your eyes playfully glared at the German, who held his hands up in mock-surrender.

“I will return him in one piece kinde,” he promised.

“Fine. Let’s go Maximilian.”

“Geitje, once again, not my name.”

“Then stop calling me a small goat. Well, I mean, I am a GOAT, in a sense.”

“It’s cute!”

Arthur watched as the two of you bickered, before going over to save his brother. It definitely didn’t help that Charles was on pole today, at his home race. Everyone was sweating and praying that this would be the year that he took his home race. Arthur was surprised that Max was in a playful mood, since he was starting a whopping P5 today and you were ahead of him at P4.

He had wanted to ask you about it, but didn’t want to push for information that you might not have been comfortable to share.

Starting Grid

Charles Leclerc

Carlos Sainz

Lando Norris

Y/n L/n

Max Verstappen

George Russell

Lewis Hamilton

Oscar Piastri

Alex Albon

Logan Sargeant

Lance Stroll

Yuki Tsunoda

Fernando Alonso

Pierre Gasly

Daniel Ricciardo

Valtteri Bottas

Zhou Guanyu

Esteban Ocon

Kevin Magnussen

Nico Hulkenberg

Christian had asked you and Max to meet him quickly in one of the back rooms. You and Max were squished on one of the couches while your team principal comfortably sat on the opposite sofa. This felt like you and Max had been called to the principal’s office and you were about to get in trouble.

Christian leaned forward. “Now, Max, we know that for some reason your tyres aren’t doing well in Monaco this year.”

Max nodded, seeming to know where this was going.

“But we wanted to ask you first if you’d be all right letting Y/n have the priority for this race. You are comfortably leading the championship as of right now. We would have liked to extend it by more points, but we can’t figure out what is wrong with the tyres this race.”

Max sat for a moment and you winced. You knew he didn’t want to give up the giant gap that he had, especially since Charles won the last race as well.

“It’s fine.”

Your eyebrows raised as you looked at him. He met your eyes and gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his. You knew he was mentally giving you the ok to go ahead, but it didn’t mean that you had to like it. Already knowing the race, Red Bull did not have the upper hand in Monaco. This race was for Ferrari and McLaren.

The “meeting” didn’t go much longer, but the three of you did talk about new strategies so that the two of you could get the maximum points out of it. You both would be trying for fastest lap and as many positions gained as possible.

Back in the garage, you whined as you were trying to clip the strap under your helmet. Normally, Arthur would be there to help, but no, he had to be in the enemy’s garage. You were silently cursing his and Seb’s management.

Mitch thankfully saw your annoyance and came to help.

“No help today?” she asked as she clipped the strap and then helped finagle your helmet to where it was supposed to go.

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p,’ “he’s in enemy territory today.”

“Ah.”

You looked at her through the empty eye space. “Goodluck kiss?” You tried your best puppy eyes.

The older woman rolled her eyes, but gave your helmet a kiss none-the-less. You grinned as you stepped into the car.

It was definitely a sunny day in Monaco, that’s for sure. One of your mechanics held a small umbrella as you waited for the signal.

“Radio check please Y/n.”

“So Liam is in town, I saw him earlier. And we both know that this is thee Lightning McQueen circuit. Charles just keeps rolling his eyes. Also, Liam and his girlfriend invited me and Arthur for a double date to go to California for the summer break so that we can go see the Radiator Springs set up at Disneyland. Also!”

“Ok, radio is working.”

“Boooooo. You just don’t want to hear about my amazing plans. You could come too if you’d like!”

“Kid, they gave the signal almost 5 seconds ago.”

“Oh.”

“And it’s lights out and away we go for the 2024 Monaco Grand Prix. Charles Leclerc has made a lightning start on his teammate. Did he switch out his car for another? Carlos Sainz is overtaken by Lando Norris on turn 1. Max Verstappen has made a position and is now in P5 ahead of his teammate. Now, Verstappen has complained about his tyre degradation all weekend long. We just need to see how long he can stay ahead of Y/n L/n as her tyres seem to last a bit longer than his.”

“Mitch, I thought I was supposed to be ahead.”

“Checking.”

What was Max doing? He had said that it was fine for you to have the priority, but was being kind of an ass right now.

“This was not the strategy that we went over. He’s being an asshole right now.”

“Seems like the Bulls are fighting as Y/n L/n is voicing her irritation. I do wonder what they went over prior to the race.”

Arthur watched as your tried to get around your teammate. His heart sunk a bit as you were pushed off the track, but got right back on. Pascale stood right next to him and put a hand on his shoulder for comfort. He wished he could be in your garage right now, because this was the last race until Austria that he’d be able to attend.

Mitch was finally able to give you an answer. “Ok, you are going to box now.”

You entered the pit lane and were fitted with mediums since you started on softs. This race was going to be a one-stop-wonder.

Right as you were coming out of the pit lane, you saw two cars collide right with each other.

“THE TWO MERCEDES ARE OUT! L/N IS OUT OF THE PITS AND IS IN THE MIDDLE OF IT! THE SMOKE IS THICK, DID SHE JOIN THE DEBRIS?”

It was all in slow motion for you. One minute, you were in clear skies, the next you were covered in smoke. You had seen George try to go a bit wide, but you guessed he didn’t see Lewis. You frantically tried to remember where they seemed to stop as you continued through the smoke.

Arthur had watched your car disappear behind the curtain of smoke. His heart sank even more than it had a few laps ago. He quickly stood up to look at the small tv a bit closer. He was joined by Sebastian and his mom.

“Tu as dit que tu ferais attention,” he whispered.

GP came over Max’s radio. “Red flag at the pit entrance, Max. Come in so they can clear the debris.”

“The pits? Was it Y/n? I see smoke.”

“It was the Mercedes.”

“But she was right there?”

Max quickly pulled in and all but jumped out of the car.

Thankfully, you had expertly dodged the debris and flew out of the smoke.

“Woo, that was a bit smoky. I’m guessing red flag?” you asked Mitch.

“Yep, do your lap and then come in.”

It took you a bit longer to get back, since you had just pitted, but you finally made it. What you weren’t expecting was a giant hug from Max who kept apologizing.

“I’m sorry for the first move, I shouldn’t have done that.”

You bumped him a bit. “No biggie. Just please don’t do that again. We don’t need a Brocedes 2.0. Time for a juice box.”

The two of you thankfully found some juice boxes before you had to get back into the car. It would be another grid start, with how everyone was when they were out of the track. So you would have come out second, still behind Charles but in front of Lando. Max would be behind Carlos in P5.

At the start, Charles still had a great get away, pulling way in front of you like Max had been able to do in 2023. You were able to keep your P2 ahead of Lando while Max gained Carlos’s position.

Thankfully, the rest of the race was smooth going. Max had not been able to keep up with Lando and fell behind Carlos and ended the race in a pitiful P5.

However, the crowds were roaring as Charles finally brought home the Monaco Grand Prix.

“I can practically hear the celebrations starting. As he did in 2019, Charles Leclerc has won back-to-back races. And for the first time in 93 years, a Monegasque has crossed the checkered flag in P1. Charles Leclerc has done it and wins the 2024 Monaco Grand Prix. It is also a Grand Slam for the Ferrari driver as he had pole, P1, and fastest lap.

“He is followed by Red Bull’s Y/n L/n and McLaren’s Lando Norris. Carlos Sainz finishes fourth with Max Verstappen finishing fifth.”

Race Results

Charles Leclerc + fastest lap – 26 points

Y/n L/n – 18 points

Lando Norris – 15 points

Carlos Sainz – 12 points

Max Verstappen – 11 points

Oscar Piastri – 8 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 6 points

Logan Sargeant – 4 points

Pierre Gasly – 2 points

Daniel Ricciardo – 1 point

Alex Albon

Lance Stroll

Fernando Alonso

Kevin Magnussen

Zhou Guanyu

Valtteri Bottas

Esteban Ocon

Nico Hulkenberg

Lewis Hamilton – DNF

George Russell – DNF

Champions Standings

Max Verstappen – 179 points

Charles Leclerc – 146 points

Y/n L/n – 98 points

Lando Norris – 88 points

Oscar Piastri – 61 points

Lewis Hamilton – 60 points

Carlos Sainz – 46 points

George Russell – 35 points

Alex Albon – 26 points

Fernando Alonso – 23 points

Logan Sargeant – 23 points

Daniel Ricciardo – 22 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 2 points

Pierre Gasly – 1 point

Lance Stroll

Zhou Guanyu

Kevin Magnussen

Nico Hulkenberg

Valtteri Bottas

Esteban Ocon

Constructors Standings

Red Bull – 277 points

Ferrari – 192 points

McLaren – 149 points

Mercedes – 95 points

Williams – 49 points

Racing Bulls – 24 points

Aston Martin – 23 points

Alpine – 1 point

Haas

Alpha Romeo

It felt nice, to be up with Charles and Lando on the podium. It would be your first without Max. Thinking back to the last weekend in Imola, you felt proud. You honestly didn’t care if your parents were watching or not. You being on the podium without the three-time world champ felt like the biggest middle finger plus an extra “fuck them” for good measure.

You looked down at the crowd and saw Arthur standing with Pascale, Max, Christian, and Sebastian. You tried to spray them to the best of your ability after having almost dumped everything on Charles, who may or may not have cried during the national anthem (it’s ok though because you were crying right along with him).

You knew how much it meant for him, especially after Jules and his dad.

And it was great to see Lando, since he hasn’t podiumed all season long. Thankfully, he didn’t break Charles’s trophy (because you think the Ferrari driver would have cried again).

To celebrate, the Leclercs picked a nice restaurant to go to, instead of a night club. Max, who was also invited, brought Kelly and P as well.

“So Charles, now that you won the Monaco Grand Prix, do you feel even more like Lightning McQueen now?”

y/n.89 has posted

y.n89 if you told me that I would have podiumed with lightning mcqueen himself at his home race (and kind of mine as well), I would have laughed in your face. Sad my teammate couldn't join me, but this is for the people who thought I wasn't good enough. look at me now! kachow ⚡️⚡️

and I got to see my pretty boy as well!

tagged: charles_leclerc

liked by redbullracing, y/n_updates, liamlawson, and 67,204 others

y/n_on_top she cracks me up with each post, she did not tag Charles on lightning's picture

y/nxarthur hmmmm boyfriend maybe lives in Monaco, Arthur lives in Monaco, therefore - Arthur is the boyfriend

y/nxollie keep dreaming

charles_leclerc did you seriously post a picture of a cartoon character instead of me??

y/n.89 yes, because I asked you for pictures and you never responded 🤔 charles_leclerc we were at dinner?? maxverstappen1 and???? y/n.89 yeah, and?????????????

olliebearman MOM ON PODIUM

y/n_lives_inmyhead_rentfree see this is for the people literally shipping a mom and son y/n&co a single mom who works two jobs...

arthur_leclerc so so happy for you!

y/n'ssecretbf I feel bad for her boyfriend because her dad is literally Christian Horner, big brothers are Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc, and her best friend is Arthur Leclerc (no one is safe from the dimples)

liamlawson lightning mcqueen is the goat

maxverstappen1 no I am lewishamilton you're wrong there y/n.89 you are both wrong, who has 5 piston cups and who doesn't landonorris preach! 🙌🙌

y/n.nation that whole podium was chaos, glad lando didn't break the trophy

chachanation glad I wasn't the only one crying

rascalflatts guess we have to accept the invite to play at COTA

y/n.89 HELLO?????? BIG FAN liamlawson ME TOO maxverstappen1 oh no

charles_leclerc has posted

charles_leclerc I never would have thought that I'd win a race in 2024 or even back to back races. Thank you to the team. This is for everyone who thought I was done with...I hope I have proved you wrong. For Papa and Jules, I'm home! Forza Ferrari ❤️🏎️

liked by arthur_leclerc, pascale_leclerc, suderiaferrari, and 1,294,028 others

cha16 OUR BOY RIGHT THERE

leclerc_on_top YEAAHHHHHHHHHH

chuck_leclerck I was crying so much. was worried about the restart but he pushed through!

y/n.89 so so proud of you Charlie! Max will let you become WDC next year

maxverstappen1 when did I EVER agree to that?? y/n.89 just now :)

lestappenlove oh my gosh, first Monegasque in almost 100 years to win their home race! history maker right here!

max&Charlie sad that max wasn't there to celebrate with him :(

leclercbros apparently some people saw Max at dinner with the Leclerc family

y/n_best_rookie was y/n there as well? leclercbros yes she was! along with kelly and P

tifosi4ever now Carlos just needs to win the Spanish Grand Prix and then one of them needs to win Monza!

porsche.motorsport with arthur_leclerc and sebastianvettel has posted

porsche.motorsport we are happy to announce the signing of Arthur Leclerc and Sebastian Vettel to our team. They will be preparing for future endurance racing and will be brand ambassadors until then as well. Welcome to the team Arthur and Seb!

liked by y/n.89, leclercbros, endurancexf1, and 9,204 others

endur4nce I was not expecting this today....but I'm not complaining

thurthur I did not see this coming, even after seb was in the garage with Arthur in Monaco

leclercbros oh yeah, I saw that but didn't even suspect anything

y/n.89 and what do we say?? ☺️☺️

arthur_leclerc thank you y/n for setting this amazing opportunity up (not like I got signed because I was incompetent) sebastianvettel just the pretty face for us arthur_leclerc w o w

arthur-leclerc4ferrari I guess I need to change my user

arthur-leclerc4porsche that's better

y/nxarthur this is sad because I looked at the calendar and Arthur will miss the next two races along with the Vegas race

porsche welcome to the family!

y/n.89 when will I get added? I have my two Porsches and haven't bought any other cars porsche.motorsports just sign with us?? redbullracing stay back from our rookie 🤺 maxverstappen1 yeah 🤺 🤺

Vettel-with-leclerc the lineup I didn't know I needed

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19

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maryleclerc · 5 months

Text

sooooo prince!arthur leclerc? just like the royal series one

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miryum · 1 year

Text

Foundling Villa- Chapter 2

Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of war

ao3 link next chapter>>

Charles didn’t want to leave the palace. Leaving the palace meant seeing Princess Y/n. Leaving the palace meant getting married. Leaving the palace meant throwing away his freedom.

“Charles, let’s go,” Lorenzo beckoned his younger brother. “Don’t throw a tantrum like a child.”

“I thought I would be able to choose,” Charles insisted for the umpteenth time.

Queen Pascale sighed. “We had always known it was a possibility. Williams is a fine kingdom and Princess Y/n is a wonderful girl.”

“We don’t need Williams,” Charles protested. “And you’ve never met Princess Y/n.”

“They have excellent resources,” Lorenzo explained. “It will be a much needed boost to the economy. With Redull suspiciously on our borders it would be beneficial to remain strong. Also, since when do you care about marriage? Other than a few flings here and there, you’ve shown no interest to anyone in court. What could you possibly be throwing away?”

Charles grumbled, refusing to let Lorenzo’s excellent argument get to him. “It’s not about if I have a girl, it’s about my freedom.”

Arthur snickered. “You think you won’t have any freedom? Whenever you want you can get out of here. Go on a trip to Aston or Alpine. Y/n can’t stop you.”

“Y/n?” Charles scoffed at the informalities. “Are you best friends?!”

“She’s my future sister-in-law,” Arthur pointed out. “I’m not going to call a family member by their title.”

“She’s hardly family,” Charles frowned. He wanted to cross his arms like a child.

Pascale hit him on the arm. “Charles Marc! Do not talk that way about your future bride!”

“You’re wrong.” Charles continued to rant, “everyone talks about how when you get married, you’re tied down. You have to run everything by your spouse. You can’t just wake up and decide to spend all day shooting ducks. You need to tell her about it and then she may refuse you to do it.”

“Charles, I’m sure she’s feeling the same way.” Pascale tried to talk some sense into her middle child. “She probably has hobbies she enjoys and is worried you’ll forbid her from continuing them. If you allow her to continue her endeavours, she’ll probably let you do yours. I had the same anxiety when I married your father,” she placed a loving hand on King Hervé’s arm. “But then I realised that he was a loving and kind man. I got very lucky, and if you do not make Princess Y/n feel the same way, I swear, Charles, I will skin you.” Charles flinched backwards and Arthur laughed loudly.

“Have you done it yet?” Lorenzo asked abruptly.

“Lorenzo!” Queen Pascale cried, “What is with you boys today?!”

“We’ll talk later,” Lorenzo made sure Charles agreed. “You too,” he said to Arthur. “Both of you need to know what you’re doing.”

Charles almost gagged. Arthur grimaced.

“Your Majesties,” a knight announced. “Princess Y/n of Williams has entered the palace gates.”

“Oh my!” Queen Pascale exclaimed, “Everyone outside! Let’s go! Aren’t you excited? Look your best.”

“Hey, Charles,” Arthur took him by the arm and held him back as the rest of the Leclercs walked outside. “Don’t screw this up.”

“Inspiring words,” Charles rolled his eyes.

“I mean it,” Arthur grabbed his brother’s arm. “Papa was conversing with Jules the other day. I overheard them talking about the prospect of war.”

“War?” Charles stared at his brother. “Arthur, are you sure your mind isn’t playing tricks on you?”

Before Arthur could answer, the knight stepped back inside. “Your Highnesses, Queen Pascale is demanding your presence.” Charles shot Arthur a glance, but walked out the door. Arthur shook his head and followed.

The two younger Leclerc brothers barely made it to their places before your carriage pulled up. However, you didn’t get out. Blurry shapes in the carriage danced around and Arthur whispered to Charles, “looks like she’s nervous too.”

A footman soon jumped down and sprung open the door. You grasped the footman’s hand and stepped down, your gown swishing around your ankles as you steadied yourself. Charles blinked once, an eyebrow quickly lifting before steadying his expression. His mother was right; you were beautiful. That hardly meant anything, though. Many girls in the court were attractive but were vain and only looked at him and his brothers as pocketbooks. When he saw you, however, all past concerns went out the window. You looked much more demure than he thought; much more fearful than he wanted you to be. You didn’t seem like the type of person to take control of his life. In fact, Charles felt an odd need to protect you. Your anxiousness worried him and he didn’t want you to feel scared in your new home.

Awkwardly, you slowly faced the royal family. Charles made quick eye contact with you. His muscles contracted, keeping him in the rightful place with shoulders back, chin tilted slightly upward, hands clasped firmly before him, and feet shoulder-width apart.

“God, be a statue, why don’t you?” Arthur muttered.

You, on the other hand, bowed your head in silent greeting, fingers fiddling with your dress. One of your maids said something into your ear and you nodded, glancing back at her, eyelashes brushing your cheeks. You murmured something back and the footman readily moved to the back of the carriage and began unloading. Charles noticed how you peeked up at the sky, seeming surprised at the sun high in the clouds. He remembered Williams had a much colder climate than Enza did and wondered if you were regretting your choice at a long-sleeve dress. Taking a deep breath, you paced forward to stand before the King and Queen.

“Your Majesties of Enza,” you curtsied, keeping your voice low and clam. “Thank you for housing me. My mother and father, King and Queen of Williams, send their regards and best wishes. It’s an honour to be here.”

“Princess Y/n,” King Hervé said. “It’s a pleasure to have you join us in Enza. We welcome you and any of your guests with a warm heart. We hope you’ll be happy and comfortable here.”

“Thank you,” you gestured to your maids. “This is Elena and Sara, my handmaidens. I hope they can accompany me during my stay.”

“Of course,” Queen Pascale spoke up. “Any friend of yours is a friend of ours. Will you be joining us for dinner?”

You tried to conceal a grimace. “Unfortunately, I’m feeling awfully tired after my trip. I’m sorry to disappoint, but the ride was incredibly long. I hope you don’t mind if I lay down?”

Queen Pascale looked worried. “Whatever you need, dear. We can send up some food, if you like?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.”

“In the morning, Prince Charles could introduce you to the palace and show you around.” It didn’t sound like a request, though you knew Queen Pascale was just trying to instigate a relationship between you and Prince Charles.

“I would love to accompany him.” Admittedly, you wanted to get to know Prince Charles. If you were to marry him, you thought you should at least know the bare minimum. It would look bad if you didn’t know your husband’s favourite food.

King Hervé said, “Prince Charles can show you to your room if you would like to get settled in.”

“That would be excellent, thank you.”

Prince Charles offered his arm to you. The rest of the Leclercs sneaked inside, leaving the two of you alone. Elena and Sara dropped back, offering some space.

Charles noticed your sky blue dress as the colours of Williams. He felt bad that your wedding dress was to be light red. Although, his pocket square and tie were to be blue, the same colour of your dress you now wore. It was supposed to be symbolic of the joining of unions and the intertwining of kingdoms. However, it was clear that you weren’t ready to let go of your kingdom.

You slowly accepted his arm. Charles felt a pain in his chest. He didn’t want you to be frightened of him, even though he was against the marriage as well.

If you got nothing else, he was satisfied with being friends with you.

“I know you may not ever love me,” he started talking, leading you inside and up a flight of stairs. “And I’m fine with that. This doesn’t need to be a romantic marriage. However, I would like to be on good terms with you. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

You were suspicious. “I would thank you for that,” you said cautiously.

“I understand you’ll need some time to trust me.” Prince Charles seemed thoughtful, a quality you were grateful for. He didn’t seem like a controlling man. Maybe if you both agreed to stay out of the others’ way, this marriage wouldn’t turn out as bad as you thought.

“I know neither of us want this,” you admitted. “But you’re right; we could be cordial to one another.”

“I would be accepting of that,” Prince Charles nodded.

Prince Charles stopped in front of a large door.”This is you. If you want, your maids could be placed in a room close to you.”

“I would like that, thank you.”

“I’m supposed to tell you that a week from now, we’ll finalise plans for the wedding. The actual marriage is to take place in a month. Your parents are aware, but if you would like to invite anyone else, I would suggest writing to them now.” Charles monologued the script he was expected to tell you.

“Understandable,” you said. “I hope you sleep well tonight.”

It was simply formalities, but Charles replied kindly, “Thank you. You as well.”

You gave the prince a half-smile as you stepped into your new room. Your maids scurried in after you. Charles decided he liked your smile. He wanted to see it more often, as good friends would.

Being forced to marry you wasn’t the worst that could happen. After all, at least you didn’t hate him.

#Foundling Villa #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #arthur leclerc #lorenzo leclerc #pascale leclerc #hervé leclerc #lord perceval #monarchy #prince!charles leclerc x reader #prince!charles leclerc

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miryum · 11 months

Text

Foundling Villa- Chapter 11

Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner @saturnsrinqs @livster @chonkybonky @eau-rougee @champomiel @justyouraverageeverydaysimp (wow, there’s a lot of you)

Warnings: argument? short chapter... so sorry you guys!!!

ao3 link next chapter>>

“Charles, I know what I’m asking is a lot, but this needs to be done. Right now, I’m not asking as your brother, but as your king.” Lorenzo looked tired, and Charles felt sorry for him, but what he was telling him to do was crossing a line.

“Lorenzo, I am not spending weeks in a potentially hostile environment with my wife,” Charles insisted. They had been arguing for over an hour now, ever since Lorenzo proposed his idea. Since the coronation, Lorenzo had been doing everything in his power to gain support for his reign. He had used Charles and Arthur as placeholders in meetings while he went to villages and markets around Enza, drumming up supporters and fondness. But as of now, Lorenzo was worried about foreign affairs.

You had relayed to Charles what Prince Verstappen had hinted at during Lorenzo’s coronation. Charles had, in turn, told Lorenzo, who spiralled into worrying that a war would break out during his first year as King. Once Queen Pascale calmed her eldest down, the brothers and their advisors had convened a meeting to discuss what the next steps should be. Charles had gently suggested that you avoid the meeting. He didn’t want you to overhear his shouts.

“You don’t even have to go to Redull,” Lorenzo compromised. “Just to their allies or neighbours. If you can coax information out of them, it would be incredibly helpful and necessary for the future of Enza.”

“Lorenzo, must I repeat myself? I am not travelling across the continent with my newlywed wife to adversarial kingdoms!” Charles found the title of ‘husband and wife’ sliding much more easily on this tongue.

“I am your King, ordering you on this assignment, and don’t think I won’t exile you for disrespecting your superiors!” Lorenzo’s roars reverberated through the room, and surely out into the hallway. Charles flinched back. Lorenzo slumped down into his chair.

“I’ll do it,” Charles agreed quietly. “Lorenzo, I-”

“Don’t you dare,” Lorenzo held up a hand to silence him. “Just… go.”

Meanwhile, you sat in your and Charles’ shared room, penning a letter.

Prince Verstappen,

I hope this letter finds you in good health. It’ll be unusual for you to hear from me, but I hope you’re not too surprised. I've lost sleep over your words at Lorenzo’s coronation and I’m writing so you could wipe away the worries.

I’m unable to do anything to protect the ones I love if I don’t know what I’m protecting them from. I’m sure you can see my predicament. I’m aware you won’t divulge your kingdom’s secrets, nor am I asking you to, but a little more information would be beneficial.

This may seem like a ploy to compromise your plans, but rest assured, it’s not. I want to avoid conflict and altercation in any way possible, and if writing a simple letter is enough to do so, then I will gladly write a thousand.

I beg that you come to your senses to help a friend in need. You won’t simply be helping me, but thousands of innocents. I’m sure you don’t want that bloody smear on Redull history.

I eagerly await your response,

Princess Y/n Leclerc of Enza

You slowly set your quill down and stared at the words you had composed. Would it be enough? What could Redull be concocting? Your unstable alliance with Prince Verstappen could prove to be essential, and you needed to play it well. You felt as if you were playing chess against an opponent, but you couldn’t see how they were moving their pieces. You were playing in the dark.

In a state of convoluted amusement, you added a postscript to your letter: By any chance, do you play chess? If so, Queen’s pawn to d4.

Feeling much more weary than you should have, you flagged down a servant in the hallway and gave them the letter.

“What’s that?” You quickly turned around to see Charles smiling sheepishly at you. He still felt bad about his argument with Lorenzo. “Are you writing to your parents?”

You let out a laugh. “God, no. Actually… it’s to Prince Verstappen. I thought that because he reached out to me in the beginning, he would be more prone to talking to me again.”

Charles let out a sign. “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, but thank you for trying. How would you feel about going behind Prince Verstappen’s back to deduce what they’re planning?”

“Charles, what do you mean? If we misuse their limited trust, then it could make things so much worse.”

“Y/n, I’m aware of the possible repercussions. It’s the reason why I’m against it.” No other reason. None at all that had to do with you. “But I would rather sacrifice our alliance with Redull than the people of Enza. I’m getting orders from Lorenzo. I can’t disobey him. But I need you to come with me. Please.” He took a step towards you.

“You didn’t need to ask,” you said. “I would follow you anywhere.”

“And I you.”

“Be safe, dear.” Queen Pascale kissed you on both cheeks. “It’s a cruel world out there. My mother always said, be nicer than the cruel world, or be crueller. I trust you to make the right decision. She was quite the woman.”

“Of course, my Queen.” You curtsied quickly, smiling at the Queen mother’s words. You and Queen Pascale had created a quiet bond during your time in Enza. “And you as well.”

Charles was busy talking with his brothers, but once you stepped towards the waiting carriage, he quickly left them to help you.

“Good luck,” Arthur called. You waved in return. You shifted over so Charles could squeeze in next to you, even though the seat opposite was wide open. Your hand immediately gripped his, intertwining your fingers. You justified it by wanting some solace.

Queen Pascale, having seen this, leaned over to her youngest and whispered, “See? And he said he didn’t care about this girl.”

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miryum · 1 year

Text

Foundling Villa- Chapter 4

Warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of misogyny, swearing

ao3 link next chapter>>

You woke to a loud knocking on the door. What the hell? you thought. Sara and Elena usually gave a soft knock before coming in to gently wake you. Who was making such a racket?

“Y/n! Future princess of Enzaaaaaaa! Wake the fuck up!” You bolted upright, recognising the voice.

“Brenda!” you shrieked. The door banged open and your sister appeared. Two of your brothers walked in behind her. Sara and Elena rushed past them.

“My Lady, we are so sorry!” Sara apologised.

“Never apologise for my sister!” You hugged Brenda tightly. “Otherwise you would be apologising forever.”

“Shush!” Brenda laughed loudly. “I missed you so much!”

“How’ve you been, Y/n?” Your oldest brother, Robert, pulled you in for a hug. He ruffled your hair and said, “put on some clothes, why don’t you?”

“God, I hate you.” Sara handed you a robe and you threw it on. “I’ve been… dealing. It’s been fine.”

“Come here,” your younger brother, Ralph, consoled you. “You were always terrible at hiding emotions. Really, how are you?”

At those words, you broke down crying. “I miss you so much!” Robert and Brenda joined in the sibling hug and held you as you sniffled.

“Sweetie,” Brenda cooed. “It’s okay. I promise you’ll feel better soon. And no crying while we’re here.”

“How are Marie and Kaitlyn?” You asked about your other sisters.

“I last wrote them a month ago,” Brenda said. “They seemed great! Marie held a ball a while ago.”

Is this what your life would be reduced to? Holding occasional balls and writing to family members every other month? Your future never seemed more boring.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, though you didn’t want to tempt the fates.

“Do you honestly think Brenda would let us miss your wedding?” Robert asked, chuckling.

“Right,” you sighed. “That’s tomorrow. But where are mother and father?”

Ralph rolled his eyes. “Completing boring royal procedures. They’ll come by tonight or tomorrow. Meanwhile, we got to see our sister!”

“And where’s the future husband?” Brenda asked in a teasing tone.

As if I’m cue, a knock sounded on the open door. “Excuse me?” You whipped around to find Prince Charles grinning timidly.

“Prince Charles,” your brothers bowed.

Brenda giggled and said, “hello future brother-in-law! We shouldn’t need to bow to you, should we? It’s nice to meet you!”

“No, you don’t need to bow.” Charles laughed with Brenda, adjusting to her vigor. He shook her hand. “You’re Brenda, correct?”

“Yes! I hope Y/n hasn’t bad-mouthed me too much. This is Robert and Ralph.” Charles shook hands with your brothers.

“Nice to meet you,” Charles greeted politely. “I’m glad that you’re visiting us.”

“We couldn’t miss Y/n’s wedding.” Ralph said, “she’s done so much for us over the years.”

“And we couldn’t pass up the free food!” Brenda joked.

“You and my brother Arthur would get along fabulously,” Charles stated to your sister.

“Unfortunately, I’m a happily married woman,” Brenda said. “But I wouldn’t mind having a new best friend. Ever since this one ditched me,” she pointed at you. “I’ve been so lonely.”

“I only got your letter yesterday!” You defended, “you have to expect communication to take longer.”

While you and your sister bickered, Charles said to your brothers, “she’s a completely different person. Usually, Princess Y/n is apprehensive and timid. She doesn’t speak at all; when she does, it’s very quiet.”

“Y/n? Timid? Quiet?” Ralph laughed. “Wait until she opens up. That’s not the Y/n we know and love.”

“Have you thought about getting her away from the palace?” Robert suggested. “When we were growing up, she didn’t love being around the court. She used to complain about it being uptight and superficial. And yes, as a seven year old, she used the word ‘superficial’. Bizarre, isn’t it? Yet, when we would visit our grandmother’s estate in the country, she would open up. Become more lively and active. She loved the barn, though our mother always worried she would scrape her knee or muddy her dress.”

“Didn’t she name all of the newborn piglets?” Ralph asked. “There was Poe, Garth, Bean, Tassel, and… oh, what was the other one?”

“Corn,” Robert recalled.

“That was it!” Ralph clapped his hands. “I knew I was forgetting one.”

Charles was enamoured by your brothers’ stories. The tales they told sounded implausible. It was unbelievable to hear all of the mischief you had gotten into when you were young. Charles made it his mission to make you feel comfortable enough to open up. He wanted to get to know you- not the one who was shielding away from him. It wouldn’t be a true marriage if the bride was a shell of herself, right?

“Tell me more,” Charles prompted Ralph and Robert. “What other adventures did Princess Y/n get into as a child?”

“Don’t be scared, sweetie,” Brenda pulled at a strand of your hair. “Everything is okay. Take a deep breath.”

“Where’s mama?” you asked.

Brenda opened her mouth, took a moment, and said, “she’s waiting in the church.”

You nodded slowly. Apparently, your mother and father were more concerned with meeting new allies than their daughter on her wedding day.

“Princess Y/n?” A knock sounded on the door and you vaguely recognized Queen Pascale’s voice. “May I come in?”

“Yes, your Majesty.” You had only seen your sister bow to her husband, so you were shocked when she did it to the queen of Enza.

“You don’t have to do that,” Pascale smiled and reached out to lift Brenda into a standing position. “Princesses, how are you?”

“I’m splendid. Are you splendid? I am perfectly splendid!” You worried you had said the word ‘splendid’ too much.

You couldn’t stop running your hands over your dress. The fabric felt odd against your sweaty hands. “Do you know what else is today? It’s the reception, where I have to talk to dignitaries and monarchs who I can’t remember the names of. And then there’s the dinner and the dance- Oh, Brenda! What if I forget the dance?! And after I forget the dance and mess up in front of everyone, then it’s the…” You swallowed and looked around for a glass of water. Or better yet, wine.

“The wedding night?” Brenda guessed. You nodded.

“Your Highness, I am so sorry,” you said to Pascale. “I’m trying to be composed, but it’s proving very difficult. Your son seems incredibly thoughtful and considerate, but can you understand why I’m frightened?”

“Yes. I understand perfectly. It can be nerve wracking going into a marriage and not having connected with them.” Queen Pascale sat down on a sofa.

Brenda added on, “and don’t worry about tonight. I’m sure Prince Charles will take care of you.” She grimaced awkwardly at the Queen, feeling uncomfortable talking about Pascale’s son right in front of her.

Pascale snickered in a very un-queen-like way. “Dear, I don’t care what you say about my son. I’ve changed his dirty diapers. I’ve seen it all.”

You smiled, wanting to laugh at her words. A sense of longing suddenly washed over you, a small part of you wanting it to be your own mother who was comforting you.

Nonetheless, you were still grateful for Queen Pascale’s words. You wondered if she would be open to visiting you at the Foundling Villa. You had already told your siblings all about it, and Brenda was scheduled to visit you two weeks from now.

Speaking of the Foundling Villa, you had Sara and Elena visit it two days ago. They had met with the housekeeper and her small staff. With the housekeeper’s suggestions, they had vetted and hired a stable master- someone by the name Lando Norris- and a cook that went by Chef Yuki. You had asked Sara and Elena to start packing during the wedding so the moment the sun came up tomorrow, you could leave.

“Are you ready?” Brenda asked.

“Do you want the truth?” you replied.

Queen Pascale shook her head. “Never tell them the truth. Only tell them what they want to know.”

Robert appeared at the door. “It’s time.” He sucked in a breath, wondering if it was better to feel excited for you, or nervous. He wasn’t naïve. He wanted to talk to Prince Charles about not messing with his younger sister, but he also knew that Enza was a much more powerful state than Williams. Robert couldn’t threaten their prince, even if he was trying to protect you.

As Robert walked you to the church entrance, you whispered, “I’m glad you’re the one walking me down the aisle.”

“As am I,” Robert admitted. “Father would be too uptight.”

You sunk into his side. “I missed you so much. You’ll come visit?”

“Yes! I want to see the Foundling Villa.” The doors opened to a room filled with nobles. They all stood to stare at you. An organ started. There were so many people. “Ralph might visit with me,” Robert kept talking, even though you were currently marching towards Prince Charles and a priest that was ready to seal your future. A long, inconvenient veil fell from your head and two little girls were holding up the ends. “Okay, wow, that’s an impressive grip!” Robert chuckled nervously, wanting to remove your hand from his arm. “Right now, I am going to keep talking so you can listen to my voice and have something to ground yourself on. You look beautiful today. Sara did a wonderful job on your hair. Look, there’s Brenda and mother and father,” his voice slipped away. The only sound you could focus on was your quickening heartbeat. “Breathe,” Robert gave you one last instruction before placing your hand in Prince Charles’s. You registered his outfit- the royal mantle Este had commissioned for him. He looked good. His hair was slicked away from his green eyes which kicked onto yours.

Prince Charles took your hand and turned to face the priest. The organ came to the end of its song and the girls behind you set down your veil.

Internally, Charles was freaking out. Yes, you were beautiful and he wanted to cultivate a relationship with you, but that didn’t mean he wanted to marry you! Lorenzo had motioned to him multiple times to loosen up. Before the wedding, Arthur had reminded him to stop clenching his jaw and hands. King Hervé gently told Charles to smile at you.

He didn’t remember any of their advice.

The priest started talking, “dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of these two unions.”

Charles remembered seeing your mother and father before the wedding. They had been conversing with the monarchs of Redull before the rulers of Wolff swept them away to talk. The priest, who was still talking, had been implanted in Charles’ memories since the beginning. The priest had been the one to baptise all of the Leclerc brothers. Charles had seen your maids running about this morning. He wondered what they were preparing for. It couldn’t have been the wedding; you had been whisked away early in the morning to get prepared.

“Prince Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc of Enza,” the priest turned towards Charles. Was the man already done with the speech? Charles hadn’t realised. “Do you take Princess Y/n M/n L/n of Williams to be your lawfully wedded wife? For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part, and according to God’s holy law?”

“I do,” Charles said. He noticed the word ‘love’ didn’t come up in the vows.

“And Princess Y/n M/n L/n of Williams,” the priest’s eyes never left the page. You stiffened and Charles gripped your hand. “Do you take Prince Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc of Enza, to be your lawfully wedded husband?” You paled at the word. “For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part, and according to God’s holy law? Do you pledge yourself to both him and his kingdom?”

You exhaled and said, “I do.”

“I pronounce Prince and Princess Leclerc of Enza! You may now kiss the bride.”

Prince Charles faced you, quirked a brow in silent question, and when you gave a sharp nod, he pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

#Foundling Villa #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #arthur leclerc #lorenzo leclerc #pascale leclerc #hervé leclerc #lord perceval #lando norris #yuki tsunoda #monarchy #prince!charles leclerc x reader #prince!charles leclerc

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miryum · 1 year

Text

Foundling Villa- Chapter 3

Warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of misogyny

ao3 link next chapter>>

“What are our three takeaways?” True to his word, Lorenzo had sat his brothers down in a small library and given them a lesson on how to correctly please a girl. Charles would never admit it, but he learned a lot. Being a prince under the scrutiny of the court, he didn’t have a lot of time to fool around with girls. Lorenzo was the only Leclerc brother who had gone all the way; and that was only because he tied the knot.

Arthur groaned, running a hand over his face. The poor boy had been scarred for life. “Aim for the neck like a wild animal you want to kill, wiggling is great, and you’re horse racing.”

“Charles?” Lorenzo waited for him to translate Arthur’s words into something not as sarcastic.

“The neck is a sensitive spot,” Charles rattled off. “Don’t discount your fingers… down there. And change paces and speed.”

“Exactly.” Lorenzo nodded. “Trust me, your wives will thank me.”

“I’m not married yet!” Charles exclaimed, standing and stalking out of the room. He rubbed his temples, wanting to erase the memory of the last hour. Lorenzo had pulled out old medical books with diagrams Charles wanted to forget. His mind unwillingly went to you. Would sex be all that Lorenzo said it was?

As if he had wished you into existence, you rounded the corner in front of him, following a maid. Your head was bowed and you shuffled along, as if you were a child awaiting punishment. That is not how a future princess of Enza should look, Charles thought.

He had spent the past days under the careful eye of his mother, the Queen inputting her opinions whenever she could. Admittedly, Pascale had made him see things from your perspective. Charles thought about what it would be like moving to Williams where he would be leaving his family and didn’t know anyone- not even his future bride. He knew of the misogyny that was still held over the women of this continent and couldn’t imagine what you must be feeling. Having to play the silent, passive type, without knowing what Charles was like. What if he quelled your ideas with a flick of his hand? Or if he was abusive? Or wouldn’t take no for an answer?

Charles had shuddered at those thoughts. The simple prospect that you might mistake him for a vulgar and insensitive man baffled him.

“Excuse me,” Charles stepped in front of the maid that was escorting you. “May I ask where you’re taking Princess Y/n?”

“Your Highness!” The maid dropped into a low curtsy. “Princess Y/n is scheduled for a dress fitting. The seamstresses have made her wedding gown and need to make sure it fits.”

“That sounds lovely.” Charles found you staring at him sceptically. You looked away when he caught your eye. “Would you mind if I accompanied you?”

The maid turned back to you. It wasn’t her place to agree or refuse. You were the princess, after all.

You nodded. “I wouldn’t mind.” Prince Charles held out his arm and you placed yours over his. “How are you?” you asked.

“Not bad. I was just lectured by my brother, though, so I could be better.”

“Oh? What about?”

“Anatomy.”

You chuckled. “Yes, I received the same lecture from my older sister. It’s a shame older siblings tend to be so direct.”

“Indeed it is.” Prince Charles shifted topics, “my mother said she had a lovely brunch with you yesterday.”

“As did I.” You smiled at the memory. “She’s a wonderful woman, Prince Charles. Very considerate and sweet.” Queen Pascale has asked you many questions about yourself and never once brought up the impending marriage. She made you feel human and not just another thing to be auctioned off for the sake of your kingdom.

“Have you met my brothers?” Prince Charles asked.

“Have you met mine?” Your reply was harsh and quick. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. No, I haven’t had the chance to officially meet your brothers yet.”

“I’m sorry as well,” Charles sympathised for you. You were expected to conform to his kingdom whereas he had never set foot in yours. “But your siblings, they’re coming to the wedding?”

“My eldest brother, sister, and my youngest brother.”

“What of your other two sisters?” You were surprised he remembered you had two more siblings.

“Um,” you stumbled for the correct wording. “Their husbands are too busy.”

“Can’t they come alone?” Charles realised his mistake. Your sisters couldn’t travel without their husband’s permission. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. He promised himself that he would always allow you to do what you wanted. He wanted you to feel so safe and welcomed and loved that you didn’t even ask him for permission.

“It’s alright.”

“Your Highness, my Lady,” the maid addressed you, pushing open a door. Prince Charles guided you through it and into an expansive room. Many seamstresses were running about, putting the finishing touches on gowns and robes and tunics for the wedding. Bundles of fabric were thrown about the place and practically every seamstress had pins sticking out of their hair to fix the clothes of the royal family. Tailor dummies were positioned around the room, each in front of a large mirror. You saw King Hervé, Queen Pascale, Prince Lorenzo, and Prince Arthur’s outfits. You didn’t see yours or Prince Charles’s. Once you and Prince Charles stepped in the room the hectic energy ceased in time for everyone to curtsy before returning to their task.

“Princess Y/n!” A man called out to you. “My name is Esteban! Call me Este! I’m the head tailor for Enza. It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Charles hid a smile at Este’s enthusiasm.

“Hello Este!” You reached out and grabbed his hand to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well. Are these all your designs?”

“Yes, of course!” Este gestured around. “Do you like them?”

“They’re beautiful!”

“Would you like to see yours?” Este couldn’t stop beaming. He was so excited to show you the gown he designed.

“Yes, please!” Something about Este radiated intoxicating energy and you loved it. You felt excited for the first time in a long while.

“Come on, stand here,” Este pushed you towards a small pedestal in front of a mirror. “Monica! Help the princess.”

A seamstress rushed over to you and started unbuttoning your dress. “Uh, pardon me,” you instinctively jerked away. “What are you doing?” Your gaze flickered to Prince Charles. His eyes were anywhere but you.

“I’m sorry, my Lady, but we need to make sure the dress fits.” She kept unbuttoning. “You may still keep your slip-on.”

Soon you were reduced to nothing. Standing, literally, on a pedestal in front of everyone, you were only wearing a flimsy little linen chemise. Your arms were crossed in front of you and you were staring at your toes.

“Are you sure Prince Charles should be here for this?” You asked, “Isn’t it bad luck for the groom to see the wedding gown?”

“Nonsense!” Este waves you away. “It’ll give us a chance to make sure his suit fits as well. Go on up!” Este pushed Prince Charles onto the adjourning pedestal. “Take it off,” he demanded.

Prince Charles smiled sheepishly at you and started unbuttoning his tunic. You looked away when he started on his pants. Soon, both you and your future husband were dressed only in your undergarments and you still had three weeks until the wedding.

“Princess Y/n,” Este dragged over a large swath of pink material. “I know we said a red dress, but I couldn’t let you have a wedding without a somewhat white dress. I would feel terrible. So, if you mix red and white, what do you get?” He didn’t wait for you to answer. “A lovely rose colour!” Este bunched the dress on the floor so you could step in. Once you did, a team of seamstresses swarmed you, hooking, buttoning, and tying everything into its correct place. “And don’t you worry, Prince Charles,” Este winked at the prince. “It’s much easier to get off than it is to put on.” Charles nodded, chuckling awkwardly.

“Wow…” Once the seamstresses stepped back proudly, you took yourself in. The dress was one of the softest, yet heaviest things you had ever worn. To account for Enza’s weather and the fact that you and Prince Charles would be paraded around town after the wedding, your sleeves were thin and airy. Paired with a sweetheart-neckline and a tight corset which exploded into a thick skirt, it was beautiful. Lace and small jewels cascaded down the gown.

Charles let out a breath. He saw you admiring yourself in the mirror and smiled. You felt beautiful. He wanted you to feel beautiful more often. He liked your expression when you did.

“It’s wonderful,” you told Este, grinning. “I didn’t think I would like it this much. But would it be possible to lose a layer of fabric? Enza is much warmer than Williams and I wouldn’t want to sweat.” The honesty surprised Charles. Once you arrived in Enza, Charles had quickly realised that you would conform your emotions to whatever others wanted. If you didn’t like the food at the dinner table, you would eat it anyway in fear of offending the cooks. It surprised Charles that you were openly asking for adjustments.

“Of course, Princess!” Este rushed to take notes. “And let’s take it in here, here, and see that stitch right there? I don’t love it.” He started directing the seamstresses who pulled out pins and did what Este commanded. “And Chelsea! Where’s Prince Charles’s outfit?”

Chelsea stopped sewing and swept up the cloth. She helped Charles climb into the royal mantle. The jacket was blue with golden threads stitched over it. Pressed white tunic and pants added to the wedding outfit and you could almost picture a crown on Prince Charles’ head, shining brightly. Chelsea clipped on a white and black cloak. He looked regal. Granted, he was a prince. He was always regal.

“You look good,” you commented.

“As do you,” Charles wasn’t looking at the gown; he was looking at you.

You broke eye contact and asked Este, “is there anything else we can do for you?”

“No, this all looks beautiful!” Este said. “Let’s get you two undressed so we can make the final adjustments.”

You agreed, saying, “I may have to visit here more often. I adore these dresses you have,” you referenced other gowns that lined the walls. “And I would like to alter some of my existing outfits. Maybe get rid of some of the sleeves and layers?”

“Anytime, Princess! We would love to have you down here!” Este clapped excitedly. “Welcome to the Enza family!”

You took a deep breath. The Enza family. You needed to buy the Foundling Villa, and soon.

#Foundling Villa #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #arthur leclerc #lorenzo leclerc #pascale leclerc #hervé leclerc #lord perceval #esteban ocon #este ocon #monarchy #prince!charles leclerc x reader #prince!charles leclerc

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miryum · 1 year

Text

Foundling Villa- Chapter 5

Tag list (wow, that's a thing now for this): @notleclerc @sunsumonner

Warnings: mentions of sex, swearing, shitty parents, alcohol, and literally only the word r*pe once time, but only in a passing thought

ao3 link next chapter>>

“Salut!” The room uproariously cheered. Everyone raised their glasses towards the high table. Your smile was forced as you lifted your goblet with them and downed the wine. Charles cracked a grin of his own. He couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss. You had seemed so reluctant, yet formal about it. Charles knew the kiss was mandatory, but you had stared at him with such sadness and hopelessness that he felt bad.

It didn’t matter now. You two were married, after all.

Still, Charles couldn’t help but dread the upcoming wedding night.

Your hand was still clutched in his and Charles couldn’t find the energy to let it go. Joined together, a symbol of how the two of you were under the law, your hands sat on the head table where your immediate families sat with you. The toasts to good health, marriage, and fertility had seemed to go on forever and Charles couldn’t get more than a few bites of food in without feeling sick.

Your mother leaned over to whisper in your ear, “smile, Y/n. You look like you’ve married the Devil. This is not the worst thing that could happen to you.”

“Isn’t it time for the first dance?” Queen Pascale smiled tightly and tapped the table sharply.

Arthur nodded and stood. “Ladies and Gentlemen of the court, I am pleased to present Prince and Princess Leclerc of Enza in their first dance as husband and wife!”

Prince Charles rose to his feet, your hand rising with him. “My lady,” he mumbled.

You fisted your dress in your hand and manoeuvred around the chairs at the high table. Prince Charles waited patiently.

As you descended the steps with your husband, the court clapped politely and cleared a space in the middle of the floor.

Prince Charles guided you to the open space where you were surrounded by people you didn’t know. Musicians softly started playing a loving, haunting tune and Prince Charles bowed to you before you returned the gesture by curtsying.

It was a customary wedding dance; you had seen it many times before, yet it was unsettling to be performing it yourself. You tried to remember all the movements. Step forward, arm out, step back, and spin. You knew that if you messed up, the court would remember it forever. Prince Charles pressed a hand to the small of your back to steady you for a twirl. Instinctively, you pulled away. He tugged you back towards him in warning.

“Do you find it interesting that Redull diplomats are here?” you asked as Prince Charles and you danced to the left and then the right.

“Are you seriously talking about foreign policy during our first dance?” Prince Charles stifled a laugh.

“What else am I to talk about?” You were genuinely confused. Wouldn’t the remainder of your life be talking about civil things that didn’t interest you, but were appropriate enough for court? Yet how would that differ from your life in Williams?

Prince Charles shrugged. “What do normal people talk about during their first dance?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Prince Charles sighed and conceded, “yes. I think it odd that Redull representatives are present. But they were invited. Every leader from every kingdom was.”

You groaned. “Are we now obligated to attend their events as well?”

“I’m afraid so,” Prince Charles couldn't suppress a chuckle. Queen Pascale and Brenda both smiled at the prince’s laugh.

“Such a pity. Why can’t Prince Lorenzo be the one to frequent their events?”

“Lorenzo takes care of the domestic affairs. I’m the face of Enza, being the spokesperson of the Leclerc’s. Arthur, being the young and cute one, often visits the villages and towns of Enza and maintains connections with the people. We all have our roles. If need be, we relay issues back to our father,” Prince Charles explained to you, still waltzing.

“I guess you’re right,” you hummed. “Arthur is the cute one.”

Prince Charles rolled his eyes. “I’m glad you think that. At least one of the Leclerc’s has your approval.”

“Not just Arthur.” You paused before adding, “your mother too.” Prince Charles laughed loudly that time, drawing the attention of the room. Nobles whispered to each other about how the princess of Williams and the prince of Enza were lucky to have found each other; a happy arranged marriage was very rare.

With one last flourish, the musicians ended their song, prompting you and Prince Charles to release hands and bow to one another. Other royals soon swarmed the dance floor and the wedding was once again full of lively chatter.

“Prince Leclerc,” a man placed a hand on Charles’ shoulder after he exited the dance floor, you still on his arm.

“Prince Verstappen,” Charles greeted Redull’s prince.

“A wonderful wedding and a wonderful bride,” Prince Verstappen congratulated Charles. “I hope for bright things in your future.”

“Yours as well. How has Redull been doing? Your father?”

“My father has been fine,” Prince Verstappen’s smile seemed forced. Charles noticed something shift in his eyes. “And Redull has been thriving. We believe our resources and trade will be expanding soon enough.”

“What are you suggesting?” Charles clenched his jaw. He didn’t like what Prince Verstappen was hinting at. The Redull’s were known for their secrecy and he thought back to Lorenzo’s warning of a Redull army on Enza borders.

“New prospects have opened up, is all.” Prince Verstappen grinned. “To the new princess of Enza,” he raised his glass towards you.

Charles placed his free hand on top of yours, nodding stoically at Prince Verstappen. You lifted a brow at Prince Charles’s non-mandatory physical contact. “Thank you,” Charles said before whisking you off to the high table. He didn’t like what Prince Verstappen was implying, especially around you. If things were to reach a boiling point, he would much rather do it when you were out of the vicinity and harms way.

“What was that about?” you asked, letting Prince Charles hand you off to your father.

“Nothing to worry about,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I need to discuss something with my brothers, but I’m sure King L/n wouldn’t mind dancing with you?”

“Not at all!” your father said, taking your hand. “I’ve been looking forward to dancing with my newlywed daughter.”

Charles instantly noticed a change in your demeanour. Keeping your head and eyes lowered, you shrunk into yourself while dancing with your father. Your lips hardly moved when answering his questions, and you only allowed yourself the customary touch. Charles wasn’t sure, but he would expect a daughter to be more loving and embrace her father.

He would talk to you about it later.

“Lorenzo, Arthur,” he found his brothers conversing with a small group of Enza’s lords and advisors, all with tunics or jackets sporting Enza colours. The group bombarded Charles with congratulations but he quickly brushed them off, not before letting a small, genuine smile push into his features.

“You’re not happy on your wedding day?!” a knight, Daniel, cried out.

“Yes, I’m very happy,” Charles said with a bit more truth than he would ever admit. “But I’m more concerned with Redull right now.”

“What happened?” A lord, Carlos, asked.

“Prince Verstappen…” Charles trailed off, unsure of how to phrase his words. “Prince Verstappen was bragging about Redull’s trade expansion. Do we have any information about that? On what they could possibly be planning?”

“Mate,” his best friend, Pierre, clapped him on the back. “You shouldn’t be worrying about that shit tonight. Give it a week or two and I’m sure it’ll all be sorted out. If it’s not, then we’ll worry about it.”

“Alright, yeah,” Charles conceded.

“Now go rescue your wife,” Daniel pushed him towards the dance floor. “I’m not sure a bride should look so nervous.”

Indeed, you were anxious. All you wanted to do was find your siblings and leave the stuffy, overcrowded room full of people intent on speaking with you.

When you spotted Brenda and Ralph across the floor, you were relieved. So, when Prince Charles swooped in and gently grabbed your arm, you were less than pleased.

“Yes?” your tone had an under layer of unnecessary harshness. You marched on, focusing on the end goal of your sister and brother. Prince Charles quickly matched your pace to follow.

“I wanted to see how you were faring. It seems like quite a few lords and ladies want to get on the good side of the princess of Enza.”

“They should know it’s fruitless.”

“Wow,” Charles smirked. “Not letting people into your circle, are you?”

You scoffed. “My circle consists of me. I hate to disappoint, but the moment I crossed the border, everyone else I trusted evaporated.”

Charles frowned and said, “you didn’t want to come here.” It wasn’t a question.

“If that wasn’t clear, then maybe I should avoid you more.”

“We promised to be hospitable to one another!” Charles protested, trying to keep his voice low so prying ears wouldn’t pick up the potential gossip like vultures looking for their next meal. “I’ve held up my end of the bargain, yet you’ve let your end fall.”

“Every couple has their lovers quarrels,” you finally caught the eye of your brother, silently signalling for aid.

Charles, at an unusual loss for words, watched helplessly as Ralph whisked you away to the dance floor. Your brother whispered something in your ear and you engaged him in fervent conversation.

“You’ll treat her well?” Brenda appeared at his side. Charles jumped slightly before taking a glass of wine from a passing servant and swallowing it in one gulp.

“Of course,” Charles muttered. He was tired of people asking him that. Did they expect him to be a heartless monster that beat or raped you? He was going to make sure you were happy; albeit that being as far as he went. If you were unable to meet him halfway, Charles was more than inclined to ignore you.

“And you’ll visit her?” Brenda pressed her lips to her own wine glass.

“Pardon?” Charles glanced over at your sister, brows furrowing.

“Visit her,” Brenda repeated. “At the Villa?”

“What villa? What are you going on about?”

“Oh, shit.” Brenda sucked in a breath through her teeth. “I hadn’t realised she hadn’t told you yet. Forget this ever happened. I’m sure Y/n will inform you soon. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Princess Brenda,” Charles said. “Is this something I should be aware of?”

“These are not my details to disclose.” Brenda lifted her goblet in goodbye.

What was she talking about? Charles wondered. Visiting you? Were you leaving? He was unaware of a trip you had scheduled, and that was something he thought he should know about. Before he could go question you, however, a bell tolled loudly, signalling it to be ten o’clock.

Internally, he cursed as every member of the court in his vicinity turned to stare at him. Seeing as every activity had stopped, he easily found you in the crowd. As Charles walked towards you, he noted your sunken eyes and the way the grip on your brother tightened.

“Princess,” he murmured, offering his arm. You took it without a word.

“Good luck,” Ralph whispered. You looked back and offered a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

As you and Prince Charles exited the room to a loud ovation, you wanted to sigh heavily. It was odd enough that the guests continued partying while you and the Prince consummated the marriage; it was weirder that they knew about it.

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miryum · 10 months

Text

Foundling Villa- Chapter 14

Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner @saturnsrinqs @livster @chonkybonky @eau-rougee @champomiel @justyouraverageeverydaysimp @multifandom-loser

Warnings: Swearing, uhhhh talk of war and..... FLUFF (aka kissing and YAY we’re finally getting somewhere!!!!)

ao3 link next chapter>>

A loud banging awoke you suddenly. You bolted upright, breaths coming irregularly. “What’s happening?!” Your covers tangled around your feet and you kicked them away.

“My lady!” Sara burst into the room. “Lord Jules is requesting your presence right away!”

The clanging continued and you wanted to cover your ears. “What is that?”

“Warning bells.” Sara helped you pull on your robe. “They’re sounding from every village.”

“Why?”

“Princess, I’m not at liberty to disclose that. Lord Jules will explain everything. Please, you need to go downstairs!” Sara practically pushed you down the hall and towards the steps.

It had been three weeks since you first arrived at Schumacher Estate. You had spent your time writing letters to Charles and Prince Verstappen and conversing with Jules and Pierre. As it turns out, Jules had hilarious stories about Charles as a child and all the antics he had gotten up to. Jules also had insights into the tensions between Redull and Enza and you spent many a meal grilling him on all he knew. Jules laughed at your concerns and assured you everything would be alright. He had turned into a much needed calming presence in your life.

When you weren’t arguing with Pierre, sharing tea with Jules, or writing to your husband, you were put riding with Lando. It helped take your mind off anxieties that plagued your mind and Lando commented on your quick learning.

“Steward Jules,” you bent at the waist, quickly righting yourself. “I was told- Charles?!” Across the room, there stood your husband. His clothes were in tatters and his hair was ruffled, dirt smeared on his face. Blood speckled his clothing and a gash tore through his bicep.

A look of shock crossed his face as you barrelled into him, clutching him tightly. After a moment, he carefully wrapped his arms around you. Charles felt you nestle into him. He paused for a moment, waiting for you to break away. But you didn’t. He took the opportunity to hug you back, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He didn’t know when he'd have the chance to hug you like this again. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes. I was worried about you. And I missed you.” You stepped back, becoming aware of the other people in the room. Jules hid his smile. “What are you doing here? And why do you look so… dishevelled?” You wiped some of the dirt from his forehead. Charles made a face and jokingly pushed your hand away.

Pierre laughed. “That’s a nice way of saying you look like a piece of shit.”

“Pierre,” Jules reprimanded him. It was then that the men remembered what they gathered for. The tension grew insurmountably and tense looks were thrown around. “Now is not the time. Charles, please continue.” It was then you realised that Charles had demanded you to be in the room before his announcement.

“Enza is at war.”

It seemed as if all faded away as Charles explained how Redull troops had stormed the Enza palace and taken Lorenzo prisoner. He explained how he had barely escaped, having to fight off half a dozen men just to get to the stables and find a horse. He explained how he saw his friends and subjects fall in a haze of blood.

He explained how Williams forces fought alongside Redull.

“Y/n? Cherié?” Charles stepped towards you, cupping a hand along your cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“I- I can fix this, I promise! If I can just talk to my parents they’ll have to see- I mean they can’t just- but what of our alliance?” You shook your head and extracted yourself from Charles’ embrace.

Jules gripped Pierre’s forearm and whispered something to him. Pierre nodded, stoic for once, and followed Jules out of the room. You barely registered their exchange.

“Y/n,” Charles sighed and hung his head. “We- Enza doesn’t have an alliance with Williams anymore. I’m sorry to tell you.”

“What?” You felt your world slipping out from under you. Charles led you to a couch where your legs folded under you and you collapsed. “But how could they…? They promised. They signed a treaty, Charles!”

“I know,” Charles sat down next to you. He had his hands clutched in his lap and you desperately wanted them to be holding you- comforting you.

“Don’t they know the consequences?”

“They don’t care, Y/n. They have Redull to back them up. I… I don’t know if we have the resources to fight them.”

“But Enza is one of the most powerful kingdoms.” You felt your love for your home kingdom slipping away. Instead, it was replaced by love for your husband’s home. Enza, and its people, had welcomed you with open arms and only wanted to see you happy and comfortable. Williams had done none of those things.

“But how can we be powerful without the people?” Charles’ voice started to grow. He stood up and started pacing. Mindlessly, he ripped off his sleeve and wound it around his hurt arm. “Y/n, if you’d seen what I’d seen, you wouldn’t think a simple conversation with your parents could solve anything. I- I don’t know if my mother is alive or where they’re taking my brothers.” His voice cracked. “Helpless and innocent servants were slaughtered just trying to protect me. This cannot be settled over a cup of tea. Enza must fight back, but with what?” It was like he was having a conversation with himself. “They rampaged the villages before the castle. If they haven’t killed the knights by now, they will soon. It’ll take days before reinforcements and allies can come to our aid, and by then, Enza will be split between Redull and Williams. How they managed to get through Wolff and Haas without conflict is beyond me. I’ll have Jules send word to our allies and demand they meet here. It’s the only safe house we have left. Laren and Tauri are on our side, and hopefully Wolff and Haas. But without Williams…” he trailed off, glancing at you.

You were curled into yourself, still in your nightclothes. Your breathing was erratic and shallow. Your gaze was fixed on the opposite wall. And betrayal was written on your face. While Charles studied you, you slowly looked up to meet his eye. “Charles, what does this mean for us?”

It was not the question he was expecting.

“What do you mean, cherié?”

“We were the ones holding the treaty together. But now, with it null and void, what does that mean for us? For our marriage?” Charles hated the uncertainty in your voice, but he hated the sadness even more. The desperation.

“Y/n, I didn’t want to tell you, but because the alliance is broken, so could our marriage be. If you wish, you could return to Williams and be free of my name.” Charles couldn’t look you in the eye.

“You knew about this?” Your lips parted in shock as you stood to meet his stance.

“Yes,” he admitted. “I’ve known for three weeks.” His breath hitched, yet his voice continued to rise. “But I couldn’t bring myself to tell you-”

“Why?” You demanded, “Charles, this decides our future and I would think I should be a part of that! Why couldn’t you tell me?!”

“Because I love you!” Charles cried. “Because I love you and I couldn’t lose you.”

Oh.

“Charlie…” At the same time, it was as if your heart broke, yet filled with love. The hopelessness that rang out through Charles’ words was quickly masked by their meaning. “You love me?”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Charles chuckled awkwardly. He looked up to find you in front of him, hand hovering over his cheek. He wanted nothing more for you to close the distance and touch him. If you did, Charles was content staying in your touch as the rest of the world burned around him. He just needed you.

“I think it was when you showed up at the Foundling Villa for the first time?” You shrugged, looking embarrassed. “Or maybe during our carriage rides? I’m not sure.”

“What are you talking about?” Charles frowned, a loose smile on his lips. You decided that you liked the soft curve of his lips and the brown flecks in his green eyes.

“I’m trying to figure out when I fell in love with you.” You shrugged, finally letting your hand settle into his face. Your thumb brushed along his cheekbone.

Charles’ eyes fluttered shut and his breath was shaky, but his smile grew. “I like that. Wait, you… you love me too?” You nodded. “I- I never thought you would love me.”

“Neither did I,” you confessed.

Charles chuckled. “You called me Charlie. I like that.”

A deep aching filled your chest and you finally had a name for it: love that was so strong you could feel it in your bones. Little did you know, Charles was feeling the same way. “Can I kiss you?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“You don’t have to ask, cherié.” Charles smirked and you didn’t realise he could get even more attractive.

The kiss was chaste at first, but when Charles placed a hand on your waist, pulling you against him, it deepened. You wrapped your arms around Charles’ neck, desperate to feel more of him. With a laugh, he pulled away, pressing kisses along your neck. You joined him in quiet laughter as he started gently nibbling along your collarbone. You tried to hold back a moan when he ran his tongue over a mark that was sure to show in the morning. “Don’t hold back on me, cherié,” Charles’ chuckles rumbled through his chest. Heat flushed through your body.

“Wha- what of the war?” you asked. Your eyes closed as Charles started sucking on a new spot.

“Jules will- hmm, send out the letters. There is little we can do until then.”

“I guess you’re right,” you conceded.

Charles raised a brow. “Would you like to continue the wedding night?”

Your heart started beating a little quicker. “Lead the way.”

😁 😘 You’ll have to wait until the next chapter!

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miryum · 10 months

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Foundling Villa- Chapter 13

Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner @saturnsrinqs @livster @chonkybonky @eau-rougee @champomiel @justyouraverageeverydaysimp @multifandom-loser

Warnings: Swearing, I think...? Is that all?

ao3 link next chapter>>

“Do you hear yourself?” Arthur chuckled nervously. “Charles, you can’t be serious.”

“Maybe not, but we can at least spare a cavalry, right? Give the bastards a taste of their own medicine.”

“Charles….” Lorenzo cradled his head in his hands. “We are not sending our men over to Redull just because one of their Dukes insulted Princess Y/n.”

“He put his hands on her!” Charles’ tried to keep his voice from rising. It was proving difficult.

“And you punched him. All is fair,” Arthur said.

“I still don’t like it,” Charles grumbled and slouched down in his chair. Pascale wanted to roll her eyes at her son’s immaturity, but she was happy it came from a place of love. She wasn’t sure what your relationship with Charles was, but Pascale knew love-struck fools when she saw them.

“If it makes you feel better,” Lorenzo said, “I had Hasting removed from his title of Dukedom.”

Charles mumbled something under his breath, but his brothers couldn’t hear what he said. Arthur would bet his title it was a flurry of swear words. “I still want Y/n to have more protection and security,” Charles insisted.

“Understandable. As would I, if someone hurt my wife.” Lorenzo nodded and gestured for someone to step forward. “That’s why I’ve asked Jules to accompany her to the Schumacher Estate. You may instruct one of your men to join them.”

Jules bowed to Charles and while he felt a blooming of relief at seeing his old friend and mentor, Charles still had his doubts. He would protect you at any cost, even if it meant checking over details thrice. “And why not the Foundling Villa?” Charles asked. “She feels more comfortable there.”

“Because, as you may have realised, the Foundling Villa cannot hold the amount of guards and servants Jules employs. Princess Y/n will have plenty of space for her and her servants, if she wishes to bring them.”

“Lorenzo,” Charles cut his brother off. “What is the real reason? We both know Jules doesn’t need the amount of servants the Schumacher Estate requires. He could easily move into the Foundling Villa if he chooses.”

Lorenzo sighed. Charles took notice of the eyebags and Lorenzo’s stuck up hair from running his hand through it one too many times. “Charles, I didn’t want to tell you this in fear of you informing Princess Y/n, but we have lost our alliance to Williams.”

“How is that possible?” Charles gaped. “The entire purpose of my marriage is to secure that alliance.”

“No, the entire purpose of your marriage was to secure supplies. Your little… argument with King and Queen L/n disrupted that tense trust. The alliance was shaky to begin with, but now it has crumbled.” Lorenzo explained, “We don’t know if Williams will now side with Redull, but we cannot trust Williams. King and Queen L/n know the location of the Foundling Villa, but the Schumacher Estate is very well hidden, protected, and easily defendable, as you’re aware.” Charles nodded once and Lorenzo continued, “For Princess Y/n’s safety, I want to move her there. I would done it whether or not Hasting came onto her.”

Pascale places her hand on Charles’. “My dear, I know the question running through your mind.” Charles’ eyes pricked with the telltale sign of tears. He blinked hard, pushing them away. His chest ached as though someone had splintered his heart. Charles was terrified. Pascale took a breath, and said, “if she wishes, then yes, she could divorce you. There is nothing binding you anymore.”

Charles turned and gripped his mother. His hug was more of a plea; a plea for Pascale to make you stay. His throat burned with a sob, but he held it in. Advisors were still in the room. He couldn’t let the extent of his sadness show. Pascale ran a hand through his hair, quiet. It should be you comforting him. But Charles would make sure you never knew. He would do everything in his power to keep you with him.

Even if it meant lying.

The carriage bumped along and you cursed. The letter you were attempting to write was ruined by a streak of wayward ink. Pierre Gasly snickered beside you. You glared at him, but both of you knew it was fake. You could never be mad at Pierre. Charles had chosen him to accompany you for a reason- the two of you got a lot splendidly.

Jules rolled his eyes, sitting across from you as you ripped the parchment and started over.

My dearest siblings,

Is it true? Are you forbidden from writing? Do Mother and Father have such a grip over you that they control what you pen?

It saddens me that they have such an impact on our lives.

I’m moving, once again. I didn’t mean to- nor am I sure I want to. But Charles thinks it’s for the best.

Speaking of my husband, what do I do if I fear he’s hiding from me? He’s been reserved the past few days, and I don’t know why. Brenda or Robert, do you have any suggestions? I know Ralph won’t have any helpful hints. Ralph, I want you to know that I am mentally flipping you off. There’s no reason behind it, other than you’re an asshole.

Even if you have ideas or can think of a way to help, I doubt you’ll be able to write to me. I don’t know where I’m going. The estate where I shall be residing is concealed to a point where only Jules and a select few know where it is.

Whatever happens, I love you. More than Mother or Father could break or distance. I don’t fault you for their actions. Give Kaitlyn and Marie my undying love.

Your sister,

Y/n

“I can send that for you, once we reach the Estate,” Jules suggested. You nodded gratefully. Pierre reached over and snatched the feather from you. He scratched some doodles into the margins of the parchment, snickering. Jules rolled his eyes. You had to cross some of his sketches out. You deemed them too graphic for your family, even though Brenda would likely find them hilarious.

The carriage suddenly veered to the right and you cursed, slamming into the window. Pierre laughed loudly and you brought your heel down onto his toes. This time, it was Pierre who swore and Jules was the one to chuckle.

You peeked your head out the window and instantly had to duck, a tree branch almost whacking you in the face. “Where the hell are we?” The carriage didn’t seem to be heading down a distinct path. The “road” was dirt and mud, but the horses seemed to know their way. You thought back to your servants in the carriage behind you and hoped they were faring on this rocky path better than you. You had only taken Elena, Sara, Yuki, and Lando. Technically, you didn’t need Yuki or Lando to join you, but they had become part of your family. Lando’s face when you asked him to come along was worth it.

After another fifteen minutes of twists and turns on the rocky road, Jules leaned out of the window “to make sure no one followed us.” When he was satisfied, the carriage turned once more, carefully weaved through a set of trees, and the Schumacher Estate came into view.

It was a majestic house- if you could even call it that. Only royalty could look at the Schumacher Estate and see a house. It was shaped in a W with light brown stone constructing the base. The roof was a pale green, which you later learned was to blend in with the trees. Two large windows stood at the front and smaller ones peppered the sides. Two spires paralleled the house and what Charles never told you was that the spires were built specifically for defence. They were the perfect places to strike down an enemy, even if the enemy outnumbered you.

A small stable sat to the side and you instantly instructed Lando to give the horses water and comfort. Against Jules’ better judgement you had brought along Sixteen and Fifty-Five. You still had yet to name them.

As Jules’ servants were helping you move in, you caught a snatch of Pierre and Jules’ conversation. “How long will we stay here?” Pierre asked quietly.

Jules didn’t answer, waving Pierre away and giving him a stern look.

“Don’t do that,” Pierre grunted. “I need to know what you and the Leclercs have discussed if I’m to keep Princess Y/n safe. You can’t hide things from me.”

“Just like how we’re not hiding the alliance development from Princess Y/n?” Jules shot back.

You turned to glance at them and both men shut up. “What’s wrong with the alliance?”

“Princess, you needn’t worry about it. King Lorenzo and Prince Charles are working on it.” Jules smiled softly.

“But if they're working on it, then something must be wrong with it.” You frowned, stepping towards the pair. Panic started to build within you. What would this mean for you and Charles? “Does this have to do with Charles and I’s marriage? I- I know Williams has broken communications with Enza, but I’m sure I can help my parents see the error of their ways. It’s- it’s not over.”

“Princess, please don’t worry.” Jules reiterated, gently taking your elbow and guiding you into the house. He led you up two flights of stairs and into a large room. “This shall be your room for the time being. I hope you can settle in and find your stay comfortable.”

“I’m sure I will…” You were a little disoriented by the quick subject change and it seemed like Jules would do everything in his power to avoid your questioning. “But what about Charles-” You whirled around to see the door close. Jules was gone.

Sinking down into the bed, you wondered how things could go from content to uncertain so quickly.

You remembered the carriage ride back to Enza from Redull. Charles had spoken softly about his childhood and you, in turn, swapped stories. It had felt as if a dam had been torn down. But now, by not knowing what was happening, the dam was being built up again. You could do nothing but watch as people separated you and Charles; he stood at one end of the river, and you the other, as wood was piled on to conceal you from him. Water slowly filled the river you stood in and you were helpless as you began to drown.

Maybe you were taking the metaphor too far, but needless to say, you felt as if your timid connection with Charles was splintering. And you were pretty sure it had something to do with the alliance your parents secured with Enza. If the alliance was breaking, would your marriage with Charles break as well?

As you sat in this foreign room, you couldn’t help but realise: You missed Charles.

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maryleclerc · 11 months

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𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥, 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 — charles leclerc

pairing: prince!charles leclerc x reader ; prince!charles leclerc x princess!reader ; prince!dad!charles leclerc x princess!mom!reader

summary: in which prince christian arthur first day to school and i guess it’s went well

warning: english is not my native language, use google translate, i did not own any of these images. this is just a imagination, please do not take it too serious!

read my royal series here

charles_leclerc

Liked by y/n_leclerc, pierregasly and others

charles_leclerc Brunch with my mamma and papà

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y/n_leclerc My mamma and papà 😂

⤷ charles_leclerc Our mamma and papà

everythingdif Notice how Charles called his parents in-law in Italian is so so so sweet. It’s really proves the relationship between them is very good, once when Prince Charles Leclerc and Y/n were just engaged, a few reporters asked Mr. Y/l/n about Prince Charles, he said that he really thankful to know that his soon to be his son-in-law because Prince Charles Leclerc is not only kind and polite but also very caring and especially the way he treat his daughter, Y/n.

⤷ charles_leclerc I love them too, they are the most fun people to be around with

y/n_leclerc

Liked by arthur_leclerc, kellypiquet and 452,033,711 others

y/n_leclerc Baby bump update and having a brunch date with my husband and my whole family (sadly without Christian, he’s not so happy if he know that we went to visit nonna e nonno)

and during brunch today I just discovered a secret that made me want to cry but Charles never told me (crying happy tears). It was my father who told me, he said that when Charles was about to propose to me, Charles went to my parents' house and asked their permission to let him marry me. I just keep loving him more and more.

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charles_leclerc And thankfully papà give me his permission

⤷ y/n_leclerc You’re his favorite now, Prince Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc of Monte Carlo

⤷ charles_leclerc Oh I… I know, you don’t have to type my full name like that Princess Y/n

⤷ y/n_leclerc 😂 haha you scare huh?

⤷ arthur_leclerc No, he’s not scared BUT I AM

⤷ y/n_leclerc @charles_leclerc 😂😂😂

kellypiquet Your baby bump is so 🥰

⤷ y/n_leclerc I know I know 😂

pinkblushh How is your baby doing Y/n?

⤷ y/n_leclerc It’s doing great, and keep craving for Charles cooking 😂

euginemckayla REAL GENTLEMAN 😩🤌🤌

charles_leclerc

Liked by landonorris, y/n_leclerc and others

charles_leclerc Y/n and I just picked up Christian from kindergarten, I have to say I feel like he'd rather go to school than stay at home with his parents. As soon as he got into the car, he said to us in a very excited voice, “maman, papa, I had a lot of fun going to school today? I've made a lot of friends… there's a girl who's very beautiful, when I grow up I want to marry her.” Y/n was in shocked and turned to see her smiling... Maybe he just like his father 😂

I don't think Y/n expected him to have a girlfriend fast, even faster than his father. He even “suggested” us to let him go karting with his father, we accept his “suggestion”.

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y/n_leclerc Exactly like his father, got so much attention from women in all ages

milanie My daughter told my that she had a crush on your son Prince Charles Leclerc

⤷ y/n_leclerc You’re Carlotta mother?

⤷ milanie Yes, I am 😂

⤷ charles_leclerc Oh gosh he talk about Carlotta all the way home

george_laurent Uhh I can’t handle the cuteness of this family

TAGLIST: @xcinnamongirl @jaydaaasword @heartsfromtaeyong @bladacci1 @magical-spit @champomiel @greigreyhiyyih @cherrieverstappen @okurtics @georgiagasly @booksobsess

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miryum · 1 year

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Sleepless in Monaco (Charles Leclerc x Reader) royal!AU

Hi! This is my first F1 fic so I hope you guys enjoy. I worked really hard on this and am pretty proud of it!

Warnings: Swearing, implications of sex, insomnia, nightmares, death, parents in the military, and any others I missed

Word Count: 10.4k

Disclaimer: I know nothing of how the monarchy works. Take my words about the inner monarchy with a grain of salt. I took the British monarchy and twisted it to fit my needs for this work of fiction, so all of this is highly unrealistic. For example, an heir cannot abdicate before the monarch’s death, but for the sake of this fic, in Monaco, they can. No other country has as strict coronations for their monarchs as Britain does, and even there it’s usually months after a monarch is dead, but I wanted to speed things up!

Also, all of these people are exactly that- their own person and I am simply using their names and faces for a story.

Enjoy!

Countless studies showed that sleep was necessary and the more you got, the better off you were. Still, you didn’t like going to sleep. It felt needlessly unproductive. The nights were bouts of insomnia, and if you were allowed to sleep, it was always riddled with nightmares.

The most frequent nightmare started off in a meadow of dead flowers. It lulled you into a false sense of security, although being surrounded by death left worried butterflies in your gut. It was then followed by falling. You weren’t sure what you fell into, but all you knew is that it must be bottomless. As the helplessness and impending doom reached a climax, you woke up.

As a child you could always run to your parents, but now, as an adult, you had no one to run to. You were alone.

Tonight was like every other. You had trouble going to sleep, and when you finally did, you fell. You fell into the bottomless pit surrounded by dead flowers. And then you woke. The clock read only 1:44. As if on cue, the phone rang. It was your burner phone and the number was easily recognizable.

“Hey Arthur,” you ran a hand over your tired eyes.

He asked immediately, “did I wake you?”

“You know me; I’m never asleep.”

“Ah yes,” the youngest Leclerc brother clicked his tongue. “We share the same crazy sleep schedule.”

“The one thing that brought us together.” It was true, of course. Your nights in the castle had been just as sleepless as ever, and it was one night when you were roaming the halls that you bumped into the small prince. You had dropped into a messy curtsy (you were still learning how- you were only five at the time) but Arthur had laughed and said whoever was up at that time of night didn’t need to bow to him. It had then become a tradition. Whenever one of you couldn’t sleep, they would find the other and the night would usually end passed out in front of a blaring TV screen with dripping bodies from a rendezvous at the indoor castle pool. Alas, as the two of you got older and you moved out of the castle for school, your late-night meetings turned to late-night phone calls.

“Did you ever go to sleep?” You ask. “You sound wide awake.”

“No, I did not,” Arthur drew out his words, awaiting your reprimanding. You were too tired to do so, however, and just rolled your eyes. “Hey, you’re on summer break, right?” He switched the subject, “I have a proposition for you.”

You groaned. “What is it? Do you have another girl I need to chase away?”

“Carla and I are going strong, thank you very much,” Arthur said. You could feel his drama through the phone.

“Then what is it?” Arthur stalled and a sinking feeling pulled over you. “Arthur,” you demanded. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong!” He said quickly before pausing and letting the next words coat over you. “Lorenzo just abdicated the throne.”

“What?!” You worried you had woken your neighbours up, but the shock was too strong that you couldn’t refrain from yelling. “Why?!”

“He was fed up,” Arthur simply said. “He didn’t want to be a part of this life.”

“But Charles…” You couldn’t imagine what he was going through. His life had just been upended. He was always content with being second. Content with being a prince without having the responsibility of the throne on his shoulders. Now he had to toughen up and prepare to rule after his father. Unless he wanted to leave the throne to Arthur, and you knew he could never do that to his younger brother, Charles was stuck. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I want you to come back to Monaco,” he said.

“Why?”

“I think it would be really helpful for Charles and I to have you around again,” Arthur explained. “You were always such a good friend and were able to handle and control our craziness. Charles could really use an anchor such as you. I could get a position on my staff so you would have income, but-”

“You don’t need to convince me,” you smiled softly. “I’ll always come back.”

“To Monaco or to the Leclerc’s?” Arthur teased you.

“Whichever needs me first,” you laughed.

“Fantastic.” Arthur was giddy at the prospect of seeing his best friend again. “The plane is already at your airport.”

“What?” You jumped out of bed and searched for your suitcase. “What if I had said no?”

“Come on, Y/n. It’s impossible for you to say no.”

As it turns out, the poor pilot had been waiting for over two hours, just at the prospect that a random girl might say yes to the prince’s pleas. You had apologised profusely to him before cracking open a book as you were flown to Monaco.

After you landed, you were shuttled to the castle in a black van that bore the flag of Monaco. The few pedestrians that were out in the early morning gawked at it, wondering what a member of the royal family was doing out this early, but you simply shielded away from the tinted windows. They would hear the news soon enough.

You had just opened your car door and were stepping onto the gravel driveway when Arthur burst out of the castle doors and greeted you with a tight hug.

“Geez, lemme get out of the car first!” But nonetheless, you squeezed him back. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s been too long,” he agreed. “You won’t believe all the shit that’s been happening.”

“I haven’t read any tabloids just so I could hear all the gossip from you,” you said, laughing.

“Good, because they’ve all fucked the story up.” Arthur didn’t laugh along. You frowned slightly and took your luggage from the valet. It must be serious.

Arthur walked you inside, taking your bags like the gentleman he was. He explained, “I’ll get you all caught up later, but I need to go talk to Lorenzo quickly. Charles is out exercising in the gardens. He’ll want to see you.”

“Do I have to act differently around him?” You ask, “is there any strict protocol when talking to the next-in-line?”

Arthur looked at you, face scrunched in bemusement. “It’s not like he’s grown a tail, Y/n. It’s just Charles. And you never acted differently around Lorenzo than you did I or Charles.”

“True,” you conceded.

You and Arthur parted ways and you marvelled at how quickly the layout of the castle came back to you. It had been so long since you were last here, but you remembered it like yesterday.

Your feet took you to the gardens, and like always, you were blown away at the serenity of it all. Rows of bushes and hedges of all different types of flowers and plants spun out around you, twisting and weaving like a dancer as far as the eye could see. You knew that at the centre of it all was a magnificent fountain and on the outskirts were rows of apple trees. Your favourite spot was a weeping willow next to a small pond that was fed by a brook. You remembered countless hours spent on a tire swing your dad had hooked up, playing and laughing with the princes.

A wistful melancholy grew over you, but instead of wallowing in the sadness of the past, you decided to rejoice in its happiness.

But you couldn’t deny that you had missed Monaco. And it’s people.

Speaking of which, a figure was making their way through the garden. You recognised the silhouette instantly. “Charles!” you yelled.

The running figure stopped for a moment, staring at you, before starting up again, spriting your way. “Y/n!” It was clear he had been on a run, wearing black shorts and an athletic white t-shirt. Working out was a way Charles relieved stress, and you had no doubt that he was under a lot of stress right now. Charles swept you up in a monstrous hug, clinging to you like a lifeboat on stormy water. Your feet dangled in the air for a moment before he gently set you down. But the hug didn’t stop. His head was buried into the crook of your neck. “I missed you so much,” he whispered and his breath sent goosebumps along your skin.

“I missed you too, Charlie.” Charles’ heart jumped at the childhood nickname. “Arthur called me and told me what happened.”

“Please don’t talk about it,” Charles muttered.

“Okay,” you hummed, just letting the poor boy embrace you. After a moment, you realised that the hug had exceeded the socially acceptable time for friends and cleared your throat. “Okay, sweaty-pants, you’re gross. Get off of me.” You pulled away and patted his chest.

“Why’d you come back? I thought you were off at school.” Charles looked at you with puppy-dog eyes. It made you melt.

“It’s summer break,” you shrugged.

“So you didn’t come back for me?” Charles pouted, even though both of you knew the real answer.

“Nah, I don’t care about you at all.” You shook your head. “I just came back for your brother.”

“Which one?!” Charles asked you as you stepped away. You laughed loudly and started walking back to the palace. “Which one?!” Charles shrieked, running after you.

“Your Majesties,” you cursitied lowly in front of Hervé and Pascale Leclerc.

Pascale rolled her eyes from her throne and smiled softly. “Y/n, please stop with the formalities. It’s a pleasure to have you back with us in Monaco.” Per tradition, you were thanking the King and Queen of Monaco for welcoming you back into the country. Charles and Arthur stood off to the side, Lorenzo nowhere to be found.

“And how are your Majesties faring?” you asked politely.

“Everything will turn out wonderfully,” Pascale said, although you knew you and her would be talking long into the night about the events that had transpired. “Are you staying with your brother, my dear?”

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “He recently bought a new home with his family and I don’t want to intrude.”

“Well then, you must stay with us!” Pascale beamed. “Did neither of my sons extend the invitation?”

“No, your Highness, they did not.” You grinned, knowing full well what was to come.

“Boys!” Pascale glared at her two youngest who cowered away from their mother’s sharp gaze.

“Mama!” Arthur whined in protest.

“Y/n is always welcome to stay with us. I expect you two to be on your best behaviour.” Arthur mumbled something to Charles that you couldn’t hear. The crown prince blushed and pushed Arthur away. “Isn’t that right, dear?” Pascale turned to her husband.

The king smiled kindly at you and whispered hoarsely, “always a pleasure to see you, sweetheart.”

“The pleasure is all mine, my King.” You bowed your head in acknowledgment and reverence. It was well known that King Hervé’s health had been diminishing the past few years. As his age increased, his intellect and memory decreased. Though whatever his conditions, you still treasured childhood memories of him laughing at your father’s jokes, picking you up to dance at royal balls, or, if time allowed it, coming to play with you and the princes.

“And I don’t want you working at all while you’re here,” Queen Pascale wagged her finger at you playfully. “You are on vacation. Don’t let Arthur rope you into being an aide.”

“I won’t, your Highness,” you snuck a glance at Arthur but instead locked eyes with Charles. He winked at you and you knew that someway or another he would rope you into some dirty work.

“How long are you staying?” King Hervé asked and you snapped back to him.

“I’m not entirely sure,” you admitted. “School starts in September, but I could always postpone it for a semester.”

Charles cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Chérie, did you know that the castle could easily employ anyone of any talent and prestige? You must remember our tutor?”

“Charles, what are you suggesting?” Pascale lifted an eyebrow.

“All I’m saying,” Charles tried to look as innocent as possible. “Is that we haven’t seen Y/n for a while. If she wanted to, we could simply bring her schooling here. I’m sure her university would love it if they had an international student studying under the royal family.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what the boy was doing. “We’ll talk about it later,” Pascale assured him. “Y/n, come with me,” she smiled softly. “I’ll walk you to your room. As much as I love my boys, I can’t wait for a little girl time.”

She stood and glided down the steps. She held her arm out to you and you looped yours through it. “And may I just say,” you added, “I love your outfit.” She was wearing a light purple pantsuit with a skirt flaring out from the waist.

“Thank you so much, dear! I saw this dress the other day and it reminded me of you; you must try it.”

“Of course.” You and the Queen stayed in frequent contract, her sending you photos of cute outfits (she had sent you a picture of an adorable blouse last weekend) and updates of the boys (you were surprised she wasn’t the one to call you with the news of Lorenzo’s abdication) and you sent her memes and cute videos of pets you found on the Internet.

You were sure that if the princes or the Queen’s private secretary found out that you were constantly communicating, the former would be freaked out and shocked and the latter would be aghast. It was very un-queen-like to be texting pictures of baby ducks to a girl that was half her age. And what son wants their mother to be chatting with their friend?

Once you and the Queen left the throne room, you immediately asked, “how are things going? No one’s told me the whole story.”

Pascal sighed heavily, clearly burdened with things beyond her control. “I’ve seen it coming for a long time. Lorenzo has waged this battle for years within his mind, weighing the pros and cons of the situation.”

“I never knew him to be unhappy,” you said.

“That’s because no one ever saw him,” Pascale shrugged. “He was always hidden away, studying to be king. He never had a true childhood. Everything he did was scrutinised as people picked apart their future leader. He was only a child. He never wanted to let people down, but I believe the breaking point was last year when Hervé got terribly sick.”

You had heard about that. Arthur had called you in a frenzy, worrying himself into a spiral that you calmed him down from while you were miles away. Charles had called you much later that night and you two had engaged in quiet conversation about the affair.

“Lorenzo realised the full magnitude of the situation,” Pascale continued. “And he didn’t want it.” She simply stated the facts, knowing that Lorenzo was the only one who could explain the reasons behind his actions. “He called the whole family into the sitting room last night and informed us of his decision. It was released to the public this morning. Poor Fernando and Nico stayed up all night composing the perfect speech,” she said, referring to the palace communication advisors.

“And Charles?” you asked.

Pascale huffed and shook her head. “The boy is stupid,” she said bluntly. “He won’t take anyone’s advice and is pushing people away so he can cope on his own. That’s why Arthur brought you in.” She glanced at you, smirking slightly.

“I have no idea what you mean,” you said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, come off it, dearie.” Pascale rolled her eyes. “We both know my son has a sweet spot for you. Do you remember when you were eight and Charles was having a tantrum over the tiniest of thing? He wouldn’t come down for dinner, but when you went up to his room and talked to him, he came right down after you, trailing at your heels like a lost puppy?”

You shook your head and ignored the blush coming to your cheeks. The Queen didn’t miss it. “All I’m saying,” she declared as you reached your temporary room (which happened to be right next to Charles and Arthur’s), “is that although your Arthur’s best friend, my middle son has taken quite a liking to you over the years.” She turned on her heel, leaving you to your thoughts. Over her shoulder, Queen Pascale called to you, “food for thought,” before disappearing around a corner.

“Charles! Come on!” Arthur was swimming laps in the lake on a blazing summer day. You waded next to him, trying to get used to the colder water. Lorenzo was taking a break from his studies and lounging on an inflatable tube.

“I’m coming! Give me a second!” A thirteen year old Charles was still tugging off his socks. “Oh, I forgot my swimsuit!”

“Dude, how?” Lorenzo laughed. His sunglasses sat comfortably on his face as he relaxed. “We’re swimming. You need a swim-suit.”

“I don’t know, this was an impulse decision!” Charles was right; during breakfast you’d off-handedly proposed the idea and it was readily accepted.

“Just use your underwear.” Arthur shrugged.

“Oh my gosh look at this little crab!” You gasped and held up your hands. A small crab danced its way over your cupped hands.

Charles shook his head wildly. “No! I’m not going to strip down to my underwear!”

“Charlie,” you glanced at him before turning your attention back to the crab. “You would be showing the same amount of skin as if you had your swimsuit. It’s fine!”

“But,” he hesitated. “I don’t know, it just seems so much more intimate.”

“We’ve all seen each other naked,” Arthur pointed out.

“We were six years old!” Charles blushed furiously.

“Then leave your shirt on,” you said. “But come in the water. It wouldn’t be any fun with you staying on the shore.” After a second thought, you added, “Please, Charles?” You gave him a look you knew he couldn’t resist. You had the boys wrapped around your finger.

“Fine,” Charles smiled as your grin grew at his response. He could never stand to see you sad, especially if it was his doing. “But when we get out, I am stealing an extra towel.”

When the four of you were finished swimming, Charles stole Arthur’s towel and the latter dripped water all over the castle carpets. The cleaning crew was not happy.

“Hey, Charles?” You knocked on his door softly. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” he replied. You opened the door to see him slouched in a chair before his desk. It was littered with papers and textbooks. Charles looked more tired than ever and you were worried that he hadn’t slept last night. Granted, you couldn’t chastise him for it. You were up worrying as well.

“What’re you doing?” You came to stand behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder, peering at the documents splayed before him.

Charles leaned into your touch, his heart fluttering. He had missed you so much. He wasn’t about to derive himself of your comfort. “I’ve been trying to catch up on the years of studying Lorenzo had. Turns out there’s books on foreign policy and economics he had decades to read. I only have a couple months.”

“What about your father?” you asked, “He’s doing well, no?”

Charles tilted his head back to look at you and lifted a brow. “Come on, Y/n. You’re not naive. Maman knows she’ll have to plan his funeral soon. I only thought I would be watching my brother pledge himself to Monaco- not me.”

“I’m so sorry.” You hugged him the best you could in your position. “I know that I can’t help you much, but I want you to know I’m here for you.”

“That’s all I ever need.” Charles was worried you hadn’t heard him when you sat down next to him and pulled the books towards you, intent on helping him in any way you could. He knew that with his eventual coronation (god, that was a terrifying thing to think about. How did Lorenzo ever keep his cool?) the kingdom would pressure him to find a wife and carry on the Leclerc bloodline. He wasn’t forced to marry someone with status, just so long as the person could handle the public eye and the inevitable scrutiny. He wanted to form a connection with the woman and have the most normal relationship he possibly could.

“Why do you have to learn how to start a revolution?” You flipped through one of the textbook pages. “Wouldn’t you need to know how to quell one? This is so confusing.” You slam the book shut, bored after only three seconds. How could Charles have stayed up all night doing this? “Okay, what is something productive, yet fun?”

“Do you want to listen to a meeting about military strategies?” Charles suggested. “Dad wants me to start sitting in on meetings of state to make up for the lost years.”

“No,” was your immediate reply. “As much as I love you, Charles, that sounds like the most boring thing in the world.”

“It’s what I’ll be doing the rest of my life,” Charles grumbled.

“And Arthur and I will be with you every step of the way.” You baulked at the lifelong oath you had just promised. But you couldn’t take your words back now. Charles needed you to be his rock, and what good were you if you yourself were slipping under the tide? While Charles was drowning in the sea of uncertainty and pressure, you were drowning in the sea of hopelessness and love. “Do you feel bitter about it?” you asked quietly, wanting to change the subject but also know the truth. “Do you resent Lorenzo for what he did?”

“I want to,” Charles admitted. “I want to force him to take the crown back. I want him to get his ass back here and sit on the throne. I want to hate him. But I can’t. Because I get it. I understand what he’s feeling. He was already under the dissection of the press and public. Now it’s ten-fold. He didn’t do it to get away from the public eye, because let’s be honest, none of us will ever be able to truly escape. He’s doing it to be his own person. Lorenzo is taking the chance I wish I had.” He chuckled sourly, “Lucky bastard.”

“And I know you giving the throne to Arthur is out of the question,” you said.

“Of course,” Charles nodded along solemnly. “I would never do that.”

“Lorenzo did,” you whispered, giving him the tiniest of shrugs and smiles.

He shook his head. “No, it’s out of the question, Y/n.”

“I know.” You never wanted any of this for any of the Leclerc boys. They were too innocent and sweet to be criticised at any turn. “What are you going to do?”

For as long as you had known him, Charles had never looked so scared. “My best.”

The dining room was filled with the quiet scraps of silverware on china. It was almost quiet enough that you could hear reporters shouting from outside. Luckily the castle walls were strong enough to block them out. It had been an awkwardly stressful dinner, each second passing adding to the seconds it was already too late to say something. King Hervé and Queen Pascale sat at the head with Lorenzo and Charles to their right. You and Arthur sat across from the older boys. Rows of empty seats followed after you. You remembered when you and your family were invited for dinner along with other military personalities. The long table was filled with chatter and buzz, the King and Queen looking lovingly down at their employees and subjects. You always sat by Lorenzo, Charles, and Arthur, laughing away at whatever stupid joke was being said.

It was a stark contrast to what you were experiencing now.

You had expected some hostility radiating from either Charles or Lorenzo, but both were filled only with sadness. Arthur, always needing to be on the move, was tapping his foot up and down and up and down and up and down until you shot him a look. Queen Pascale was looking lonely and King Hervé sat blissfully unaware of the matters around him.

You were just about to excuse yourself when the King set his knife and fork down and stood. “Y/n, sweetheart, can you come help me?”

Your eyes dashed towards Pascale to make sure you weren’t the only one who heard him. Pascale was confused, but ushered you to his side. You obeyed, standing quickly and going to support him.

“Come along,” he led you out of the room and to a short hallway. “May I ask you something?”

“Anything,” you said.

“Can you look after Charles?”

The King’s question shocked you. “Of course, your Majesty.”

“No, Y/n.” The King stopped and faced you, looking you in the eye. You immediately looked to the ground, then to the wall behind him and finally back to him, all while mustering up the courage to meet his headstrong gaze. You felt exposed as the monarch of your country stared you down. “Take care of him, just as he takes care of you. You and Arthur are brilliant friends, but we both know your relationship with Charles is deeper than friendship.”

“Your Majesty,” you cut him off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My relationship with Charles is the same as my relationship with Arthur.”

“If you believe that, dear, then you may need to do some soul searching.” The King had an odd twinkle in his eye, one that could only be held by a person who had learned the lessons of the world. “I’m asking you for this favour. I don’t have a long time left on this Earth. I need to know my son’s in good hands. With this power and expectations unexpectedly thrust upon him, he’ll need someone he can come to with his worries and troubles. Someone he can be himself around. You were always that person.”

“King Hervé, I’ll try my best, but eventually we’ll need to go our separate ways,” you said, trying to gently show the king the inevitable truth. “I want to continue school and Charles will have to get married. His wife will take on the responsibilities of his confidant.” You didn’t add that you would be leaving Monaco the moment Charles showed romantic interest in someone.

The King hummed and started walking once again. You led him to a wooden door that entered his chambers. “The Queen of Monaco would get excellent schooling,” King Hervé offhandedly commented before opening his door and leaving you alone in the hallway.

You stood there, stunned. In two days, both monarchs of Monaco had pushed you into the arms of their middle child.

King Hervé couldn’t be suggesting what you thought he was. Could he?

“What did dad talk to you about, Y/n?” Arthur found you in the gardens. You were wandering aimlessly and ended up at the weeping willow that was cemented in so many of your memories.

“He asked me to look after Charles.” You sat down, legs folding under you like a stack of cards. Arthur plopped down next to you.

“Well, that’s easy, right? Just stick around a while more and he’ll be fine. Your job is literally to give him hugs.” Arthur laughed.

“Arthur, does Charles like me?” You asked suddenly, twisting your body to look at the boy. He sat back on his hands, getting comfortable under the cool summer air.

“What do you mean? You're his best friend. Other than me, of course,” he grinned at his last words. “And Lorenzo. So you’re maybe third or fourth on the list. After the dog. You’re definitely after the dog.”

You slugged him in the arm, matching his smirk, saying, “but seriously though, both your mum and dad hinted that Charles liked me. In a… more than friendship way.” You felt as if you were back in primary school by using that phrase.

Arthur sighed heavily, “oh god, Y/n.” He scratched his neck. “This isn’t my confession to make.”

“So he does like me?!” you cried out.

“But you like him back, right?” Arthur shrugged. “It was so obvious. Our entire childhood, you and him were always stuck together. You and I hung out too, but he was always the one you ran to when you were hurt or sad. I was the third-wheel and Lorenzo, when he had time, was the fourth. Wait-” he paused, realising his analogy didn’t work out. “You and I hung out at night, but I’m confident that if Charles was up at the same time, you would’ve roped him into our adventures. There was this… connection that neither Lorenzo or I could achieve with you. A small part of you was only for him and vise-versa. You should’ve heard the things he said about you when you were gone. It was always, ‘when’s Y/n coming back?’ and ‘I miss Y/n’. Honestly, it was annoying.” He shot you an exaggerated side-eye. You chuckled quietly, shaking your head. “Don’t get me wrong,” he continued. “I’m not jealous. You and I had many special memories without my ugly older brother. Remember that one time where in the middle of night we went bowling and practically woke up the entire castle?!”

You joined him in laughing hysterically. You remembered, “my parents were so mad!”

“But my dad insisted we finish the round,” Arthur added on. “And then everyone else started playing as well.”

“That was a good night,” you agreed.

“My point,” Arthur brought you back to the topic at hand. “Is that you and Charles like each other and if I’m the one to make you realise your feelings, then that’s a problem. My parents clearly picked up on it and are now making sure that you and Charles get together before they’re gone.”

You sat in thought for a moment before saying, “I never asked how you and Carla are doing.”

The boy smiled lazily. “It’s going really well. She’s really sweet and cares about others. You’ll love her.”

“I’m sure I will.” You nudged your arm with his. “Any girl that can put up with you is worth keeping.”

“Piss off! I have half a mind to throw you in the lake!”

“Don’t you dare, Leclerc. I swear to god I will murder you.”

“That’s an act of treason.”

“Charles can pardon me.”

“I’m sure he will.” Arthur rolled his eyes, “I’m sure he will.”

Three teenage princes barged into your room without so much as a knock. “Oh my god!” you cried, “What are you guys doing?!” You were laying on your bed with your computer which continued playing Rise of the Guardians. Jack Frost had just been kidnapped by the Easter Bunny.

“Where have you been?” Arthur jumped on the bed with you and yanked the covers over him. You growled and yanked them back. “Geez,” he muttered, squirming around to get comfortable. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“The blood currently exiting my body,” you retorted.

“Ew!” Arthur jumped back and off the bed, a shiver going up his spine. “You could’ve told me that before!”

“It’s not fucking contagious,” you said. “Unless you suddenly grew a uterus I didn’t know about.” Lorenzo laughed at your response. “What are you pricks doing here?”

“We were going to go horseback riding,” Charles explained. “We wanted to ask you to join us, but now that’s out of the question.”

“Oh. Well, you guys go without me,” you said. “Give Loki a sugarcube for me, will you?” When you were kids, the four of you had all named your horses together. Lorenzo's horse was Stark, Arthur called his Wanda, and you and Charles decided on the names Thor and Loki.

“But you’re not feeling well!” Charles protested, his brows furrowing. You shifted in your bed as a wave of cramps came over you.

“I’ve done this a lot. I’ll be fine.”

“Move over,” Charles sighed and climbed into your bed. He threw off his shoes and sweater, leaving him in an undershirt and sweatpants before pulling the covers towards him. He leaned back on your pillows and slung an arm over your shoulders.

“What’re you watching?” Lorenzo asked, sitting on your other side with his legs crossed.

“Rise of the Guardians,” you replied.

“With Sandy?” Arthur shoved Lorenzo over and cuddled into the spot next to you. You pushed the computer away so they could see easier.

Pressing play, you said, “Yeah, with Sandy. What other Rise of the Guardians do you know of?”

The movie continued and both you and Arthur cried during Sandy’s death. Whenever your cramps were acting up or your back hurt, you would fist Charles’ shirt in your hand and try to snuggle closer to him. Charles frequently drew circles on your arm or pressed a kiss to your hair.

Lorenzo and Arthur exchanged a look. How could you two be so dumb?

The field looked an awful lot like the one in the castle gardens. Some flowers wilted under the harsh sun and you made a mental note to tell Lando about it. He would be devastated to lose a plant.

It was a serene day, but you were forgetting something. You couldn’t remember what. It gnawed at you like it was at the tip of your tongue and wanted to burst out, but something was blocking it.

Suddenly, the ground caved out from under you and you started falling. You cried out for someone- anyone to come and save you.

You braced for the end. For the inevitable crushing end that would end in writhing pain or the quickness of death. Which would be better?

Just as suddenly as you fell, you woke up. It was just a dream, you kept reminding yourself as you hurried out of the now scarred room.

You didn’t want to see if Arthur was awake. If he was, you would prompt him to go to sleep. He needed it.

You weaved through the castle before stopping at a familiar painting. It used to be your favourite as a kid. A Huguenot, as it was titled. The full name was A Huguenot, on St. Bartholomew's Day, Refusing to Shield Himself from Danger by Wearing the Roman Catholic Badge painted by John Everett Millais.

You had learned about it from your art history tutor. The Leclerc boys didn’t care for the class, but you found it oddly fascinating. When you had learned about the Huguenot it instantly captured your attention.

You remembered your tutor saying, “The painting depicts an incident occurring on St. Bartholomew’s Day, when a massacre of Protestants by Catholics took place in Paris during the Wars of Religion. The white band the woman is attempting to tie around her lover's arm was an act to shield him from harm during the coming massacre and an identifier of Roman Catholicism. A small number of Protestants escaped from the city by wearing the white armbands.

“The young man gently pulls the armband off with the same hand with which he embraces the girl. Having to choose between religion and love, the man’s refusal of this badge would result in certain death,” the tutor concluded.

You had always loved the painting, feeling a sense of desperate longing from it.

“Y/n?” A hushed voice called to you. Charles walked up to you, still in his sleepwear. He paused and looked up at the painting. “Your favourite, huh?”

“Yeah. What’re you doing up?”

“Haven’t been sleeping well,” the boy brushed it off. “Are you still having those nightmares?”

“How do you know about that?” You were pretty sure you’d only told Arthur about those.

“I found you and Arthur one morning sleeping under a pool table. When I asked him about it he said you kept having nightmares and he was trying to help.”

“Ah,” you cracked a smile. “Yeah, they haven’t gone away.”

“Truth be told,” Charles was still admiring the painting. “I always envied you and Arthur. In the morning, Lorenzo and I would wake to some new inside joke that had transpired the previous night. I wanted to feel that close to you as well. I would try to stay awake all night so I could be part of the adventures, but I always fell asleep.” He chuckled at the memory.

“Charlie,” You gushed at his confession, leaning against him. “You and I will always be close. You don’t have to be sleep deprived for that. Arthur and I’s relationship was a purely platonic thing built on laughter and escapade. Ours was built on trust and caring. Not to mention all the mischief we got ourselves into.”

Charles laughed loudly at your words. “We once rigged the intercom to play polka music all day and night!”

“The nannies were so mad!” You snickered at the memory.

Charles hummed and fixed his sight on the painting once more. “The man is going to fight for his religion, right?”

“You remember?” You were surprised he was able to recollect the knowledge.

“Of course!” Charles smiled widely and his voice raised a couple notes. “You blabbered about it whenever we passed it in the hall. You always had to stop and stare. Why wouldn’t I remember something so important to you?”

A warm feeling rose up in your chest. “Come on, Charlie,” You looped your arm through his and directed him away. “Let’s go watch Megamind.”

“Okay, chérie,” Charles squeezed you in a side-hug. “But I want popcorn.”

“Stove-made?”

“Is there another kind?”

King Hervé and Queen Pascale walked into the family room the next morning to find you splayed over Charles on the couch. Charles was drowsily awake and waved to his parents in a morning greeting. His other hand was lazily stroking your arm.

“I’m going to give him my wedding ring tomorrow,” Pascale whispered to her husband.

King Hervé died a week later.

You woke to a sharp knocking. A housekeeper entered and said, “Miss. Y/n, I regret to inform you that King Hervé passed away last night in his sleep.”

Your mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

“King Hervé has died. Queen Pascale is requesting your presence in the sitting room.”

Your first instinct was to ask, “how are the princes?”

“I’m not sure,” the housekeeper admitted. “Do you need assistance getting dressed?”

“No, but thank you.” You jumped out of bed and hurried to the sitting room. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. Hervé was dead. He died. You were never going to see him again. What happened now?

You picked up the pace and soon you were running down the castle halls, still in your pyjamas. Servants in black clothing stopped as you dashed by, some even bowing at the waist. You burst into the sitting room to see the Leclercs there. Arthur was slumped on the couch, eyes glistening with unshed tears. He looked up when you came in and the tears started to fall. Lorenzo was standing by the window watching the people below already beginning to lay flowers for his father. A withered Pascale sat in a plush armchair, fingers to her lips as she hummed a sad tune. Her face was devoid of any emotion and her eyes were dry. And Charles sat hunched over, elbows to his knees as he stared a burning hole into the wall opposite him. His hands were clasped together and you could see the large ring with the royal insignia emblazoned on it.

You slowly knelt in front of Pascale. “My Queen,” you murmured. “My deepest condolences. I know words may never be enough and they can never bring back what’s missing, but he was a wonderful man and a wonderful king. All of Monaco will miss him.”

The Queen began to cry. “Thank you, Y/n, but I’ll be alright. He’s in the hands of God and I know he’s safe and happy. I just miss him is all.”

“It would be wrong if you didn’t,” you tried to alleviate the pain in any way you knew how, but you knew it wouldn’t help. When your own parents had passed, you had stayed in your room for days, a blank-eyed zombie of the person you used to be. It was only when your brother came in to see you that you broke down crying. Charles and Lorenzo had held your hands during the funeral.

You then hugged Lorenzo tightly. He let out a shuddering sigh at your embrace. You always knew the pressure on him was high, but it was as if he was finally releasing it. You knew that he would be okay eventually.

And finally, you sat in between Arthur and Charles. “Come here,” you whispered to the former who fell onto your shoulder, crying quietly.

“Is this how it feels?” The youngest Leclerc brother asked you in a voice so unlike his own. “Is this how it feels to lose someone you love? Why does anyone love when it hurts so much?”

“I don’t know, Artie.” The childhood nickname slipped past your lips. “I don’t know.”

Charles let out a shuddering breath and Arthur pulled away from you, nodding his head at you to comfort Charles. “Mon bonheur,” you wrapped an arm around his broad shoulders. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

That’s when Charles let out a broken sob and curled himself into your lap. He buried himself into you, tears soaking through your nightwear. He sounded like a crushed man, his cries turning to a need for love. “Papa,” his voice broke. “Why does everyone have to leave?”

“No one is leaving you, mon bonheur,” you reassured him.

“Yes, they are!” he protested, “Papa left all of us and now you’ll leave too and I… I can’t let that happen.”

“I’m not leaving you.” You couldn’t help but smile sadly. “Artie’s been helping me think it through and I’m going to move back to Monaco. I’ve missed you guys too much to leave again.”

“Really?” Charles sounded like a lonely child.

“Really,” you confirmed it with a nod of your head. “I’ll be with you every step of the way, as will your family because we love you.” You rested your cheek on his hair. “It’ll all be alright. This is the hardest part of it all.” All the Leclerc’s were listening in, hoping for some way to cope with the loss of their husband and father. “But it’ll get easier. One day you’ll wake up and not think about him at all. Then you’ll go to bed and realise it and feel bad, because you think you need to remember him everyday to honour him and all the happy times together. But then someone makes you laugh and you feel back to your old self for a second. Then you’ll realise it’s what he would want. He would want you to laugh and love and live. Just because someone is gone doesn’t mean you can stop living. Every once in a while you’ll see something that will remind you of him and you’ll think of a good time together. Everything will turn a shade of melancholy for a while, but you’ll see your family and they’ll lift you up again. No one leaves you. And the reason why it hurts so much, Artie,” you direct your words to him, “is because you loved him. To be human is to love and to lose. And it’s terrible. And we hate it. Losing someone is an awful thing to go through and there’s nothing that anyone can do or say that will make the pain go away. But you still have each other,” you shrug. “That seems like a pretty sweet deal.”

“You were always the best at pep talks,” Lorenzo huffs a small laugh. “Could always make me feel better after a hard day.”

“We should employ you as our personal pep-talker,” Arthur added, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“How much would I get paid?” you retorted, trying to bring humour to the situation.

“As much as you need to keep you here.” Charles immersed himself in you. He loved the way you smelled, the way your skin sent shivers up his, the way your heart beated, and everything else about you.

“Come along, boys,” Pascale stood up suddenly. “There’s a lot that needs to be done.”

The next days were a blur. You hardly remembered any of it. Pascale was in charge of planning Hervé’s funeral, and when it got too overwhelming, Arthur took over. Your hours were filled with planning the coronation. Luckily, most of it was protocol and out of your control, but swabs of fabric and long guest lists were still shoved your way. Mercifully, Lorenzo assisted you with the intricate monarchy procedures. Charles was off doing who knows what and who knows where. Some nights you would peek into his room and find him sprawled out on the bed, snoring softly. You would ease his shoes off his feet and carefully loosen his tie before sneaking out of the room.

Overnight, it was as if the castle had transformed. The flags were all drawn at half-mast, yards of black fabric covered the windows, and everyday at noon, the bells would toll endlessly.

You weren’t allowed to walk with the royal family at the procession, but instead with the long lines of servants that came after the guards and knights. Crowds gathered in the streets to watch their beloved king parade pass in a suffocating, but ethereal and eternal coffin. You wanted to cover your ears as bells rang and rang and rang as the procession went on.

During the funeral, Arthur brought you up to the front so you could take your rightful place among the family. Charles instantly gripped your hand.

This wasn’t like your parents funeral, both of whom had died in combat when a stray bomb had blown their lives away. They were buried in a small military cemetery on the outskirts of Monaco where you were handed two Mon��gasque flags as the next-of-kin. That’s what had broken you on that day, being reminded of how your parents died. Of course, the press didn’t care, hounding after their next story of Monaco Royal Family Seen at Random Funeral or We Invade Someone’s Mourning Time to Get Pictures of our Monarchs or New Girlfriend to a Monégasque Prince Because They Were Seen Holding Hands at a Sad Event? Lorenzo and Charles had given the press a good talking-to.

King Hervé’s funeral was in a grand church where he would be buried in a stone mausoleum after the traditional prayers. Queen Pascale laid a red carnation on his coffin before it was lowered into the hauntingly beautiful mausoleum.

Charles let out a low sigh and when you glanced over you saw him crying silently. You knew no words could help him at that moment. It was as if you could feel the sadness radiating off of him. You would take it all away if you could. Anything to help him.

Charles had the same thought during your parents’ funeral.

His coronation was three days later. Arthur had found a loophole in the ceremony and instead of sending you an invitation, wrote you down as his plus-one, therefore earning you a seat in the front row. You had puzzled over what to wear that day, finally settling on a red gown for the colours of Monaco. Arthur and you entered behind Lorenzo and Pascale as the Monégasque anthem played.

“Oh my gosh,” Arthur muttered to you. “So many stuffy people in stuffy clothes.”

You shushed him, “quiet!” Arthur gave you his signature side-eye and you wanted to burst out laughing. You tried to hold it in but a snicker got past you. Arthur let out a giggle at that. Pascale held a finger to her lips, hiding a smile of her own.

The priest marched down the aisle and as he reached the altar, the organ stopped playing. A choir started singing, everybody stood, and Charles entered the church.

You almost stopped breathing.

You had never seen him look so regal. Charles was adorned by the coronation robes and crown jewels. His hair was styled to perfection and his shoes shined so brightly you could see your reflection in them. He was celestial.

“Close your mouth,” Arthur bent over and whispered to you. “You’ll catch flies.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed.

“Swearing in a house of God?” Arthur hissed. “Heinous.”

As Charles passed, people bowed. When Charles glided by the first row, Lorenzo and Arthur bent at the waist while you curtsied deeply. Pascale stayed upright but placed a hand over her heart. Charles climbed the steps and knelt before the priest.

The priest gave a long speech and you could practically feel Charles’ irritation rolling off of him in waves. His knees must be hurting by now. Finally, he was to recite his vows.

“Is your Majesty willing to take Oath?” the priest asked.

“I am willing,” Charles’ voice reverberated through the hall. Something stirred in your chest. You knew he was telling the truth.

The priest outstretched the royal sceptre towards Charles. “Will you accept the responsibilities as king for as long as you shall live?”

“I do,” Charles gripped the sceptre and held the cool metal in his palm.

“Will you solemnly swear to govern the people of Monaco and promise to execute Law, Justice, and Mercy in all your judgements?”

“I swear,” Charles repeated.

“Will you to the utmost of your power,” the priest declared, “maintain the Laws of God and its true profession? Will you maintain and preserve inviolably the settlement of the doctrine, worship, discipline, and government thereof, as by law established in Monaco? Will you preserve all such rights and privileges of the people of Monaco, as by law do or shall appertain to them?”

“I do swear by all.”

“Will you to the utmost of your power hold true peace under your rule?”

“I will,”

“And you,” the priest raised his arms and addressed the church. “The people and subjects of Monaco, all who so desire, say together: ‘I swear that I will pay true allegiance to Your Majesty, and to your heirs and successors, according to law, so help us in the name of our country.’”

People all over Monaco joined together to say, “I swear that I will pay true allegiance to Your Majesty, and to your heirs,” Arthur nudged your arm at that and you pinched him. “And successors, according to law, so help us in the name of our country.” Charles bowed his head as he listened to his people.

“Do the people of Monaco accept Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc to be crowned as their king?”

“We do,”

“Will the princes and heirs of Monaco please join us at the altar?” Lorenzo and Arthur stepped out into the church aisle and Charles stood and turned around. His robe curled around his feet and the spectre gleamed in the stained glass light. He caught your eye right away and you sent him a wink, lips curling into a smile. The new King of Monaco blushed and glanced at his feet. Pascale beamed at the exchange.

“Please kneel at the feet of your King,” the priest asked of the Leclerc boys. They did as they were told. Charles outstretched his hand which wore the royal ring. “Do you swear to aid your King in any way possible? Do you swear, in case of harm, to assume the position of monarch of Monaco until your King is married in law and love?” Charles’ swallowed and his stare remained firmly on the ground.

“We swear.” They both took turns grasping Charles’ hand and gently placing a kiss on the ring.

“You may return to your seats,” the priest allowed.

Arthur stood back next to you and said, “My mouth tastes like metal.”

“Sucks to be you.”

The priest concluded, “Let us rejoice in our new sovereign king of Monaco as he pledges to serve and protect us all.” The priest turned and lifted the Crown of Monaco from an altarboy. “Let Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc be crowned as the King of Monaco.” And he placed the Monégasque royal crown on Charles’ head.

Charles embraced the thunderous applause of his people. A swelling pride erupted in your chest. You had never been so elated.

“Then let this joyous day be celebrated across the land in the eyes of God,” the priest called out loudly and Charles stepped down the altar stairs and into the role of King.

“Where’s Lorenzo?”

“I don’t wanna know.”

“You don’t think…”

“Oh, I know! I saw him going off with a daughter of a duke a couple minutes ago.”

“Ew!” You groaned, shaking your head furiously, knowing the next time you saw Lorenzo, you wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye.

“What do you expect?” Charles whispered in your ear, body pressed up against yours. “This is Arthur’s seventeenth birthday. We’re all legal now.”

“And are you going to exploit your legality?” You smirked, tilting up to look at him.

Charles hummed lowly and you could feel the vibration in his chest. “Maybe. Are you?”

You thought about your next words. You were sure he could feel your heart; it was banging like a drum, erupting with butterflies, and fluttering with worries. If you responded with a nod, where could it take you? If you shook your head, would you spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been?

And did you want this?

Did you want Charles?

… Did you even like Charles?

Charles picked up on your hesitancy and said quietly, “there’s absolutely no pressure, but I want you to know that my room is always open to you.” You glanced at him, noting the double entendre, before letting your eyes rest comfortably back on his chest. It was emblazoned with medals and sashes, akin to his brothers.

You gave him a single nod- one that only he could see. A secret between the two of you. In response, Charles pressed a kiss to your forehead.

That night, you paced outside his room for quite some time. Fear eventually overcame you and you hurried back to your room. You couldn’t go in. Charles sat awake, waiting all night with the hope that you would come to him.

The next weekend you left for college. You didn’t see him again until Lorenzo’s abdication, but it was as you never left.

“May I have this dance?” You turned to see Charles standing behind you, smiling cockily. He had changed out of his robe for a much more modern black tuxedo, paired with a red pocket square.

“Of course, my King.” Charles’ eyes darkened at your response and he raised a brow. “But are you sure you want your first dance to be with me?”

“Who else would I dance with?” Charles wondered. “I’ve already danced with my mother. I want the next to be with you.”

You let the king sweep you out onto the dance floor, letting the years of training take hold of you. Effortlessly, the two of you were able to float along and keep up conversation.

You asked, “how do you feel?”

Charles shrugged. “No different from when I woke up. Must I say, you are looking radiant today.”

You dipped your head to hide your smile. “Thank you. I can’t remember the last time I got dressed up.”

Charles hummed, but didn’t say anything. After a moment, he said, “it was just procedure, you know that, right?”

“What do you mean?” Charles spun you around in a small circle before bringing you back to him.

“They still have that stupid line in the coronation vows. ‘Pay true allegiance to Your Majesty, and to your heirs and successors.’” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter if I have heirs or not. They still have Arthur as next in line.”

You frowned. “I thought you wanted a family?”

“I do,” Charles stopped dancing. Your hand rested on his shoulder and his gripped your waist. Your other hands were entwined intimately. If he could, Charles would stay like this forever. No one else; just you and him. That’s all he ever needed. “I think I’ve made that clear.”

“Then what’s stopping you?” You wanted to step away from him. You needed to put some distance between the two of you, but you couldn’t. You could never leave him. It was like a magnetic force connected the two of you. No matter how long you were apart, you would always end up back in each other's arms.

“Fear,” Charles admitted. “I couldn’t handle rejection. It would break me. All my life I’ve known it’s her. Somewhere deep inside of me could tell. I can’t be away from her. I need to see her and make sure she’s safe. I need to hold her and love her. Whenever we’re apart it tears me up inside. If she were ever to refuse me I don’t know how I would go on. She’s my other half. My lasting pair. Ma chérie.”

People were stopping and staring at the King and you. Lorenzo poked at his mother who stifled a gasp.

Arthur asked, “why aren’t they dancing?”

“I don’t know,” Lorenzo sounded panicked. “The press are going to have a field day.”

“Don’t you boys see?” Pascale was grinning. “They’re in love and finally realising it. Who cares about the press? This is about them.”

“You were always one for romance, mama,” Arthur said.

“Charlie,” you said. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Charles beamed and did as he was told. You pulled him close, wrapping your arms around his neck. One of his hands cupped your cheek while the other settled on the small of your back, wanting you closer still. It was a tender kiss, and long overdue. It was like kissing was created just for the two of you; just so you could experience each other. If deities were real, you were sure Aphrodite had smiled down from the heavens and chosen you and Charles.

When you broke apart and the cameras continued flashing, Charles said, “ma chérie, I cannot tell you how long I’ve waited for that.”

“I hope you weren’t disappointed?”

“With you? Never.”

It was a quiet morning. You had woken up a few minutes ago but decided to stay in your husband’s warm embrace. Charles’ arm was wrapped tightly around your torso and you could feel his breath on your bare shoulder.

Charles shifted softly and groaned, “good morning.” You would never get used to his morning voice.

“I’ll never get used to your morning voice.” You rolled over to greet him. Charles smiled lazily and stroked your cheek lovingly.

“Hello my beautiful Queen.”

“Hello my handsome King. Did you sleep well?”

“With what little sleep I got, I slept wonderfully.” He winked, referring to last night’s activities.

“What do you have planned for today?” you asked while reaching for his hand. Charles gladly gave it to you and interlaced your fingers.

“Just a couple of meetings with the Board. Then I’ll have the rest of the day to spend with you and Liza.”

“That’s nice. She’s been wanting to show you her new tricks on Danvers.” You referred to your daughter’s horse.

“She’s going to surpass me someday.” Charles jokingly shook his head.

“Hate to break it to you, but she already has, old man,” you teased.

Charles gaped at your words. “Old man?! If that’s true, then you’re calling yourself an old woman.”

“I’m not an old woman,” you explained. “I just married an old man. I’m in it for the money.”

Charles laughed loudly. “Well, I hope you’re happy with your old man, ma chérie, because he’s not ever letting you go.”

“I’m very happy with him.” You grinned and kissed him on the corner of his mouth.

Before Charles could chase after you with the complaint of wanting a real kiss, the door to your bedroom banged open.

“Maman! Papa!” A little voice called out.

“Is everyone decent?” Arthur yelled out from around the corner. He stuck his head in the room, eyes firmly closed. “‘Cause I still have the last image burned into my retinas.”

“You only saw my butt!” Charles scoffed.

“It was plenty,” Arthur drew out the last word. He shuddered from the memory.

Eliza jumped on the bed and into Charles’ arms. “Uncle Artie and Grammy are gonna take me to London!”

“What?” You sat up and quickly grabbed Charles’ discared shirt that still lay on the floor from last night. Buttoning it up, you demanded, “Arthur, come here.”

Arthur’s face morphed into one of fear. “Mama was the one that suggested it!” he defended, “and Liza promised not to tell.”

“That’s worse,” you pointed out.

“Do you have to work today, Papa?” Liza asked Charles.

“Only a little in the morning,” Charles said, settling her on his lap. “Then I’m all yours in the afternoon.”

“Can we go swimming?” Eliza asked.

“Yes,”

“And horseback riding?”

“Of course,”

“And can we have a tea party with Grammy and Daniel?” Liza gasped, thinking only of her grandma and favourite castle guard. Their connection had begun early on when you found Daniel playing with Eliza one evening. You had apologised profusely, but he simply scooped her up and promised it was no big deal. They had become quick friends.

“Only if there’s donuts,” Charles bargained.

“Only if we can have it in your room under the painting.” She pointed to A Huguenot which had presided over your room ever since you moved in with Charles.

Charles thought for a moment before sticking his hand out. “Deal.” He and his daughter shook hands.

“Liza?” You kissed her forehead and asked her, “why don’t you go play with Uncle Artie for a while until your Daddy and I can join you for breakfast?”

“Okay!” The girl happily jumped off the bed and ran out of the room.

Arthur scampered after and yelled out in warning, “I better not hear any other cries for ‘Daddy!’”

You rolled your eyes while Charles restrained from cursing at his brother for fear of his daughter hearing him. You leaned back into Charles’ chest and he laid his head on yours. After a moment, he whispered, “you’ve been sleeping through the night.”

“I have been.” You nodded. “I think I’ve had the perfect person to help me fall asleep.”

“Or maybe you’re just too tired after each night.” Charles started kissing your neck, slowly starting to suck a hickey.

You let out a soft moan and clutched his hand. “Charlie,” you murmured through gritted teeth. “Liza’s expecting us.”

“She can wait.” Charles laid you down softly on the sheets. “I love you, ma chérie.” He pressed a kiss to your collarbone.

“I love you too, mon bonheur.”

People in the F1 world I wanna be friends with but am too scared to message: @leclsrc @hey-kae @vinvantae @schuvries

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